My Special Day

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My Special Day

By Anistasia Allread

I decided to try a different approach from my normal for this story. It just hit me this afternoon and spilled forth. I hope you enjoy.

Today was the day, the anniversary of one of the happiest in my memories of happy days. Today had to be perfect, needed to be perfect.

I smoothed down the front of my summer dress before slipping into my strappy sandals, grabbed my large bag and checked my lipstick in the hallway mirror .

The hotel hadn’t changed much since I had last been here, except that it was older, which meant that it was run down and dated, much like myself. The wallpaper in the corridor was faded, pieces of it torn, the paint on the wainscoting chipped, scratched and marred by years of abuse at the hands of careless suitcases.

The lobby looked almost identical, except the coffee maker was a little newer, but only a little by evidence of the coffee stains on the glass carafe.

“Have a good day, Ma’am.” The front desk person smiled. She was young, probably her first real job. She had to be about the age I was when I came here those many years ago.

I slowly made my way down the street. It was only a few blocks to the beauty salon, but I could see in the reflection of the window fronts that I had been gathering the looks of the locals. Did my hair really look that horrible? I paused in front of a vacant shop window and glanced at my self in the dark reflection. It was a mess, I had to admit, but I think they were more interested in the tall lady walking by herself on such a morning.

I entered the salon and greeted the smiling young girl with wild colors in her hair.

“I’ll tell Misty that you are here, Mrs. Wilcox.”

“Thank you.” I smiled. I stopped by yesterday before the salon closed to make this appointment, today had to be special, needed to be special. I had to look special.

Misty, cute as a button, with her blonde highlights greeted me with a smile and led me back to the shampoo bowl and began washing my hair.

“Misty, would you have time to wax my eyebrows?” I asked.

“Of course Mrs. Wilcox.” Misty agreed. “I heard today was a special day.”

“It is, thank you.”

“What is happening today?” Misty asked out of politeness.

“Just a reunion of sorts.” I tried to pass it off.

“Well your nails look great.” Misty commented.

“Thank you. I had them done yesterday.” I clicked my nails together unconsciously then fiddled with a ring on my finger.

Misty curled, ratted, teased and sprayed my hair in place. It was a bit more than I was used to. I didn’t normally wear my hair big and fluffy, being as tall as I was, but this was a special day.

“Thank you again, Misty.” I smiled across the register at her. I paid her for the service and handed her a large bill for a tip.

“Mrs. Wilcox, this is too much.” Misty handed the bill back.

“Keep it Misty. You did a wonderful job and I appreciate it on a day like today.”

“Well thank you, Mrs. Wilcox.”

I over heard the receptionist ask Misty about the special ness of today, and Misty explain to her that I hadn’t told her.

I settled my large sunglasses on my face and hobbled down the sidewalk to a side street. I followed it another block across a wide sidewalk and out into the soft sand.

It had been easier walking across the sand back then, it didn’t seem to pull you down like a dry bog. It also hadn’t felt like it was going to twist my bad knees out of alignment either.

The old wooden boardwalk had been replaced by one of concrete. I felt that it ruined the atmosphere of the beach. The waves broke through the supporting columns, sounding like a thunderous applause. The wind, fresh with a twang of salt, whipped my sundress around my knobby knees. Sea gulls strutted along the high tide marking, foraging for whatever edible trash had been left behind.

The beach had been more crowded the last time I had been here, but I guess young boys would rather be playing their computer games than out playing in the surf, showing their tan bodies off to girls who giggled and whispered at their comings and goings.

I eyed the distance I was from the boardwalk, walked another fifty feet or so and checked the distance again. Time sure played havoc on memories.

I think this is the spot. I looked from the boardwalk to the small town, and to where I was standing. I had to make allowances for the changes that had taken place, but I believe this was the spot.

