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[openscarf]

The whole family except poor poor pitiful  me was in Florida at my mom & dad's. Even though being with them all at once stresses me out and turns me into a 14 year-old brat, I felt a few pangs of being left out and forgotten. I'll always be a brat as far as the fam' goes but at least now as a 50 year-old brat I can laugh at myself at thesame time as feeling sorry for myself.

About 10 years ago my mom told me she often had a dream where we were on a rocky beach and she had lost me. It was just us and I was a little kid. She said she was agitated and scared in the dream because she couldn't find me. She was calling and looking for me. She hated the dream naturally, it was very upsetting.

We talked about it several times and I tried to help her analyze it by asking what was on her mind at that point in her life, what did I represent to her, what did the beach mean to her, etc., but we didn't really get anywhere with it. I think about it sometimes.  I wonder if when she started having it, I was at a point in my life where I was really drifting away, I never really followed a "normal" path. Or maybe she was the one drifting away. We were maybe lost to each other. Who knows?

A colleague I temped with told me when her daughter was very young, one year for her birthday, all she wanted was a flying magic carpet. My friend bought her a little kitchen rug and she said she'd walk by her daughter's room and the child would be sitting on the rug clutching the sides with her eyes closed. That is one special kid, I thought. As did my colleague!

So, I wrote this short story for my mom for Mother's Day. I enjoyed writing it for many reasons, the subject, practice and imagining.  I haven't heard from her yet. She was busy feeding and celebrating with her kids and grandkids as she should have been when I called today. I asked her to open her email today--I didn't finish it in time to mail it with her cards--she checks her email about twice a month if that. I wonder what she will think of it.
 

Abby’s Magic Carpet

Vera walked along the cold rocky shore, her eyes as sharp as the eyes of a thousand owls, looking for her little girl. Just a moment ago they were enjoying the sunny beach at low tide.  Abby carried her little beach bag and jumped over rocks, and stuck her fingers in watery holes, causing Vera to stop or have her arm yanked off.

Abby had let go of Vera’s hand to pick up a shell or take something out of her bag, while Vera had been gazing at the far off horizon, lost for a moment in the seamless connection of sky, sea and sand. It was the same ocean she knew in America, but now seen from the English coast. She never thought in a million years she would live in England. She felt a little like an adventurer. She wondered how her mother had felt crossing another ocean. They had both done it, for different reasons but ultimately to have better lives for themselves and their families. Vera had been overwhelmed when her husband told her about the opportunity to move, but she had done it. And now she had lost Abby. But how?

“Abby, Abby, where are you? Abby, Abby!” shouted Vera anxiously.

She felt as if her right arm was missing, her hand hung uselessly without Abby’s hand in it. Her fear made her brave; she couldn’t bear for Abby to be frightened and looking frantically for her.

She called again and again, turning in a slow circle and looked at every rock and patch of sand, near and far. There was no one else on the beach except for a lone figure with a dog, far off.  The sound of barking carried on the salty wind along with gull cries and the breaking waves.

As she gazed carefully and concentrated on everything that moved or stood out, she heard another sound rising above the beach din.

“Mommy, up here, here I come Mommy, look at me!”

Vera looked up and saw her daughter, astonishingly, sitting cross-legged on the little bathroom rug Vera had bought for her when Abby said all she wanted for her birthday was a magic carpet. She clutched the sides and soared straight towards Vera, her face full of infectious joy. Confused gulls squawked and darted out of her way.

“I must be dreaming, “thought Vera as she watched her daughter circle her teasingly, then lift higher until she was gliding on a current of air over the sea, hundreds of yards away.

“Abby!” She screamed with all her motherly authority and might. “Get. Back Here. Now! Right Now!”

Pausing for breath, arms tight at her side, Vera watched her child flying above the earth and suddenly she saw fleeting glimpses, like flashes of light, of the way life could be if it was lived based on magical thinking, love, joy and faith. It could be lived as simply as child’s play.

The child in Vera watched Abby, heard her laughter and was filled with such love and joy, she thought she may burst. It wasn’t the first time she had felt this for one of her children, but it was the first time she had seen one of them soaring through the sky.

Abby turned around and came flying back towards her, her cap of brown hair streaming behind her. Vera ducked slightly although Abby came to a smooth landing directly in front of Vera’s feet.

“Mommy, get on! Let’s go somewhere! Anywhere you want Mommy!”

Still not sure if she was dreaming, Vera decided to play along; she had come to the beach to play with Abby, so she was going to play with Abby!

She ran her hands over the top of Abby’s head and down her sturdy little arms, over her jeans and rested them on her sneakers; and looked at Abby, smiling.

“Let’s go to Paris and get a croissant and then to the pyramids in Egypt,” said Vera her green eyes twinkling.

“Ok, get behind me Mommy,” directed Abby.

Indulgently, Vera sat on the rug which seemed oddly bigger than she remembered. For a magic carpet, it wasn’t too exotic, but Vera had searched for one that seemed magical and found a little furry bathroom mat with a pattern of the earth, stars, planets, the sun and the moon. 

“Hold on to me,” ordered Abby importantly.

Right, as if I’m not clutching you to my body like you were my own skin, thought Vera, as she obligingly gathered Abby to her.

“Not too tight, Mommy,” said Abby.

Vera peered around the back of Abby’s head and saw her daughter’s eyes closed tightly and then shockingly the carpet lifted and rose diagonally until they were high in the sky.

This is a lovely dream, thought Vera and decided to enjoy it.

“Where have you been flying to Abby?” she asked.

