Sunday was a lovely day

I wasn’t ready when I lost my Sundays.
I didn’t even know that Sundays could be stolen from you.
It took a while but I’ve adjusted after sampling my sadness and allowing the grief to rest.

When I was a child I heard my mother and her friend Miranda, ‘Aunty Mi’ to me, talking about a lady who was so terribly sad since her heart had been stolen by some wicked man.
Hearing such monstrosity made my heart beat faster coring a sicky wet sump into my child imagination. A place that little girls should never ever fall into.
That night I remember laying frosty still wondering if a heart thief was lurking around outside with the design of my heart, a trophy to steal.
I so wanted to keep my little heart and for it to grow up to be big and strong one day.

My little girl heart did grow up, fighting a few heart wars, even receiving a medal for bravery for ‘Above And Beyond The Call’ …so they insisted.
It got to the stage after hearing the over-kill time again-again of “they just don’t know how I coped" that I swore back at them “When you have no choice, you have no choice”.

It was either walk or crawl and my knees were already bloodied from crawling from a war zone of the tender me fields.
I knew I wouldn’t fly to the top of my mountain but I would find a steady path.

My memory of Sundays as time went on dimmed except for one that would never leave me.
How thankful my grown-up little heart was.
It was the last Sunday we had together.
We pretended you were Columbus and I was the world that you slowly, so slowly navigated from morning till night, mapping the circumference of us. We played like children again with the wonder of being together and talked about what we might do with all our lovely Mondays to Sundays.

We agreed that we should always start our Sundays by serving up words to each other from my chubby dictionary observing if they dripped or drawled, frolicked or coaxed for tummy tickles. We would spoon our thoughts on life and love into word batter for pancakes.
We would never be hungry only thirsty for each other. It was a thirst that we never wanted to quench.

I don’t mind not having Sundays anymore.
How the human spirit adjusts.
We are like merchants who won’t quarrel the price of our wares when we know the cart is not really as well stocked as it may look.
A little bit of a ruse on the cheeks goes a long way to accepting the bids that keep the wheels from not falling off the cart.

So I take my other six days and make them a little more shiny and a little more about sparkly things. I don’t eat pancakes anymore they seem flat and tasteless but I am thirsty six days a week.
Thirsty for every day of my life.

© K S Hardy 2010

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Accepting what seems unacceptable, I wonder if it can be done by a little bit of sampling over time even when you have a day taken away leaving you with a six day week……

Losing time makes up for itself somewhere else.

What the human spirit can and does achieve for me are the oars of inspiration….x

Tags

war, sunday, wheels, imagination, acceptance, cart, thief, thirsty, stolen, choices, thankful, arcadiatempest, arcadia tempest

Feelings and words fall on to the page
Sometimes they bite back
Sometimes they tug on our sleeve
Sometimes they have a cheeky grin
They stay once a page has found them
Words are faithful to us even in the dark

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Comments

  • lianne
    lianneover 4 years ago

    KarenSue – I honestly have no words and that is so rare for me as to be monumental. From beginning to end, every single word of this is perfection, painting, no creating in moving, lasting film, a movie in my head that will haunt me a long time with its poignancy, its truth and its sublime metaphor. A hundred favorites would not do this justice. xox

  • I have tonight read your " recent prose ":http://www.redbubble.com/people/lianne/writing/... and it feels to me there is a connection with Sunday’s being stolen…..just a hunch…a stab in the literary dark…
    I am not sure but have this inkling it is one of your most raw compositions of late ….so it kinda feels like we are writing a cryptic prose together my friend with this piece and yours…
    I feel blessed to be part of the picture with you…xoxo
    Hope all this rambling makes sense to you….x

    – Arcadia Tempest

  • Zolton
    Zoltonover 4 years ago

    This is the sort of writing I feel I cannot do. Thick batter for the brain to devour after it’s been cooked to fluffy perfection. It pours like melted butter and you make it look so easy despite the fact that I know it isn’t.

  • Hi ya …I often write when I am very tired and somehow when my brain is in an altered kind of state due to being tired I find writing far easier than when I am primed and ready for action…..funny that?
    And so many writes for me start with a line….and this one was the word batter and the pancake one.
    Thank you for your really wonderful comment which I take also as a really lovely compliment as well…
    There are so many styles here on the bubble that I can’t do either!
    Good thing we stick to what suits us best me thinks….xx

    – Arcadia Tempest

  • JaneSolomon1
    JaneSolomon1over 4 years ago

    Very special as are you. xx

  • xoxoxo ….thank you :)

    – Arcadia Tempest

  • linaji
    linajiover 4 years ago

    I am with Lianne… Good God Karen Sue.. you moved me greatly today… Loving you. xox

  • Hi…it has been a really really good six day week me thinks…..xxx Sunday could be the undercurrent that floats all of others days me thinks… :O))

    – Arcadia Tempest

  • Rhenastarr
    Rhenastarrover 4 years ago

    I am always so moved by your soulful writing. Your pen just flows with such beauty of spirit and mind. The words just slip so easily into the mind, lulling in their soft mesmerizing cadence.
    Another brillinat piece of writing from one of my very favorite writers. A definite favorite.

  • Hi ya Marie
    Come closer….hmmm little bit more…..Here …XOXOXOXO :O))

    – Arcadia Tempest

  • rubyjo
    rubyjoover 4 years ago

    wow karensue, this is so moving, both melancholy and soulful, your writing takes me places no one else’s does.

  • Hi ya….
    Hope you have lots more sparkly days …..thank you for diving with your own feelings into this prose…it makes such a huge difference when we share our words/thoughts together on a level where we throw out the ego and just let our emotions be what they need to be…xxx

    – Arcadia Tempest

  • mohawk man
    mohawk manover 4 years ago

    i agree with all of them, so what more can i say besides, fantastic!!!!!!!!!!!!

  • Hi there
    Thank you for your kind words and for stopping by to share one of my six days… :O))

    – Arcadia Tempest

  • linaji
    linajiover 4 years ago

    !
    March 2010

  • And on the sixth day….there was Feminine Intent ;o)
    Thank you….the sparkly things just got a whole lot more sparkly xxx

    – Arcadia Tempest

  • MissingYou
    MissingYouover 4 years ago

    This is so divine…I needed to read this today….love it:)

  • Ahhh….yes understand where you are at..x
    Sparkle time …remember to give some sparkles all to yourself cos you should…xoxo

    – Arcadia Tempest

  • Fuego1
    Fuego1over 4 years ago

    I’m sitting here looking at the screen and not knowing what to say. This is so touching on many levels. I agree about the pancakes. Thank you for sharing bits and pieces of your heart with us. You’re so loved.

  • A little bit of this and a little bit of that….and still plenty left over… ;O))
    I actually love pancakes with lots of whipped butter and real maple syrup….xx

    – Arcadia Tempest

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