Welcome to the Wakefield Doctrine (the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers)
Here’s a story-ette. It is grounded in the principles of the Wakefield Doctrine. It is short.*
“The brochures say all the rooms face directly out to the ocean and there’s a special kind of air conditioning, it brings in the salt air even though the windows don’t open.”
Ashley’s voice filled the interior of the small car as it turned off the state highway and onto the white, granulated-shell drive that tunneled through the swaying green wall of young pine grove. The truce between her heart and what she knew was-best-for-everyone, carefully established two hours before as she carried a single suitcase from her mother’s home, broke on a jagged inflection, as ‘salt air’ tripped and stumbled over a lifetime of memories.
The steering wheel of the small convertible acquired an un-natural ease of motion beneath her hands, as they broke from the permanently green forest and approached the long, low building. Taking her foot off the accelerator, the car continued to roll towards the entrance, marked in silent letters, ‘The Memory Center’. The battle within Ashley continued with the irrational faith in unanticipated intervention characteristic of all Pyrrhic battles.
If the car stops in front of the door, ok. If it doesn’t, we can go home.
She shut her eyes.
Had there been an observer directly behind her with the proper angle to capture the reflection of both women, they would have seen the emotions filling the space between the daughter and the mother, find their place. Peace in acceptance is often difficult to distinguish from the acceptance of peace.
* we have two serial stories that run on alternate weeks at the Six Sentence Story bloghop. While not six sentences in length, the above is very much a prompt-driven affair. (I was perusing Facebook this morning and came across a post centered on something charming about very old people. Although not directly interested, the caption read, in part: “She lives in a memory care center near the town of…“) Very much like the old days of this blog**, I was possessed of a feeling to feel more…
** no! I don’t mind, laughing with me at the irony
About clarkscottroger
So I clicked the last star up there. Says to tell blog owner “excellent post”.
Heart wrenching story in it’s identifiable poignancy.
Last line.. that last sentence…
thankee
“If the car stops in front of the door, ok. If it doesn’t, we can go home.”
“Peace in acceptance is often difficult to distinguish from the acceptance of peace.”
One of the best love stories is that of a child to an old parent suffering from dementia – this was a great story full of the wonderful emotion – LOVE.
ty
How none of us want to make that drive, as driver or passenger.
arguably the driver’s responsibility is more difficult to bear*
*as one, in that position, would refrain from imposing their pain on their passenger, rather take the more challenging path of feeling peace (despite circumstance)