Memory Vase

Vase

Do vases have memories? I certainly hope this one does! It had been in my late husband’s family for generations, and was bequeathed to me by his mother. She and I shared a link that neither one of us really understood, but that we both valued.

The vase came with a letter from my mother-in-law, encouraging me to look deeply into the past, because this is where I would find my future. I ran my hand gently over the bottom of the vase on the inside. There was an envelope there, securely glued. I knew immediately that this was the key to my future.

(c) February 2018 Bonnie Cehovet
Reproduction prohibited without written consent of the author.

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Forever More

IMG_1754

Tarot deck displayed is “The Vampire Tarot”, by Robert M. Place (St. Martin’s Press, 2009).

What does Fate have in store for me? That ever moving wheel, guiding the cycles of change – good/bad, night/day, active/passive. What do I owe to the three Fates – Clotho (who spun the “thread” of human fate), Lachesis (who dispensed the thread), and Atropos (who cut the thread, to determine each individual’s time of death)?

How did I come to be here – sitting with my wisdom, yet feeling such regret, such disappointment. I feel so challanged, there is such chaos around me. What do I need to let go of? How can I forgive?

There is hope – I will move forward!

(c) February 2018 Bonnie Cehovet
Reproduction prohibited without written permission of the author.

Calling My Flight

plane

I hear them calling my flight. I look out the window, and see the plane. I stand up, and get in line for boarding. The whole scenario is so surreal. I received the call in the middle of the night – he was gone. He had died in his sleep. In another country, while on a business trip. Who cares why he was there – business, pleasure … he is gone now. I am numb, going through the motions.  I will be escorting his body back for burial.  And then … returning to what?

The seat belt light goes on. We are about to be airborn.

(c) January 2018 Bonnie Cehovet

Quan Yin – Goddess of Compassion

Quan Yin

The Quan Yin statue has been sitting on my desk for some time now. She represents the state of compassion, of forgiveness, and of loving kindness. I work to embody those traits on a daily basis. Which is very strange, considering the source of that statue. It was given to me by a close friend – a dealer in the art world.  A friend who is now in jail, and who will be there for a very long time. He is a murderer,who showed  no compassion.

We have one with no compassion in his soul, teaching others to show compassion.

(c) January 2018 Bonnie Cehovet

Reproduction prohibited without written permission of the author.

Sherlock Holmes

flash fiction

Some things make us feel safe, they take us into another world. Sherlock Holmes does that for me. Holmes and Watson are very defined characters. Characters that I see them as living people. Flesh and blood people. They existed, in a lovely, if sometimes shadowy, Victorian world. We know their strengths and their weaknesses. We know all about the bolt holes, and the “irregulars”. We know that each perplexing mystery has a solution. Woud it really be so bad to go back to that gasogene world? Is there a portal somewhere that will allow me to become one of them?

(c) January 2018 Bonnie Cehovet
Reproduction prohibited without written permission of the author.

The Other Side Of The Doorway

doorway

I close my eyes, and the doorway is still there. Doorway … gateway … all the same. What matters is that it is there, in front of me. Do I go through, or not? Does it matter what is on the other side? It is my choice, my future. A round doorway … no sharp edges … all I need to do is step through. Green on this side, green on the other side. A very living, breathing green. I will never know what is there … unless I make the choice to walk up those steps. I close my eyes, and feel myself drifting into the future.

(c) January 2018 Bonnie Cehovet
Reproduction prohibited without written permission,

The Christmas Angel

Christmas Angel

I lit the fire in the fireplace, and sat down, drink in hand. This was a tradition for me, every night of the Christmas season. The tree went up on December 1st, and came down on New Year’s Day. I loved decorating it – placing the bits and pieces that I had collected over the years on the branches, writing a new story with them each year.

The little angel at the top – her story stays the same each year. She was a gift from someone that had left my life. She reminds me of good times, and bad.

I honor her, and she honors me.

(c) December 2018 Bonnie Cehovet
Reproduction prohibited without written permission from the author.