Charmaine Gordon
First there was life as expected, back in the days when dinosaurs roamed the earth. A girl child is born to become a good daughter, to learn the homely task of keeping a comfortable house, and thus prepared, she becomes—what else?—a perfect wife. Ah but what if the girl has dreams and maybe they will, to some degree, come true. Grown up now with many children, after years as an Air Force wife and living all over the states, they move to NY. And there a professional acting career begins followed by an idea.
Between acts of an Off Broadway play, she thinks about a couple on a jogging path. At the end of the play’s run, she begins the solitary experience of writing. Not totally alone because fictional characters show up to perch on her shoulder, whisper in her ear and she listens and types. First dialogue and then paint in the scenery; use the five senses as much as she can. Hours pass as the story unfolds where parts of her own life drop on to the page unbidden. She doesn’t mean to reveal herself but there it is; the sudden loss of a loved one; taking one step at a time; mistakes made; and somehow moving on to survive and thrive.
Yes, the woman is me, Charmaine Gordon. The story became NOW WHAT? published by Vanilla Heart. I didn’t know about the writing process. I just opened my veins and let emotions flow. Not easy although acting experience helped. Once you’ve opened the tap, you’re on.
PROLOGUE
It was 2:30 a.m. when the phone rang. I fumbled for it, my heart starting a race toward
bad news. Our doctor’s voice urged me to hurry. I crammed into clothes as if I expected this
call. Actually I thought all would be well, or did I? It was only a fever that wouldn’t go down.
Only a fever yet the dogs had curled up next to him on his favorite couch and never left his side
all week. His ruddy complexion drained to gray. Only a fever.
I cried all the way driving too fast on Eden’s Expressway. Then the slow elevator
ride to the fourth floor, a sprint down the dim corridor to his room. He lay on the hospital bed
where I’d kissed him goodbye not so many hours before. I’d said, “See you tomorrow.” My
husband of thirty years replied with words I hadn’t heard in a long time. “I love you.” Not
since the heart attack two years before when he began listening to his heart beat and forgot about
me. Our doctor shook his head. “Bob had difficulty breathing. They called me. We did
everything possible to save him. I held him in my arms when he took his last breath. Carly, I’m
so sorry.”
I asked him to have everyone leave me alone. Settling in beside my Bob, I held his
cooling hand and asked the two words spoken many times during our years together.
“Now what?” This time there was no response. I was on my own for the first time.
My hands caressed his sweet face knowing he wasn’t there. Only his shell
lay on the bed. The essence, the beauty of his spirit had moved on. I let my eyes gaze around the
colorless room; the water glass half empty now, straw bent for easy access. His toothbrush
leaned in a container, toothpaste smeared down its side. The scuffed leather slippers under the
bed and striped terry cloth robe—a Christmas gift from the kids, draped over a nearby chair.
Homey and homely. And the saddest sight I’ve ever seen.
When my fingers touched his wedding ring, I slipped it off and held it in my fist. The
gold band was warm. I clung to him. “Come back to me, dearest.”
I knew from past experience, loved ones always return.
Visit Charmaine at her website, or follow her on Twitter @CharJGordon!
March 18th, 2012 at 8:01 pm
Angela, thanks for inviting me to your beautiful blog this week.
March 19th, 2012 at 12:32 pm
You’ve had such an interesting life, Charmaine! I always enjoy reading more about it.