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    As I Sit Here Listening
    As I Sit Here Listening
    As I Sit Here Listening
    Ebook65 pages1 hour

    As I Sit Here Listening

    By Valerie Hockert, PhD

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Middle-age woman, who likes to entertain had recently lost her spouse and thought that her life was worthless and she was useless. She had been putting mementos and photos in a scrapbox and album and reminiscing, when she had the idea to throw a party asking each guest to bring something old and nostalgic—a hankie, piece of jewelry, small tool, souvenir, button, playbill, or other small item. The idea was that each guest would have to tell the story behind the item.

    Little did woman know that some guests would have surprising secrets to which their memento was tied. A prior life, a lost child, an accident--many had sadness attached to their mementos, but kept them to tie them to reality.

    After listening to all the sad stories, woman decides her life wasn’t so bad after all, and that she had a purpose of being a friend to these people.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherJustice Gray
    Release dateAug 27, 2015
    ISBN9781310529733
    As I Sit Here Listening
    Author

    Valerie Hockert, PhD

    Valerie Hockert, was born in the Midwest where she has lived all her adult life. She has had much life experience through her various entrepreneurial life. She has a Master's Degree in Liberal Studies, and a PhD in Literary Studies. Dr. Hockert has been teaching at a college level for many years. She was the first publisher of the Writers' Journal and Today's Family, two national publications. She is also a certified personal trainer, great chef, and the Publisher of an e-magazine: www.realitytodayforum.com.

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      Book preview

      As I Sit Here Listening - Valerie Hockert, PhD

      As I Sit Here Listening

      By Valerie Hockert

      ~~~

      Smashwords Edition

      Valerie Hockert

      realitytodayforum@gmail.com

      Copyright: © 2015 by Reality Today Forum. All rights reserved

      No part of this document may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission of author.

      Smashwords Edition, License Notes

      This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

      Table of Contents

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

      Chapter Six

      Chapter Seven

      Chapter One

      Rain tapped against the windows like a stranger coming to call, drawing me closer to the familiar comfort of the fireplace. My eyes habitually flickered to the empty chair beside the fireplace—his chair—and my fingers absentmindedly caressed an old photograph. The heart attack had been so unexpected, so sudden, and my mind still couldn’t quite grasp the concept of being a widow.

      I continued shuffling through a box of mementos, savoring the bittersweet recollection of each memory and feeling a strange sense of unquenchable uneasiness. A fragile red rose pressed between the pages of his favorite book, a glass bottle of his favorite cologne, a pair of ticket stubs from the play he took me to on our anniversary—these mementos were all I had left of Jim. His life had been reduced to scattered memories and an insignificant box of knick-knacks.

      As soon as the thought passed through my mind, I felt a twinge of remorse. I glanced again at the empty chair and imagined his crooked, chiding smile. Memories were natural comforts. He would have understood my need for these mementos. Not only did they tie him to me, but they also tied me to reality.

      Then a thought occurred to me. I wasn’t the only one who had experienced loss. And I couldn’t be the only one who used mementos as anchors to reality. It was a part of everyone’s lives they had to be cope with…did they manage it the same way?

      ***

      I decided to test my theory by inviting my closest friends to a dinner party, asking each one to bring a personal memento. Not just any personal memento either, their most personal one, the one object that they’d always keep no matter what, something tied to a tragedy they’d never forget.

      It’d be interesting to see what the others cherished and valued. Carefully, I tucked Jim’s items back in the box and began planning the dinner.

      The attendees would include:

      · Vanessa Cartwright, an elementary school choir teacher.

      · Amelia Roberts, a single, older woman who I don’t believe worked, but whom had some money from a past business or something

      · Sara Bridges, a young housewife;

      · Audrey Lewis, a college friend of mine

      · Elizabeth Waters, a neighbor who was also a housewife.

      They all knew each other reasonably well because I organized a book club and invited each of them. They’d been coming together for years, except Audrey. She only started coming more recently as she moved closer to us. She’s still about an hour away, but she doesn’t mind joining up with us.

      They don’t always get along, but they have some colorful conversations between them in the club, I’m sure their opinions would be valuable when it would come to something as serious as this, and I was sure they could keep their normal bickering over silly things to a minimum.

      A few weeks later, I welcomed the guests into my home: After a polite amount of inconsequential small talk and tiny pieces of cheese and wine, we all took out our mementos, sat in some soft, cushiony chairs I pulled together into a circle, and sort of stared blankly at one another.

      No one knew quite how to approach the situation, each feeling a little self-conscious; these were our most personal mementos after all, and although I knew all of them, we really didn’t all know one another that well. When the silence was at its peak, I was about to clear my throat to begin the events so to speak, but first, one brave soul would speak and the stories would begin to unfold.

      Chapter Two

      I’ll go first, Sara said who spoke barely above a whisper.

      Everyone turned to face Sara, warily watching as she fiddled with the small stuffed lion in her hands.

      He was my sunshine, she whispered. My own golden fleck in the darkness.

      She looked up at the group as if adjusting back to reality. She swallowed and took a steadying breath before continuing her story.

      After a year of trying to have a child and several miscarriages and sleepless nights, Michael and I were blessed with

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