To Be Married

Last weekend my Grandma, a woman very dear to my heart, passed away at the age of 88. Her funeral was that Thursday, so I of course didn’t update as per schedule. Though it’s without a doubt the saddest thing to ever happen in my life, I want to remember the good times rather than the last moments. The following story is true!! My grandma and grandpa were married nearly 60 years and it’s a miracle nobody died of natural selection. Though there are many tales I could tell, this is probably my favorite.

I hope it amuses you at much as it does me.


It was a bright day without a cloud in the sky. Donald walked outside into the back lawn with his morning coffee and surveyed his land. His wife, Leona, walked past him dressed for a relaxing morning hanging laundry, basket and pins in hand.

“Are you going to paint that chair you’ve been talking about for the past week?” She smiled up at him.

“You bet,” he said, sipping his coffee with a determined look. “I’m going to use up the rest of that old paint. You’ll be knitting in that chair by tomorrow, mark my words.”

“Have fun.” Leona waved over her shoulder as she headed to the clothes line.

Finishing his coffee Donald stepped back into the house. A month ago he bought a nice old rocker from a friend; a new coat of paint and it would be good as new. Dressed in his oldest pair of overalls he walked back to the shed where the chair waited. Pulling from one of the many overflowing, but neatly organized, shelves a can of black spray paint he gave it a few good shakes. Pulling off the cap he held it a few inches away from the wood and pressed down on the nozzle. Nothing happened. He pressed down harder and nothing happened. He shook the can a few more than a few more times and pressed again, yet still nothing.

Examining the can he found the nozzle caked with hard paint from inactivity. “Hmm,” thinking up a simple solution to a simple problem he headed back to the house with the spray can, waving to his wife as he passed. Walking into the kitchen he headed to the stove and turned it on to a mild 350 degrees. When the preheat light dimmed he opened the door and quickly placed the spray can on the top rack. Figuring ten minutes would be more than enough to re-liquefy the hardened paint he set the timer and stepped outside onto the front porch, the day’s sun far too nice to miss out on.

Leona hummed quietly to herself, focused entirely on hanging her wears here and there until an explosion from the kitchen that rattled the windows set her flat on her feet and running into the house. “Don?” She called out, the usually calm woman letting panic slip into her voice. Her eyes landed on his figure standing just inside the frame leading into the living room. Relieved her husband seemed fine Leona’s eyes gradually took in the rest of the room.

Black paint covered everything. Her refrigerator, her cabinets, the table, the windows; black splatters of paint lent a macabre feeling to the once cheery room. Her stove’s door lay broken off its hinges in the middle of the floor where a small scrap of metal that once was a spray can lay dead.

Her expression said it all. Looking at her husband Leona struggled to utter an appropriate sentence through her rage. “You will buy me a new refrigerator.” She said through gritted teeth and turned away, stomping out the back door.

Donald looked around the once clean, yellow tinted kitchen and sighed deeply. Gingerly he stepped forward just enough to reach his car keys from the wall-peg they hung on. To the hardware store it was. Tomorrow would have to wait it’s turn.      


Little Lady Princess

Lady looked out the window dismally. The day was beautiful, gorgeous, perfect even. The sun smiled down on the land and everything on it. Birds chirped, rejoicing the recent hatching of their offspring. Dogs barked and people talked. A group of children, Lady recognized some of them from around the town, were playing a game of ball just outside her house. She felt it must have been a cruel joke by God for them to pick such a spot at such a time.

Lady was mature for her age not by nature but by upbringing. She knew this and felt the difference between herself and her peers. She often lay in bed at night and mourned for her youth, tossed aside in favor of someone else’s agenda.  She knew the opportunities she would be granted were beyond measure and well worth her trouble, but she could not dash the sound of distant laughter from her mind for all the bright future in the world.

“Lady.” Her mother called, entering her bedroom. Turning from the window Lady curtsied. “Now there’s my little princess.” Examining her daughter, she straightened her dress and fluffed her hair while quizzing. “Let’s begin today by going over what we learned yesterday.” Walking to the front of the room her mother stood in such a way that would make a marble statue jealous.

“A proper lady,” Lady began. “Keeps a decent house and home, thinks much and speaks little, and can silence a room with just a look. She reserves her bedroom behavior for the bedroom; it is not for the world to see therefore employing the valuable moral of “leaving something to the imagination”.

Lady didn’t understand everything she said. She knew at a young age she was promised to a boy a few ages older than her, but in all the years since she had met him not once. Her mother promised they would meet when he was ready and that in the meantime she should work on improving herself for her future position.   

