Mom’s Soap Box

Another load of soiled clothes to clean was waiting for me in the laundry room last night. The laundry full of an assortment of young men’s sweaty, damp mismatched clothes laid scattered on the tattered, taupe carpet. The carpet stained from the many times water would leak from the pipes leading to the back yard water line, after being broken on more than one occasion from the past sub-zero winters.

I somehow managed to find a path through the mounds of clothes. I stumbled on a torn, old box that was flipped over on one side. Right away I noticed the deflated red valentine balloon with the ribbon still attached. To my surprise an image of my past hit me. I picked up a worn, stationary envelope and took the fragile letter it contained out and blew the dust from it; memorabilia of my past in an old cardboard box. I brushed a strand of the hair that had found its way from my pony tail from my eyes and sat down in the middle of the dirty clothes.

I got a rush of different emotions as I read the fade letters sent to me from a long, lost love; the paper no longer the crisp white that it was 23 years ago, but now an ivory, wrinkled bit of time, so long ago.

The envelope was address to Genieveve and was from Marcus a brave knight from a kingdom in some far away distant land. A land where dragons lived and damsels were rescued from wicked wizards and cruel warriors. It was a time where honor and love meant more than life itself.

The letter was one of many that the young couple shared. Their love was like no other and each moment they spent together was cherished and every moment apart was unbearable torture.

I folded the letter and placed it back in the envelope that it came from. My eye stung from a tear or was it from the Clorox from the washer.

I was that fair maiden and Marcus was my love, my children’s father. We were so young then. I wonder if the young lovers had any clue of how they would someday hurt each other so. I wonder if they would have written the chapters of their story different and defiantly in hopes that fate did not rule their destiny.

We would write these letters back and worth, it was our fairy tale. I wonder what would happen if Genieveve would send Marcus a letter now. Would he remember her?

What would happen, these scattered cards and a cardboard box of forgotten dreams, and promises? Ribbons and love poems that I had forgotten I had written as a young woman.

A glimpse back in time that had so much promise, it was a whimsical moment that I decided to share with my boys that evening . They listened to me read the letters their father wrote to me those 23 years ago.