Don't Forget Your Joy
Thoughts as Prayers #4
The Creative Mystic is 3 years old today!! To celebrate I’m sharing a new story. Meet Ken, a widower, and his new four legged friend. May the beauty of the message greet you where you need it most.
She bound through the broken screen door barking to announce her arrival. She was always on time; just as the sun rose enough to bring the house into a shadowed version of itself. Ken had lost the love of his life six months earlier. The day after the funeral this little creature showed up and started this morning ritual.
“You’re back again.” Ken croaked.
He hardly ever left his broken down recliner anymore. The faded cloth held a smell of unwashed body and grief; he couldn’t remember the last time he had bathed. He scratched his face and felt the beard that had formed.
The little dog was dancing and barking in front of the chair until Ken put the recliner down; because he wasn’t young anymore he had to prepare for standing by shifting forward in his seat.
He was old. He was tired. He was alone.
He had lost the best part of himself when Ruth died and now all he had was this little dog that looked more like a large rat. She barked and stood on her hind legs attempting to keep her balance. Ken huffed a small laugh that sounded more like a cough and pushed up to stand.
“You’re going to need a name if you keep showing up like this.”
The dog danced in circles, small yips of approval at he shuffled his feet towards the back of the house.
“I don’t need you telling me what do.”
The hallway was still dark; he fumbled for the light switch then made his way towards the bathroom with the little dog following him.
“You’re not following me in here.”
The dog sat patiently giving one solid bark of agreement. Ken grunted his approval as he closed the door. The large mirror in front of the sink held the image of a person he could hardly recognize. He had lost weight; his eyes were beginning to be overtaken with dark circles and sagging skin. While his beard was blooming white, his lips were chapped and nearly non-existent and what little hair he had left was greasy, standing out in strange places.
“You wouldn’t know me if you saw me today, Ruth.”
He turned the sink on and let the water get hot.
It is time to do something more than just get by, he thought.
The little dog had shown him that.
Everyday she would show up and greet him with the day. She would pester him until he moved and did one small thing to take care of himself. Then she would wag her little tail and bark in farewell only to return again the next day.
She might have an owner. Perhaps he should follow her when she leaves and see where she comes from.
He opened the cabinet to pull out his razor when a small bit of paper fell onto the counter. Written in the hand of his beloved read:
“Don’t forget your Joy”.
The words blurred as a sob escaped. He hated her for leaving so abruptly. He was supposed to be the one to go first. He didn’t know how to do this without her.
A bark outside the door startled him. The water was starting to overflow in the sink. He quickly turned it off and opened the door to grab a towel. The light hit the face of the little dog and Ken swore a look of concern shown there.
“I can’t do this alone.” He whispered.
Joy wagged her tail, placed her paws upon his leg and barked once more.
This story was inspired by Rabindranath Tagore’s quote:
“I slept and dreamt that life was joy. I awoke and saw that life was service. I acted and behold, service was joy.”
My joy and my service in life is to the Creative Spirit that lives within me. May this tiny spark born into a story bring you Joy through the rest of your week.
Lenaleah 💕
PS. Will you celebrate Three Years of writing with me? Please share this story with someone or leave me a comment to let me know your thoughts. Writing is much more fun when you have friends to share it with. 🙏
This is such a lovely, emotional and captivating piece of short fiction. Kudos on 3 years!
Thank you sister