The aroma drifts from the restaurant’s kitchen, teasing all who enter. Encircling, enticing, enveloping, the aroma begs us, sit for a spell. Coffee poured into waiting cups, chatter and laughter bubble forth filling empty souls. Who knew something so simple held such power.
They wait for me in the booth. We embrace, members of a club. The Wise Women. Well, so much wiser than we were once upon a time before we grew up. Before the littlest moments captured our attention. Our fingers lace around warm cups. We smile; we share our secrets and fears.
We notice little moments now that we’ve matured, like the ladybug drinking the water droplet after the sprinkler’s mist. The golden rim of a child’s greenest eye. We wonder who the government’s new strategist is, chuckle at the lack of strategy. Call us, we muse. We share stories of children, aging parents, trips we’ll take, books we’ve read, journeys we’re on.
My treasured friends, long-standing members of an informal circle of women that joined hands years ago. Once upon a time, we chased our children’s joy, earned our degrees, worked full-time, worked in and worked out. One day, just like that, the years flew by us.
We can’t save the world, some days we only save each other. Aware of each member’s weakest heart spot, we probe gently, cautiously choosing wise words, affirming worth. We’ve all shivered in grief. My friend turns and asks,
“Will you have regrets?”
“No,” I reply, “no amount of money will fix it or make me happier.”
It’s never about money; it’s always about love for another. At least that’s how it rolls for us.
We stand, gather our bills, head over to pay the cashier. We embrace, already awaiting the next time. The Wise Women’s Club adjourns.
Lately I awaken, the dream remnants lingering cast like a veil over form. An unanswered question hovers. Pushed aside, betrayed; shame surfaces. The frightened young woman deep within whispers, I must be flawed, something is wrong with me. The adult reasons, Perhaps not. Perhaps it was as simple as you didn’t fit in anymore.
I am his daughter, patiently holding silences. Chosen memories safe, I snug the precious moments, choosing to believe magical qualities endure. Perhaps not, perhaps fooled into believing an illusion of love.
I want to let him go; there are moments I turn and face the skies, a silent scream of anger for one who betrayed. Believing words that ring hollow. Never an illusion the memories stay, resurfacing at the moment between something to believe in and nothing. The unanswered question remains.
It is hard to trust. Pausing to view the world, once I ran to greet it, cautious now. Someone said,
“Find a way to let it go.”
When I find that way, it will be final. The world will darken a shade as I face the truth.
A hardened heart will alter. So you see, I hold on to him, cherish what I knew, all for a belief in love; I loved him so.
The recently released Maleficent retells the classic fairytale, Sleeping Beauty, with a twist. The viewer gets to follow Maleficent’s point of view, step inside her complex mind and once tender heart to watch as she shows the events leading up to evil darkness. It is my all time favourite fairytale.
In the beginning we see a joyful, spritely Maleficent, Princess and Protector of the Fairyland Moors, joyously winging throughout her kingdom. True to fairytale fashion, along trots a charming Prince. Maleficent possesses human qualities; she possesses an affectionate heart that she entrusts to a flawed Prince, a charming yet disconcerting combination of assets.
The pivotal, foreboding moment is the scene where the vulnerable Maleficent awakens upon the forest floor to discover her coveted dark wings cut off by the hand of the Prince, a man she loved. As her fingertips reach up to stroke the stump of a feathery soft wing, the reader senses impending doom. Betrayed, a haunting scream echoes throughout the moor, sending forth shivers of angst throughout the kingdom and beyond.
- Betrayal is the breaking or violation of a presumptive contract, trust, or confidence that produces moral and psychological conflict within a relationship amongst individuals, between organizations or between individuals and organizations.
- Betrayal – Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
The saddest thing about betrayal is that it never comes from your enemies; it comes from those you love. There are degrees of betrayal, small slip ups to ever-increasing pulsations of anger, jealousy and rage. Greed is the deadliest betrayal and unfortunately too common a reason for a despairing action. Evil takes hold of mind and heart.
Of course light must trump darkness. Maleficent’s heart softens by a raven’s loyal friendship and enduring love from the child she betrayed at birth. There is madness. Our imprisoned Prince can’t escape the voices of his conscience or his yearning heart’s desire for Maleficent. Alas, the crown has tipped; it won’t be happily resolved for our doomed Prince.
As true to fairy tales, there is a happy ending.
Lana Del Ray’s hauntingly beautiful lyrics, “Once Upon a Dream”
We learn from fairy tales about good and evil, of how choice, especially greed affects another. We can choose to live from the heart.
~ I know, I know. Stereotypes must stop; in life Princesses betray Princes. Hollywood are you listening?