“Good.” Her mother, once in her own position (so she was told) smiled. “Today we’re going outside.” Lady perked up, daring to hold her breath for hope of feeling the sun directly against her skin. “We are going to practice walking up and down stairs.” Her mother elaborated, clapping excitedly. Lady fought hard to maintain her composure and not throw herself to the floor in exasperation.

Handed a pair of new heels, considerably taller than any she’d worn before, she was led out into the hall. Standing before the grandest decent in the house Lady swallowed nervously. “A real lady looks the most graceful when descending a staircase in heels and a dress.” Her mother said over her shoulder.

Lady took a deep breath, gathered her skirts, and took the first step. It started out shakily but with each clap of her heels she became more confident. She lowered her skirts just enough and reached for the railing hoping to convey eloquence. It only took a second for her skirts to mingle with her heels and form one budging mass, sending her tumbling down the majority of the flight.

Disoriented she heard the clack of her own mother’s heels as she rushed down the stairs after her fallen child. Hoisted up, sorting up from down, Lady counted her bruises but sent a quick prayer in thanks she was still alive. Sighing, her mother held her head.      

“Maybe we should start smaller…” She looked at Lady encouragingly. “I’ll have to think of something… For now why don’t you go outside for some fresh air? You’ve seemed pale lately.”

Blinking, Lady broke into a grin and ran upstairs back into her room as if nothing had happened. Changing into a more manageable outfit she dashed out the front door without a care in the world. 

Magic Love

“I am ready to be married.” She cooed to her Love.


They had only known each other for two months, but were already so deeply and irrevocably in love that God himself could not tear them apart. They were perfect for one another. The Princess, soon to be Queen, had grown up dreaming of a man such as her fiancé. The same could be said of him. The moment they saw each other they knew. It was that sort of love. 


The date was set and all the preparations were made; the whole land had been invited to participate in the ceremony one way or another, for the prince loved his people only second to his bride. A week was left to slowly tickle away, teasing the lovers worse than they did themselves.


The princess, with nothing much to do until after the wedding, had taken to walking through the grounds in the early afternoon just after lunch. On one such afternoon she walked along the border gazing off dreamily into shadows the tops of the trees threw below their branches. She blinked once and saw nothing. She blinked twice and a man appeared, standing just within the reach of the shade.


Startled, the Princess asked his name. He told her, and then bid her never to repeat it. “Come into the forest with me,” The man said, holding out a hand. “Walk with me for a time.”    


The Princess had never encountered anything but kind-heartedness in her time, and being the young girl she was, took the man’s hand and walked with him through the forest without a second thought. There they talked of many things. The Princess told the man of her Love, and of her eagerness for marriage. The man smiled and told her of his loveless life, for he lived in the forest and led a cold existence. The Princess listened to the man’s story, emotions, thoughts and words, she felt her heart moved in a way it never had. 


As time wore on the Princess returned to the castle, welcomed back by her Love with open arms and a pure smile. She embraced him warmly, but a thought or two still stayed with the dark man in the forest.


She walked the next day by the forest and the man appeared again. It soon fell into habit that the Princess spent her afternoons with the man. It gradually came to pass that the Princess packed up her lunch and shared it with the Forest Man before their walks. Every evening, when he escorted her out of the forest, the man would remind her to never mention him. She promised, and never broke it.


A change occurred, and it was so drastic of a change that the Princess could not ignore it. She looked forward not to her afternoon walks, but of spending time with her Forest Man. She regretted every night when she left him and returned to her Love. Her Love; he did not fascinate her as he once had.  


The afternoon before the wedding the Princess confessed this to the mysterious man. He kissed her shortly after, rough with desire. In that moment the Princess’s heart shifted. She no longer loved the Prince, but a mysterious man who lived in the forest. She fell so deeply she swore, why, he must have cast a magic spell over her with that kiss. 


As time wore on, she did not return to the castle. The man took her back to his home where they lived quite happily together for a time. But as day’s passed the Princess could not bar her residual emotions.


She did love the Prince, but she also loved the Forest Man. Her conflicting emotions sent shivers down her spin. She loved both, but the magic man enveloped her in ways her charming prince never could. She hated herself for that, leaving the pure good behind for isolation.


“What do you think of me? What do you think of your life now?” The man asked one day, holding her so closely she felt the very warmth of his heart against her cheek.


She bit back a tear as she spoke the truth. “I wish I’d never met you. In fact, I curse the day I first laid eyes on you.” She looked up into his eyes. “I hate that I love you more than anything. So much so that I left my life and future behind for you alone.”


“I’m sorry,” He breathed into her ear.


“I know.” The Princess whispered, yielding completely to the man she now lived for. Her Prince of the Forest.