Shattered Memories
Shattered and broken, she forced herself to get through it. The day she dreaded has arrived. It wasn't going to be easy, but how long did she have before she lost it completely?
Lizzy sat staring at her big, round, bloodshot eyes through the reflection in her vanity mirror. Picture perfect as always, just as he liked it. Her dark brown unruly curls, now smooth and pinned into a nice tight bun, exposed the large pearl earrings dotting her ears. A perfect match to the necklace around her neck, a direct contrast to the sleek black dress that covered her tiny frame.
On the inside, she felt broken, her heart as shattered as her world. However, on the outside, she wore the perfect lady-like grace of the late President Kenny’s wife, Jackie-A.
The smell of her perfume, flowery to the senses and light across the skin, carried the impact of an oncoming freight train. A sudden attack of nostalgia. Images of a couple playfully cuddling in a blanket, on the sandy beaches of The Caribbean. They were so young, so happy, and so full of hope.
This was too much.
Violently she flung her cosmetics to the floor with a sweep of her hand, the memory of their honeymoon, a dagger through the heart. Black streaks trailed down her cheeks, smearing her made-up face. A trail of red smudged along her lip line. Her clenched fist struck the shattered mess of a woman in the mirror, screaming and pitching a fit.
I can’t do this. How am I supposed to sum up thirty years in two paragraphs? Birthdays, anniversaries, vacations, romantic, passion-filled nights, and watching our children grow up.
He had always told her he wanted an upbeat funeral. Not one where people left feeling miserable, but one where they laughed and remembered the good times, reminiscing over fond memories. She yelled her question to a man who could no longer hear her.
“How am I supposed to be upbeat and laugh...” she lowered her voice.” ...when my world is ending and my soul is broken?”
Her head dropped into her hands. “How can I go on without you?”
She had cried for three days after his death and was now trudging through shock, heading toward anger and fury. Waves of emotional heat flashed just under the surface. It wasn’t until the harsh smell of smoldering fabric burned her nose that she realized, in her fit, she had dropped the cherry of her cigarette on her leg.
Crap!
Slapping the inside of her thigh, she put out the dot-sized inferno scorching a hole in her hose. She smashed the cigarette into the ashtray. She didn’t like smoking, but it helped to calm her nerves. At least, it used to. Today, nothing seemed to calm her agitation.
She sighed in frustration as she marched across the tan and teal room to her wooden dresser. The one he had made, fashioned after one she spied in a magazine, as a surprise for their wedding anniversary. He had spent three months and four hundred dollars to build it by hand, just for her.
She cherished it until now.
Right now, she wanted to burn it to the ground because looking at it was like jabbing a knife through her chest, severing her lungs, scorching her heart.
"I can do this.", she whispered.
New tears fell as she calmed herself. She knew she loved this dresser, and burning it down would have hurt more than looking at it today.
Her red-painted nails looked like spots of blood as she ran her hand across the top, remembering the feel of his hands. They were callous from building this project but pure silk upon her skin when she thanked him. She pulled open the drawer, his drawer, and couldn’t help but laugh.
Hands full of nylon and silk, she unfolded the bundle of material and remembered the night he burst through the bedroom door, striking a hero’s pose, dressed in this superhero costume to spice up their love life. He looked so handsome and so cute. Yet, held the right amount of silliness that after the jokes were through, they had been able to talk through their stressful issues.
You did make a hot superhero.
The moment brought laughter and smiles laced with anguish and pain. Wet drops of sadness splattered the red cape. She sniffled the memory away along with the suit. Taking a deep breath, she focused on getting through the next few minutes, and the few minutes after that.
One step at a time...
Shimmying out of her nylons, she pulled them free and tossed them on the bed.
I hope I have more.
She rifled through her panty drawer, searching for her extra pair. Socks, panties, and lingerie flew from the dresser in frantic bursts.
Where are they? I know I have some.
Frustration expanded like a rubber band through her, weighing her down, and threatening to snap. Anger bubbled to the surface and she yanked the drawer from its place. Shaking it forcefully upside down, she spilled the contents on her bed. The wooden drawer came to rest on the floor. Back at her dresser she wrenched open the other drawers rummaging through them.
Dang, nothing! Why can’t anything go right today?
She crumpled into a heap upon the floor, her hands knotted in her hair, screaming in exasperation. The door to her bedroom swung open adding light to her darkened prison of agony. Someone dropped beside her, murmuring kind words.
Lizzy let go of her hair and lifted her gaze to the sorrowful face of her dearest friend, Amelia. Her updo a mess and undone, dropped frizzy strands of hair upon her face and neck. Amelia’s soft hands pushed the tendrils behind her ear.
“Elizabeth it’s going to be all right. I am here. What do you need me to do?”
“Pantyhose!” Her body temperature rose. “I can’t find any pantyhose and I’m wearing a skirt. I need them. What am I going to do? I can’t go without them. What would people think? Ladies wear hose!”
Amelia, the voice of peace in her turmoil, shoved ice water at her.
“Drink this and try and calm down. It will help.”
Antarctica in a glass, she welcomed the sudden burst of chills along her skin, giving her a moment’s reprieve from the wasteland of desert in her mouth. Flecks of ice slid down her throat and brought with it a bout of fresh coolness that helped to clear her head. The frozen cube sizzled upon her skin as she ran it along her neck and jawline.
She slid her glance toward her quiet comrade. “I need another shower. What a day for an extreme case of hot flashes. Please make them go away.”
“That’s what the ice water is for. Drink up.” Amelia said laughing a bit, “You still have time for a quick rinse in the shower and I’ll redo your hair and help you get ready.”
Lizzy took the offered hand of her friend and crawled from the floor. “Thank you, Amelia. I don’t know what I would do without you.”
