By Rebecca Braun.
I wanted more than anything for her to remember. Her life was becoming a shadow of past memories. Her words were becoming memorized phrases that had nothing to do with the present, but only of broken dreams and lies of broken promises to herself.
I walked into the nursing home room and found her asleep in her wheelchair. Pulling the small bag of seashells from my pocket, I set them on her over-bed table and rolled it in front of her.
“Hi, Mom,” I smiled.
She opened her beautiful blue and lifted her head to look at me.
I spread the shells out on the small table, and she began to touch each one of them. Some of them were chipped and the colors faded, but others were brilliant, looking as vivid as they had forty-five years ago.
“California…” she said.
“That was a beautiful day.”
REBECCA BRAUN grew up in the Midwest, United States, and now resides in St. Paul, Minnesota, with her loyal border collie, May. They enjoy long walks and snowshoeing in the winter. She believes her writing inspiration comes through walking a spiritual path and being open to the universe. Her first career was in education, teaching music for over twenty years in the public school system. Now, she is pursuing a new career and passion, writing.