Suitcase of Dreams: A Ressurection Sunday Repost

She opened the closet door, and there it was, although quite well hidden to the passing eye. Diane noticed it every time she opened that door for the past ten years. A dull beige, well worn, ragged piece of canvas with dark brown faux leather straps. The poor thing looked all used up. It was. It had never even been on a vacation.   

She had finally decided it was time. Reaching past the umpteen pairs of shoes, over the boxes of last season's clothes, she pulled it out. Diane  layed the beaten up old suitcase on the bed, remembering when she had last peered inside. Ten years ago?

"My God, where do the years go?", she thought.Wasn't it just yesterday she hurriedly, and unceremoniously packed this thing? He had gone to the store "for a minute". She remembers throwing in clothes that he wouldn't miss her wearing, as she didn't have much. One work uniform, a few pairs of shorts, some old tattered underwear. Clothes for the Daisy and Jimmy. Throwing it in the back of the closet. Just in case.

Just in case she ever got the chance to head to nowhere. To get away, far away. Unfortunately, the threats kept her suitcase of dreams right where she hid it,

Fear has a way of stifling the most ambitious goals. "Don't you think Daisy would look pretty all covered in gasoline? That's what'll happen if you ever think of leaving." "I'll find you and ...", just pick any one of the most horrific things that can be done to a child, and she could bet it has been said to her.

Diane  slid open the rusty old zipper on the suitcase, and had to smile. The clothing in there was musty and worn, but more than that, so outdated. "Did I ever actually wear this?" she mused, removing an old pair of purple, baggy shorts and loose mu mu like top. .She chuckled to herself.  The kids' clothing caused her pause. Remembering her little girl, almost a woman now, running hither and yon with her tangle of long blond hair. Her son, a grown man now, by the U.S. Navy's perspective, was going to be a fine person.

She had succeeded. Neither was aware of just how bad it was. they both bore scars of verbal torment given by their Dad, but had no idea of the silent threats that their Mother lived with every day. He would have carried them out, every one. He was a sociopath of the first order, and when in one of his blind rages, he couldn't think, wouldn't think beyond his own ire. 

Now, she smoothed out the wrinkles of ten years time, pondering the future. Brighter, most definitely for her, but uncertain. How long is long enough? He was buried just two months ago, in his jean jacket and jeans as he had wanted. Just how long is the respectable length of time to grieve for a love that did not exist?

Her hair is shorter now, blonder too, thanks to her teenage daughter's pleading. "Just a few highlights, Mom, we can do each other". She wonders just who got the better end of that deal?

She looks once again at the old, ragged clothes strewn over the double, now single bed.  She goes to the closet once again, donning a pair of well worn sneakers. "Screw it", she thinks to herself."I need new luggage, if we're going to look presentable when we pick up our bags in Hawaii."

Suitcase nightmares have given way to suitcase dreams.  

This was written for a "two word challenge" exercise about three years ago. There is a group for these exercises, moderated by Monica Zenberg, but I have not participated in quite some time now. The idea behind a two word challenge is to take two words, chosen by another group member, and write a sttory using the concepts. The words could be as opposite as "icecicle firestorm" or as mundane as "pork chop". The challenge for the above story was "Suitcase Dreams".