In a box at a French flea market,
Dusty and forgotten.
Memories slept close to one another-
Silently dreaming in another place and time.
Once cherished.
Placed carefully.
Peeked at when the heart ached, or feelings surged.
Those secrets, those cherished bits of papers, the letters from someone she held close.
Years ago, when I was around nineteen years old, I took care of an elderly woman who was housebound.
A beautiful woman who had a house stuffed with beautiful old things. Nevertheless, her curtains were closed and her stacks of fine dishes stored in the basement.
The summer I took care of her, her housekeeper/guardian went away for a three month holiday. As soon as I walked in Rose told me, "I have my meals served on a TV tray right here in front of the TV. Here is my checkbook and car keys you can buy whatever you want to make me for my meals and charge it to my account."
I looked around at her lovely old home and thought out loud, "Why?"
She said, "Why, What?"
"Why take your meals in front of the TV?" I asked, "Your home is beautiful!"
She shrugged, "It is easier."
I frowned, "For you or for me?"
She sadly replied, "For you since I do not move very well."
As I was nineteen and full of vinegar and honey I said, "We will have lunch on the terrace today. So you can use that walker… come on, I'll help you get up, let's give it a try."
Rose grump-ed, "Oh no! It is okay right here in front of the TV. I don't want to bother you."
"If you want lunch you will have to meet me on the terrace." With that I turned and walked towards the kitchen to prepare the meal.
The kitchen! Had floor to ceiling cupboards, a breakfast nook, and a basement FULL OF LOVELY THINGS!!! I ran out to the living room and nearly hyperventilated with excitement saying to Rose, "Oh my God, we will have breakfast tomorrow in the breakfast nook, lunch everyday outside or on the porch, and dinner in the dining room! Can I use any of the dishes you have? And the linens can I use them? And the teacups!!!! Can we have tea too? And, and, and why do you have the curtains closed?"
I am afraid Rose didn't know what to do with a girl like me.
She laughed and said, "Use whatever you like. The curtains are closed because the windows are dirty, and I don't want to move to eat my lunch."
"I'll wash the windows," I threw the curtains opened, "And we are NOT eating in front of the TV even if I have to drag you to the dining room to prevent it, or throw the TV out."
Rose's eyes opened wide. Then she laughed out loud.
I drove her car.
Went to the grocery store everyday.
Bought delicious treats, and made meals for Queen Rose.
We became fast friends.
She wrote poetry.
Her cupboards were a treasure chest.
Tea was served in sweet teacups.
Meals on different china plates each day.
I stuffed the sugar bowls with sugar cubes, and the cookie jars with my mother's cookies, and her silver trays with cakes.
Rose sparkled, so did the windows… and her garden provided flowers galore for every inch of her home.
I loved every day with Rose. Her home was a wonderland.
Rose was a storyteller. She had lived a beautiful life and was left crippled by an infected mosquito that left her tongue hanging out and made it difficult for her to talk… though once she got to know you she never let your ear grow cold.
One day she told me she had secret love letters from a boyfriend who had died.
"I never could throw them away." She said, then continued, "If you go to bedroom, in the closet, there is a trunk, in the trunk there is a box… can you bring it to me?"
In the box there was a letter.
Love poured out as she held it in her hands, "I haven't held it in years…" she cried.
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