I pulled a beach blanket out of my large bag and spread it out on the sand. Then, slowly, I eased my old bones down on the blanket, pulled my skirt smooth and looked out into the sparkling diamonds of the sun reflecting off of the water. The sparkles on the water caused me to look down at my oversized hands. Big, clumsy looking, even with the fine manicure and polish. There on my finger was the most spectacular diamond of them all. The tears that flowed from my eyes blurred the glint of the special stone.

This was the spot. This was the special day. This was the anniversary of my happiest day. Forty one years ago today, my Richard, on this spot on the beach asked me to be his wife. He knelt down in the sand before me, knowing everything about me. Knowing who I was, what I longed to be, and he asked me to marry him.

I drew my knees up to my chest, wrapped my arms around them and held on to my engagement ring as tight as I could and cried. This was my special day. The day that changed my life for the better, Forty one years ago.

Richard and I married a year later. It was a small ceremony, but one full of love.

“I love you Richard.” I told the wind, the ocean, the crashing waves. “I love you and miss you. . . I don’t know what I’m going to do. Why did you have to leave me?” I cried.“ It wasn’t his fault, his heart just couldn’t keep up with his body anymore. The Doctor said his heart was enlarged, too big. I know that it was big. He had the biggest heart I had ever known. It always had been, for he loved me as no other could, or would.

I pulled a Kleenex out of my bag and dabbed at my eyes. I didn’t need to cry. Not today. Today was my special day.

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Comments

Good Story

but you're not supposed to make me cry on my birthday!

special day too

So its YOUR special day too!!!

HAPPY NATAL DAY!!!!!!

A.A.

My Special Day

Says a lot in a few words. Love truly knows no bounds, thats what makes a love story like this so special. Richard loved his lady very much.
May Your Light Forever Shine

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine

Awww!

Lovely story - thank you!

Hugs
Sue

Moving

Very moving, Anistasia.

Sarah Lynn

I'm Crying

joannebarbarella's picture

You're rotten, doing that to me, sniff :-)
Joanne

undying love

laika's picture

My Special Day is a magnificent love story. I was almost afraid, as she went about her
careful preparations, and the big tip she left the girl at the salon, oh no, this isn't going
to be one of those suicide stories, is it? Where's the damned tag?
But it was all about life,
and love, and loss and gratitude, and it sure gave my tear ducts a work out. Just beautiful.
~~~hugs, Laika

Good to the last teardrop

Yet another fine entry in the Summer Romance completion.

Bravo to you all, you tear jerking maniacs.

John in Wauwatosa

John in Wauwatosa

Giving my hankie a work out.

Well Anastasia you certainly got the tear ducts flowing and I'm no exception. That was a lovely story. It really tugged at the heart strings. Thank you for posting it.

Tearjerker,

Yes a real tearjerker. I see I'm not alone in having to wipe my eyes after reading this story. Great story that really pulls at the heart strings.
Love and cuddles,
Janice Elizabeth

Vow of Love

The marriage vow reads until death do we part and some say it is unhealthy to continue to mourn the loss of a love one. Others say love is transit and is only to be enjoyed/endured at the moment. If one is lucky enough to have an only love or to have loved more than one, the only question I have is will all like one another in the afterlife because I will not give my love up, for one or for more. Afterall, there is a common interest here to be granted, me!

I am a grain of sand on a near beach; a nova in the sky, distant and long.
In my footprints wash the sea; from my hands flow our universe.
Fact and fiction sing a legendary song.
Trickster/Creator are its divine verse.

--Old Man CoyotePuma

its a Pity i don't have tear

its a Pity i don't have tear ducts ....

actually i do they're just blocked

Imma show this storey around
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no fair!

You made me cry...

*wipes eyes*

I guess that's what I get for reading at work.

That was very lovely, thank you.


Vita est brevis. Occupo quis tripudium vos reperio.
-Life is short. Seize what joy you find.

Somehow I knew

Somehow I knew what to expect, but I cried anyway. Thank you for such a sweet story.

Hugs
Carla Ann