“Well, I went to a jungle because I wanted to see monkeys, that was really fun, they jumped on the carpet with me and then I wanted to see a lot of flowers in a meadow, the kind you tell me to think about after I’ve had a bad dream, and I think I was in Holland, there were tulips everywhere and then I also went to that mountain, like in ‘The Sound of Music’ and I visited penguins, they’re so cute and…”

As Abby cheerfully prattled, Vera relaxed recognizing the places and characters from Abby’s favorite books and movies.

Years later, long after they had moved back to the States and long after her children were grown, Vera often dreamed she was on a rocky beach searching for Abby and couldn’t find her. Abby was lost or she was lost. It always disturbed Vera, she never had those types of dreams about her other children.

She forgot what had really happened all those years ago, or she had forgotten the rest of the dream. The dream she did have made her anxious and worried, even though Abby was now an adult.

Now, many years later Vera was clearing out her kids’ closets for the umpteenth time and saw in the dark far corner of Abby’s closet the little beach bag she used to carry. How had she missed that before?

She opened the bag and pulled out a much worn out bath mat, Abby’s flying carpet.

That day at the beach or that dream of that day at the beach came back to her vividly. She reached again into the bag and there was one of Abby’s diaries, the kind with a little lock that came with a key. The lock easily pulled apart, but she didn’t read anything yet.

Vera sat on the bed, the rug and book in her lap and closed her eyes. She saw Abby and herself flying on her little carpet. They had reached the Egyptian pyramids first; they flew over them so high they could see an oasis settlement in the distance. They had walked together with people from all over the world speaking many different languages. Vera heard her parents’ language being spoken by an older couple and she introduced herself and Abby and then had a pleasant conversation with the couple about the old country; they now lived in Turkey.

After they were finished with Egypt, they had settled back onto the magic bathmat and were soon sitting in a Parisian café, people watching and eating croissants and drinking café au lait. Vera told Abby that in France all children drink creamy coffee and that her mother let her drink it too.

“Isn’t this fun mommy?” asked Abby.

“It sure is!” said Vera.

Now Vera opened the diary and read her daughter’s big lettered entries. She wrote of her travels with Vera, not only the dream Vera remembered but other travels too.  Abby wrote of trips she had taken her sisters and brother on, and even her father; but she mostly flew her carpet by herself or with Vera. Each tale of a mother and daughter trip began with Vera calling,

“Abby, Abby, where are you?”

And Abby would answer,

“Mommy, up here, here I come Mommy, look at me!”

The diary ended about two-thirds through.  Vera guessed Abby had outgrown the carpet and moved through another phase of childhood.

 She closed the diary with a smile on her face; neither one of them had been lost, only leaving for a little fun and adventure. Vera laughed as she pictured her daughter and herself flying on Abby’s magic carpet.

My fire escape garden is growing. Last Sunday, Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday mornings, I carried about 8 pots of fledgling plants from the table that gets west sun - formerly known as the dining room table- out to the fire escape to get used to being outside in the eastern sun and afternoon shade. Thursday night, they spent their first whole night outside. I didn't know how they would react to foggy, cool and damp nights, but they've become sturdier and now that's where they live. Today was windy and I checked them many times, I have to learn how to grow things in this climate.  When the seedlings are bigger, I'll transplant them and hang them from the railings, since it is a fire escape and technically the path should be clear.  I'm still coaxing ginger to sprout from roots, inside.

I've only had houseplants here, I feel successful with these tiny plants! I joined an LJ community called apartmentgarden when they were spot lighted a couple weeks ago. The urban gardening movement is really growing, hehehehe!

Take a gander-


4 pots of Asian hot pepper plants from seed & in the red former kitty litter pan, forget-me-nots have peeked through.
    
                  


        
  2 garlic plants, one avocado and another pot of hot pepper plants

                    



Rearranged the pots for the photo, I bought the basil and divided it into 3 plants, 1 is inside

                


View from the fire escape, zoomed in just a little

              

Comments

[yummydeb.livejournal.com]

A lovely and enchanting story!

And a wonderful apartment garden :-)

Thanks for sharing both!

[openscarf.livejournal.com]

Thank you!! I've been PINING for a little feedback on my little tale, I appreciate you reading it!

And for noticing my little garden. :-) Your icon reminds me of the first creature I saw out there, it was a little bumblebee on the basil. I was so happy.

[mollys-home.livejournal.com]

Lovely pics.
I don't know the whole story of you and your family.
Family can suck at times.
For over ten years I have been estranged from my sister, my brother, all my aunts, all but one of my uncles, all cousins but two and my older son.
At first it was devastating. But I have learned to detach and not care. Not an easy thing to do. And in more cases than not, it is not the path most would choose. Refer me to some posts of yours that tell me more about you and your family if you have time. I have not spent alot of time in lj what with full time college classes, an internship, health issues and depression. But now that school is over till next semester, I have to get re-acquainted with all that is going on in livejournal-land.

[openscarf.livejournal.com]

Well, welcome back, it will be nice have you around more. I hope you're feeling better.

The reason I wasn't there for Mother's Day, is purely me. I'm only working temporary jobs so I don't get paid for vacation days and I can't afford a ticket. I am planning to go for Thanksgiving.

I too have come to grips with my family. Most of my posts with tags of 'assault' or 'sister' should cover a lot of general stuff. That's all over now, but in general I wouldn't say we're a warm and fuzzy family.

I had wanted my tale to be part of their mother's day, but I have a feeling my mom never got to her email or is just waiting to talk to me next week. She's 80, she had a busy weekend, she can do whatever she wants in my book. But still, it's funny how when you put yourself out there with your art, and no one says anything, you have to really take a look at it remember, well I liked it.

I agree it's not easy to detach, but it is healthy and we can never really know what the other people are going through, and maybe it's best that way.