Stories From The Rec Room

I’ve got them Monday, November is around the corner blues and the urge to hibernate is trumping my urge to write, so I thought I would re-post one of my personal faves in case anyone missed it from many moons ago. Carry on 🙂

A Patient Voice



My sister visited and the two of us carried my Father’s old chair from the rec room to the curb. Letting go and closure are not lines in the sand, they are like storms that blow across Lake Huron. Come and go.

I am laughing to myself now as I imagine my one of two Michelles, in a canoe paddling and singing “The Colours of The Wind”.

What a beautiful song.

What a beautiful friend.

What a beautiful friendship.

During the time that the chair had been vacant, a mouse had built a nest in the chair’s pocket, a home made of Kleenex and shredded up pieces of cardboard from the boxes of macaroons that my Dad, the man that said every kid deserves a chance, would feed my dog Otis who would grin like an ass eating thistles.


Memories wrapped in memories.

Loss wrapped up in loss.

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One thought on “Stories From The Rec Room

  1. Last night, I had that same feeling you describe here, Harlon. Wanting to write, but not sure what. I feel I was in good company… I loved this post start-to-finish. So many drops of wisdom and compassion. I love Homeland, too… 🙂 I haven’t started watching this season yet. I’m saving it for a long Christmas break… 🙂

    Peace and Love,

    Liked by 1 person

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