Through The Window

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Through The Window

By Susan Brown

As a child, Angela had been quite lucky. Being in a relatively well off family, the children had been educated at home and Angela was able to be herself for most of the time. She thanked God for her loving and understanding parents that allowed her to be her real self.

   
Angel

~*~

It was a bright spring morning.

She could see through the window that it was going to be another fine day.

Angela loved looking out of the window and seeing the various seasons come and go.

The window was situated on the ground floor but as the house was on a hill; there were extensive views of the valley below to be enjoyed from it.

In the distance Angela could see the woods where as a child she would go and play with her brothers and sisters. Hide and seek cowboys and Indians and of course, doctors and nurses were played in that wood.

The wood wasn’t so thick now with trees since the terrible storm of 1987. In many places there were gaps that would take many years to fill again.

Beyond the woods Angela could see a glimmer of the sea, sparkling in the morning sunshine.

The pebble beach was another source of endless delight to the young Angela and her family. She smiled inwardly as she remembered when her younger brother Harry, wearing his best Sunday suit, got completely soaked to the skin when a large unexpected wave hit him unawares during one of the many picnics they enjoyed on that lovely beach.

Below the window was the well tended lawns. Many a time Angela had played games on that lawn with her family and friends. One day they were playing cricket and Angela was batting. She normally missed the ball when it was bowled at a fast pace but, for once, she swung and it connected just perfectly. The ball seemed to soar for miles until with a crash it went through the very window at which she was now sitting. Daddy didn’t mind though as he said that even he would have found it hard to hit the ball that far!

The sun was really getting warm now through the window. It gave a promise of the summer to come when, once again children would play in the wood and go down to the beach to search through the many rock pools.

Angela remembered the time when she was about eight or nine when she and her sister Hannah found a fish floundering in a very shallow rock pool. It was silver in colour and must have been nine inches long. It was lying sideways and was gasping as the water was too shallow for it to swim in. They managed to find an old rusty bucket in which to put the fish in and they raced back to rescue it before it died. They sighed with relief when they managed to get the fish in the bucket and release it into the sea.

As a child, Angela had been quite lucky. Being in a relatively well off family, the children had been educated at home and Angela was able to be herself for most of the time. She thanked God for her loving and understanding parents that allowed her to be her real self.

Just in front of the window beyond the old wooden bench were some flower beds and Angela could see that crocuses were in full bloom and many of the daffodils were trying to come out. Tulips would be next and soon the garden would be a riot of colour.

Like the day when Michael proposed to her on full bended knee as she sat on that very bench in front of the window. She said yes of course but it was impossible in that day and age to marry a transvestite.

They had been sweethearts since they had been young children and it was considered only a matter of time before he would pop the question. The only surprise about the proposal was that he had taken so long to make it and they were relatively long in the tooth before he plucked up courage. She had given him enough hints about her wanting to marry him after all! They planned to move abroad to a place where no one knew them, where the laws were not so strict about these things, even though Angela was as feminine as she could be and her enlightened family had treated her as such for many years, England in the early Nineteen Hundreds was not the place to be if you did not conform.

It was getting late in the afternoon now.

The sun was lower in the sky and the shadows of the trees were lengthening on green lawn. The clouds in the sky reflected the red glow of the waning sun and as Angela looked at the strange shapes of the clouds, she saw some birds cross her line of vision. They were swans, honking as they sometimes do in flight and no doubt going on to some far away lake or pond to spend the night.

Of course, the horrid war got in the way of marriage plans as everyone was sucked into the horror of the conflict. Plans were put on hold and priorities changed as Britain fought desperately to keep her freedom.

Somehow, the birds flight reminded Angela of the time, toward the end of the war, when her Michael flew off on a bombing mission at the not so tender age of 34. He was on his final tour of duty. His plane came down somewhere over the channel on the way back from Germany. He and his crew were never found and to this day Angela hoped and prayed that he didn’t suffer and was waiting for her in Heaven. She put her hand to her throat, feeling the locket in which there was a black and white photo of her Darling together with a lock of Michael’s hair. She always wore it as a constant reminder of her love.

