The chill

ImagePain flooded her body. It was a mix of the physical and the mental. Her mind was having a hard time telling the two apart. Winters chill had seeped deep into her and refused to let go. It mattered not how many logs she put on the fire, or how much baking filled her warm and inviting kitchen, she was cold. Looking around she saw and smelled the fruits of her labor. Break and cookies and cake filled the counter tops. She was sure it would all meet with appreciation. She was known for her culinary deftness. Thinking of their smiling faces lit a small spark in her heart.

Before leaving the kitchen she grabbed a cup of hot tea and took a smooth sip. The liquid warmth radiated into her body. It brought back fond memories of her youth and of sweeter moments with her mom. Not every day was good, but there were a few that were great. And those too warmed the cold recesses of her heart, Just a bit.

She snuggled onto the hearth close to the fire and watched the sparks. She could almost smell the aromas of pecan, and pine wood burning. Remembering nights in her youth when she would slide from her farm house bed and sit in front of the fire place. Listening to her family sleep so peacefully as she played sentinel and stood watch over them. And some where inside she felt something turn loose and heat being to fill her insides.

Finally she retreated to the confines of her master bath. There she filled the tub with scalding water and sunk in chin deep. Closing her eyes she could remember her mom washing her hair as a child. Of her fussing when the temperature in the bathroom felt like a sauna. And how she would climb up on the toilet seat to put her face in the cool air coming in that one small window. Of how her mom would say that “one must suffer to be beautiful” and how she longed to be beautiful, but how she so did not want to suffer. And there in the rose scented water she smiled.

Bathed and brushed. Dried and dressed. She grabbed another cup of hot tea. And in those memories she found her warmth. There was no lingering pain. Physical, mental, it had released itself into the swirling tub water as it had exited the drain. And there she remembered her mom saying, “if you don’t mind, it doesn’t matter” and it truly did not matter because for now her mind was settled and silent.



1 Comment

  1. February 6, 2014 at 5:09 pm


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