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Novelo Rectangle

It was just a dream. The beautiful, old, two story home on the edge of town. The neatly manicured, idyllic, expansive front yard with the solitary oak perfectly situated between the wide front porch and the tidy driveway off to the left. The oak standing tall and proud with it's high branches keeping the covered porch comfortably cool to the delight of those occupying its wooden swing hanging from the ceiling or two matching chairs conversationally situated nearby, but not so conceited as to completely block out the light or warmth from the early afternoon midsummer sun. From the swing or the chairs looking across the front yard, though some have argued quite effectively that it should be called a small field, the gray swish of the immaculately paved tarmac is just visible above the green grass and below the bottom of the brown split rail fence. The fence itself split in perfect accord with the level front lawn rather 30/2/68 when viewed as a whole containing the long and straight two car gravel driveway. The driveway itself guides it's travelers first to the 4 car pad (out of sight alongside the home) before leading the owners into the oversized attached 2 1/2 car garage. How humorous, when fully considered, that garages would be sized for a half car after being oversized to begin with, but alas that's a debate for a different day.The home is what many real estate agents would call "traditional" should it ever go onto the market, because it doesn't fit neatly into any other category. A true two story, it is not a Victorian despite its age, nor a Colonial or even a Four Square Early American Craftsman. It has angles and dormers, the black asphalt shingle roof has multiple and varying grades to accommodate the hither and fro of the rooms contained protectively under it's eaves. Updated light gray, practically white if truth be told, vinyl siding with real wooden shutters adoring every door and window stained a complimentary dark mahogany hue.Our attention is drawn to the once more mahogany trimmed front porch, and the couple sitting in the light colored swing with their back to the mighty oak and tour guide driveway. They look to be early to mid 70's, perhaps, but definitely not old in any way, as both are the epitome of health and both share the same small smile upon their lightly wrinkled faces. Their hair, almost symmetrically, belying the youthful and vitality saturated visages that would easily be mistaken as much younger otherwise, if one were to put any noticeable observation at all into the study would be quite frankly only one or two shades darker than the siding they chose for their home. Holding hands gently, comfortably, familiarly, each has a small table adjacent their end of the mobile love seat. Each table is complete with sweating clear glasses of ice tea sprigged with a lemon wedge upon the rim. The drinks a mere accoutrement to the afternoon, the couple's attention is equally upon the four young fair-haired children, ranging from about 3 to 6 years of age, playing not far off the front steps in the grass."Olly olly ock-skins fee!""No, silly, you said it wrong! It's 'olly olly oxen free!'"Suddenly, a fifth child, a boy a little older than the rest, pops his sunkissed head into view from around the opposite end of the porch where he'd been crouched down. He now holds a large toad in his hand as a reward for his curiosities, squinting smile as he comes into the sunlight from the brief shadows he previously dared endeavor on his amphibian hunting quest.Looking towards his grandparents, he opens his mouth to say something......but what is that annoying rhythmic beep coming out of his mouth instead? The sunlight slowly fades, the picturesque scene slowly shrinks, under the intense scrutiny of that hated beep. The slow withdrawal was not slow enough, as I open my eyes to the beeping of my IV machine in the cold, sterile, hospital room once more. No longer the grandfather I long to be with the love of my life and grandkids enjoying the storybook home of my dreams. I'm once again a single, childless, soon to be apartmentless, 34 year old withering away all alone in a loveless cancer ward. The treatments have rendered my chestnut hair nonexistent right along with my ability to reproduce (even if I am one of the "fortunate" few who survive.) Sometimes I wonder, with the bills stripping me bare financially, and the chemicals and surgeries robbing my body of every familiar landmark in the mirror, is it really WORTH it in the end? What exactly am I supposed to be fighting FOR again? I'd much rather find my way back to my soul mate this cancer burgled me from meeting. Back to those golden years I'm almost certain to never see in this life as I can feel my mortal coil fraying with each passing day. I long for that beautiful home I'll never get to own, and watching those absolutely perfect grandkids play and play and play. The soul needs what the soul needs after all. It can't be totally selfish, can it, to anchor myself more and more into the bliss, and less and less into this world that clearly doesn't need me? Does the world even remember I exist? The infrequent visitors, mostly former coworkers with a cousin or two sprinkled in, tell me no. Alas, yes, it was just a dream...but yet so much more. For you see, sometimes, dreams are truly your heaven before eternity arrives.&nbsp;

Soulscapes

ColdFire78

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Soulscapes

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