Dining Duo

 

“Remember when we used to come here all the time?” Lisa rested her chin on her palm, elbow propped onto the tablecloth, and dreamy eyes gazing out the diner’s window.

Her mother nodded, throat too full of ache to speak. She signaled for the check. Lisa looked so much like Gloria in that posture. The two had the same mannerisms, the same coloring and freckled cheeks, even the same tone. The niece’s resemblance to her aunt had been a source of joy. Still was. Always will be. But there was loss there, too.

Now that Gloria was gone.

 

 

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

(photo prompt – © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields)

 

41 thoughts on “Dining Duo

  1. Na’ama Y’karah,

    I agree with Dale. I could feel the aunt’s ache. We have a nephew whose mannerisms are so like his deceased father’s (my brother in law) that it’s startling. These aren’t learned. Jesse was only 2 when Jerry was killed in a car accident. And of course, it makes us miss Jerry
    You have a real knack for these types of stories.

    Shalom,

    Rochelle

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thank you Rochelle,
      It is fascinating to me to see how people are and are not like each other … and the intricacies of and/and realities of emotions and connections and what and how they are communicated is … well … where I spend a lot of my time. Including with realities that are far less than ‘good enough’ and yet the resiliency that can grow in spite of it. So … I’m so very glad if some of this gets communicated in my writing! XX
      And, yes to the ache of loss and the sweeter ache of hope and the warmth of connection. xx

      Liked by 1 person

  2. I really like this… speechlessly like this. Sitting by the window, the empty seat across from me where a dear one once sat. There’s a lot of this ache going around these days. You’ve captured it well. 🙂 ❤

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Lovely story, Na’ama. A niece who looks like a daughter, and acts like her, is never quite going to be good enough. But I guess Mom is emotionally sufficiently aware to take the good and gradually let go of the loss.

    Liked by 1 person

Feedback welcome! Please leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s