The Easter Egg

Emily sighed as she gazed at the jeweled Easter Egg that took pride of place on her sideboard every Easter. George had given it to her for their first Easter, oh so many years ago. It was symbolic of the life they had carefully planned and lovingly lived. George had transitioned three years ago from a quite unexpected heart attack. Holidays were still difficult to face without him. Crafted in the old country, it represented where they came from and who they were. Gentle memories that sustained her always.

(c) April 2022 Bonnie Cehovet

Reproduction is prohibited without the written permission of the author.

The Falcon

The Falcon – good memories here! Some of the best TV  ever – now relegated to late nights, if you can find it at all. A little light for a mystery – but it was all about mystery and intigue. The Falcon was a freelance adventurer – he could appear at any place, at any time.  And when he appeared, one knew that things were going to happen! Very suave, impeccible manners, and a magnet for beautiful women. That was the Falcon. I could say I wish he would appear, fullblown, in my life. But I rather think there would be trust issues!

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

Memory 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.

‘Tis The Season

‘Tis the season – time for all of us to bring out our memories, along with the hot chocolate. Who will be with us this year, and who will not? How times have changed, as they should. Instead of focusing on toys for the kids, and holiday dinners, we are working in any way that we can to stop our President-elect from taking office.

I have made my decision – I am going to spend an evening with my Christmas decorations. I am going to chat with them, and live in that world. I am the creator of my own season.

(c) December 2016 Bonnie Cehovet
Reproduction prohibited without written permission of the author.

The Recliner

Such a mundane item – a recliner. But it was very important to replace her recliner. I could not stand looking at it one more minute! He did not want to let it go – good memories, he said! Well, now he is gone, and so is the recliner. Now the room is mine! It can be anything that I want it to be – he has no more say over anything! I can replace and rearrange at will. So many years – and now my life unfolds! The cover over the mirror remains. I will deal with that later.

(c) August 2016 Bonnie Cehovet

Memories

Elena opened the drawer, and took out the black velvet box. She slowly opened the box – her box of memories. The pearls were luminous, caressing each other as they intertwined. No beginning, no ending. Tears came to her eyes as she remembered the night that Xavier had given them to her. It was their twentieth anniversary, and they were celebrating at their favorite restaurant. Candlelight, wine, and the magnificent pearls.

Over the years there had been many occasions to wear them – they had become a symbol of the bond between her and Xavier. A bond that now surpassed death.

(c) April 2015 Bonnie Cehovet

Reproduction prohibited without written permission of the author.

Old Pictures

Old pictures … I should never sit down and look through old pictures. The memories are all there … good ones, bad ones, indifferent ones … they are all there. Some people don’t think that I notice, but I do. They may think that I like the bright colors, but behind every color is a story.

Take this lovely bush, for example. Beautiful coloring, with a very gentle, peaceful energy to it.  But I know better … I know that it  sits in front of the pond … THAT pond … the one where I saw them bury Jeremy.

“She looks like she is getting agitated again. Who gave her those pictures?”

“Amy, give Joesph the pictures. I have some nice, sweet tea here ready for you.”

© 2000 – 2013 Bonnie Cehovet

All material on this site is copyright by Bonnie Cehovet, and may not be reproduced in any format without written permission.

Where Do We Go From Here?

Annie stood there, looking out the airport window. Karl’s flight had just taxied in – he would be deplaning soon. This time, he would not be leaving. At least, not for good. His job required him to travel, but this would now be his home base. Their home base. Was she ready for this? Were they ready for this? They had talked this out, and determined that it was best for him to move where she was. They would be living in her house, the house that had once belonged to her parents. The house that she was raised in. So many memories, and now this new side-road in life.

The doors opened, and people began streaming out. Karl was one of the first people to come through. He had a huge smile on is face, and as he pulled her to him, Annie knew that all was going to be well.

(c) July 2012 Bonnie Cehovet

Memories

The blue of the water peeked through the trees, inviting yet intimidating. The waves were up, crashing on the beach, then pulling back. Sailboats could be seen out on the water, and, further out, fishing boats going out for the day. The green foliage on the trees made an excellent frame for nature’s picture. The sun was shining, and joy was in the air. The wind was up, but only enough to create an aura of excitement, not enough to make one want to run for cover. Off to the left was a trail leading down to the beach. Do we take that trail, or do we leave our memories here?

© January 2012 Bonnie Cehovet

Happy Thanksgiving!

The path less traveled – that would be the one that I usually take. Why, I have no clue. I like to make my own way, I suppose. Why am I ruminating? Because it is Thanksgiving, and time to return home. It will never be the home of my memories, but it is home.

All those years away – they were good years. It was a time of my life when I was working very hard, but it was worth it. I traveled many roads – quite literally, as I was a long haul trucker. Had my own rig, made my own contracts. I met a lot of very nice people … and some not so nice, but I tend to forget them. In the long run, they will never matter.

I am retired now. And most of my family is gone. All very natural deaths, but deaths, just the same. Some cancer, some heart, some other issues. Then there are the ones that are hanging in there, but don’t have more than a few years to go.  I try to be there as much as I can, but sometimes I do have to wonder if it is worth it.

I am taking pictures as I wander on my path to home. I love to have a record of my journey’s. Can’t even take the old road anymore. They closed that down long ago. I still don’t take the freeway – unless I have to. I like what they call the “scenic route” – especially this time of year, when the colors are so beautiful. Even the morning frost looks magical. Cold, but magical.

Will I get there in time for Thanksgiving? Sure, no problem. Like I said – I have been riding these roads for a real long time. It will be a happy Thanksgiving … different, but happy. Because that is the way that I want it to be.

(c) November 2011 Bonnie Cehovet