Alicia Anthony

Suspense with a Twist

Tag: memories

Moments That Make It All Worthwhile

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This week my daughter came home with an assignment for her 8th grade English Language Arts class. They are studying suspense (go figure) and they are charged with writing a story. She’d written the beginning in class and was dying to have me listen to it. And, let’s face it, I was dying to hear it!

As she read, my grin grew wider and wider. To the point she asked me what was so funny (it is supposed to be a suspense story, after all). I was at a loss for words. I couldn’t explain my reaction to the story my daughter had penned. I was floored. My little girl, who has struggled in school since Kindergarten, who never liked to read “for fun,” captured my attention from the moment she started reading. Listening to her unveil these characters, conjured from her own imagination, made me realize why I commit so much time and energy to writing. I do it to create another world. To find enough magic in words to breathe life into characters that feel like friends. To find connections where there once were none. The possibility that Jillian is now starting to understand the draw of such creation gives me a warm fuzzy feeling that is hard to explain.

I can’t wait to hear what happens to Jillian’s character of Rachel as she leaves Denver to open a bookstore in Dublin, Ireland with her family. I sense a peculiar magic developing in Jillian’s story and can’t wait to read more.Who knows? Maybe one day we can write a book together!

How’s that for a dose of inspiration?

A Walk Down Memory Lane

One morning, many years ago, a little red-haired girl stood at the top of a flight of stairs, rubbing her eyes and yawning the remnants of sleep away. Her stuffed turtle was clutched in her little fist as she descended the stairs toward the scent of freshly fried bacon and homemade pancakes. That little girl was me, of course, and this morning I was transported back to those days thanks to the kindness of strangers.

Growing up, I spent a good deal of time at my grandparents’ farm. The century old structure somehow soaked up all those memories, holding them tight within her walls through the years, and today they came spilling out. Ten years ago, Doug and I sold our home in Columbus after agreeing to purchase “the farm” (as we lovingly called it) from my aunt. Unfortunately, the best laid plans do not always work out, and such was the case with the farm. Instead, we were left to quickly find a replacement home and ended up where we live today. I’ve always wondered what would have happened if the transaction had worked out. Those walls that saw so many Christmas gatherings, the floors that withstood the frolicking of rambunctious cousins, and the yard that provided endless hours of sun-drenched entertainment would stay in the family. I often regret that we couldn’t make that happen.

This morning I drove down a familiar long gravel driveway. Under the guise of a garage sale, I was prying into the lives of the couple who now lived within those memory-filled walls. The closer I got to the house, the more solid the lump in my throat became. What would I find? Would this couple have any interest in sharing a walk down memory lane for people they’d never met? Thankfully, they did.

These amazing people have lovingly returned my grandparents’ old farmhouse back into a well-loved home. As I ventured inside, I was struck by the care they’d taken. Flowers bloomed across the yard and along the walk. The kitchen, where I’d eaten more silver-dollar pancakes than a child ever should, was in its glory. An apron front sink spoke of an era gone by, and each furnishing seemed specially chosen to accent the age of the home. I was enthralled, and frankly, leaving was hard.

But as I drove away, I realized something. These wonderful people are perfect caretakers for the farm. I’d been afraid the new residents would somehow strip those memories away, but instead, they’ve managed to magnify them. I can still see that little red-haired girl at the top of the stairs, with turtle in hand, waiting to join her Grandmother and Grandaddy around a worn kitchen table.

Deep down I will always bear a seed of regret, and perhaps, when the time is right, I’ll have the opportunity to make it right. But in the meantime, I can rest easy, knowing that through the kindness of strangers, I got one more walk down memory lane.

Blog-o-Rama, Day 5: Paper

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Paper… wow! So much is made from paper! I thought about money, but that didn’t really inspire me. I thought about posting a pic of my marriage license, but that would require me digging through my house to try to locate it… nah, too ambitious for a Sunday afternoon. Then it hit me. I’ve done a ton of scrapbooking in the last fifteen years. So, I decided for this prompt that I had to post a pic of something I created from paper. Something that means quite a bit to me. In fact, the item I chose is one of just a handful of things I would grab if I were forced to evacuate my home in a hurry.

It’s Jillian’s scrapbook.

She has more than one, so I would have my hands full in an emergency situation, but photos are like little mini-memories. You just can’t get them back once they are gone. After much debate, I finally settled on two pictures. One is a Favorite Things layout from Summer 2008, and the other is a Life’s a Beach page from our Spring 2008 Hilton Head Island vacation. I couldn’t decide between the two of them, so I hope you’ll indulge me and enjoy them both.

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