The yellow pages of the book still have that lovely smell that she used to like when she first bought it. While turning the page to chapter 10 Mrs.Thompson suddenly noticed her hand, the colour, the shape, even the rings she used to wear were different. It was nearly 5 o’ clock in the afternoon and she was feeling tired, so tired that she couldn’t even make a cup of tea to herself. But she was determined to do so because had to take some high pressure medicine afterwards, so she went to the kitchen and as she was putting the kettle on, she saw from the window a group of youngsters walking down the road and one of them wearing that silly big happy birthday badge on. Suddenly, in her mind, the sun of the timid spring sunlight went away and it all turned black and the space, that space was so big and deep that you could have drown in it.
Birthdays, she didn’t remember her birthday or maybe she didn’t want to. 70 years ago she had a big family, grandparents, parents, God she missed them so much, she missed her granddad taking her to buy the nicest ice-cream in the world, she missed her grandma bringing her fresh and juicy tomatoes from the market. She has never had a second chance to try them since then, even though tried so hard to find them. Her mum sewing her that pretty mint dress or going with her father fishing, playing with my sister in their small room.How could she not give to those moments the right value! Oh those years, those years were the best ones because she was happy, graceful and full of life. “But wait a minute” she thought to herself “Was it then that I was full of life or is it now ?”She had a point because she had lived a lot of years, she had survived all the obstacles, humiliations, frustrations, fights, problems, joys, sorrows and challenges. She was full of all that material now and in her mind and heart she had a lot to tell and keep as secrets.
So all those years passing by had given her lots of worries but also satisfactions, triumphs, aspirations and most of all she had experienced love, she had been loved by her parents, her husband, her children and grandchildren. What else could she ever ask? “Well nothing” you would say, Mrs. Thompson have had a lot in her life she was “full of life years”. Yet ,deep in her heart she would feel selfishly ” I know I have passed through a lot of bridges and roads but I want more of those years, I know, I can give more to myself, I need to challenge the past and future years, I am not ready to give up”. What she had learned in life was that all you need to do to survive to those terrifying numbers is fighting as much as you can by putting you heart and soul in it because life is too short and everyday is a second chance. There is a lot more to see and feel, people visiting other planets, robots cleaning your house, new clothes’ trends, new fossils, new pie recipes, new discoveries. She wants to be there on the first line once again.
As she went to sit down to her favourite side of the sofa, the one next to the window, the book was still jealously waiting there for her. She was reading “The tempest” from Shakespeare, she loved it because she was feeling like she was in the middle of a tempest lately, she was that boat roughly rocking in the immense sea. The sea was trying to devour her into its unknown but she was always struggling to get to that special island, to start a new experience one more time as fresh as ever because she was still that young special lady she was 50 years ago or was it 60 years may be, oh whatever, numbers are not important, we shouldn’t be scared of them anymore, what is important is how you manage to get to the shore after the storm and proudly shout to yourself: I did it!
Dedicated to all those young minded people,who never give up,respect and love life.