It was getting quite dark now and the lights were coming on in the village in the far distance. It was in that village that Angela’s niece Sarah and her husband now lived. Sarah was Angela’s only niece and was always a source of fun and laughter throughout childhood. Sarah was a child who lived life to the full, had a natural sense of humour and was a wicked practical joker. She once put drinking chocolate in the jar used for gravy and ruined Sunday dinner. Of course she was sent to bed without any dinner but she didn’t seem to mind as she hated roast dinners anyway.

Sarah was always a great comfort to Angela when she lost Michael and she was eternally grateful for being lucky enough to be blessed with being so close to such a wonderful and loving child. Sarah had five children of her own all now grown up and Angela was a great aunt to many lovely girls and boys and loved it when they came to visit.

The moon was full, casting an eerie shadow across the lawn. The countless stars were shining and winking in the now cloudless sky. In the distance Angela could the plaintive hoot of an owl as it started its nightly exploration of the shrouded woods.

The light came on the room where Angela sat making her blink at the sudden glare.

‘Come on Angela, time for bed.’

Angela was taken in her wheel chair over to the bed and was helped into it by her two carers Molly and Jane. They were sweet children but Angela wished that they would stop treating her like a child. lt was true that since her stroke she had become a little restricted in what she could do, but even so, it would be nice to be treated with a little dignity in her old age. After all her body may be weak but her mind was as strong as it ever was.

Angela was soon settled down in bed and the light was switched off. Before peaceful sleep engulfed her, Angela reflected that although she had not always been lucky in life, she had received the love of a good man, if only for a short time. She felt doubly lucky in as much as she had a lovely family, all of whom would hopefully be visiting tomorrow, as it was her birthday.

Angela went to sleep looking forward to tomorrow. A tomorrow when she would sit by the window and see once again some happy children playing on the lawn where she had once played and made love.

She had accepted her frailty but gave thanks that her mind was able to take her back to those times when she could run and play with her family in the garden; swim in the sea and scamper over the rocks trying to find tiny crabs and fishes. Times when she could hold the hand and experience such sweet kisses from the man she loved; then, now and always. Those wonderful experiences were as fresh in her mind now as it was then. Yes she was lucky.

Although her life was severely restricted, she hoped with all her heart that the many members of her family would be as contented with life as she was when they too were celebrating their eighty-fifth birthday.


THE END.

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Comments

Sue Brown, A Very Good Story

Will you continue the story after the contest? It would be very nice to see Angela going to Heaven and meeting her husband and with the body that she wanted too. Thank you for this bitter sweet story.
May Your Light Forever Shine

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine

Window to your Soul.

You know I do so love your work, Sue.
Even when it leaves me crying. How
like a dream, all our yesterdays, and
tomorrows still so trying.

Lovely, Powerful, and Germane.

Sarah Lynn

Windows

This was a sweet and moving story Sue. I must admit it was the picture that hooked me into reading. Since I've been so busy, I've had to be picky about the stories I read on my breaks. This wasn't a disappointment at all and yes I had to dab a few tears away. Just Wonderful Sue!
hugs!
grover

Dear Sue

Sentimental and romantic to a fault.

Sweet.

John in Wauwatosa

John in Wauwatosa

Excellent

This story has a really good feel to it, Sue. Well done.

Loved the picture of the Wimpy

Gabi

Gabi.


“It is hard for a woman to define her feelings in language which is chiefly made by men to express theirs.” Thomas Hardy—Far from the Madding Crowd.

a Window into the soul...

Susan,

I like all your works, but this short story really moved me. This was just great! Thanks for all you do, but especially for this one.

Love,
Diane

Love,
Diane

A lovely story

Angharad's picture

good one Sue, one to savour.

Angharad

Angharad

verry loveing

this is a loveing and relly good story
take care sue love n hugs awalys
[email protected]

mr charlles r purcell
verry good story i wood love to see a lot more of this all i can say is wow verry good thanks for shareing

You Get To Me Every Time

joannebarbarella's picture

Lovely, sweet, romantic, sentimental,
Sob,
Joanne

Don't we all wish ...

... that like Angela we had been allowed to grow up who were meant to be, to be loved and love back by that someone special, even if only briefly; and finally to have your loved ones close at the twilight of our lives? If only, if only ...

Beautiful story

I can't add anything better than what has already been said about the story, so I'll just say thank you.

I find this particularly poignant

Angharad's picture

As I'm an Angela and I have too had a stroke but I am not 85 yet or near it.

Angharad