The rectangular box with the snowman wrapping paper became more shelf-worn as it wandered through the house.   One year it rested on the silver tray with the beanbag frog; the next year it perched on the bookshelf next to Tale of Two Cities.  When her daughter started school it hid between the African violets; when she started high school it crept to the mantle with the ominous black clock.   

She’d been great with child the Christmas her mother died and would not risk cross-country travel – especially when their last words had been bitter.   

bare corners
tape long gone –
the ungifted gift
held together
by regret

Carpe Diem Special #160
Bedside Vigilance

23 thoughts on “bare corners

  1. What a sad memory … sometimes those childhood wounds never heal … I can’t imagine a phantom gift moving around the house at Christmas though … it makes the whole thing even sadder somehow …


  2. Ouf, so sad…now that she’s a mom, hopefully she knows that mother’s love unconditionally…the fights, bitterness are just saying, Mamma, I’m hurting…she knows now and she is still with you.


    • It was terribly sad …. watching that box move throughout the house … learning what it stood for. This is the story of my mother and grandmother … and a wound that never quite healed.

      Thanks Cheryl-Lynn


      • My mother had nighmares for a year after my grandmother passed…poor Mom was too scared to stand up to her…she felt guilty for dreaming that she was telling her off. I remember telling her that it was part of tying up loose ends and that GrandMaman surely wanted her to finally stand up for herself. I am sure she came into her dreams on purpose to help her shed that anger.GrandMaman was wise even from the hereafter.


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