Page 27 - Cindy Salas Murphy San Diego Woman Magazine

F ANT ASTIC FLASH FIC TION

LIFE AS A QUILT REGINA

By Shelley Burbank by Jess Petrencsik
Sasha relaxed into her favorite armchair. She play- Regina sat under the veranda, an old wool blan-
fully swung her foot as she sipped lavender tea ket wrapped around her shoulders. Late winter
sweetened with just a smidge of honey. Fragrant mornings in Southern California start out frig-
steam rose from the cup, curling in a ray of sun- id, but gradually grow warm as the sun rises.
shine falling through the window. A log fell in the Until that low hanging sun spent some time
fireplace. lighting up the sky, she would find her cozy in
the blanket.
In this quiet solitude of late afternoon, she thought
about that morning’s quilt show—all the beautiful Al sat beside her, stretching most of his aging,
designs and colors, some embroidered, others with lanky body into a sunny patch. He closed his
pretty appliqués, and of course the sturdy classic eyes as the warmth crept across his face.
patterns—and the delight of spending time with her This was Regina’s favorite time of day. Birds
grown daughters, beautiful and talented each in her offered their songs, and the hum of cars on
own way. Amy taught first graders. Mia was still in the main road taking children to schools and
law school. She was so proud of them both, happy grown-ups to work offered a distraction to the
they had found their professions.
matters on her mind and the aches and pains of
She’d always been a housewife and mother. For her joints. Sometimes she had something to of-
a few years, in her forties, Sasha had felt weighed fer back. A few breadcrumbs in her hand could
down by regret. She hadn’t chased a wild dream or entice a little brown bird to hop into her palm,
built a big career. Instead, she’d focused on home its tiny toes gently scratching her skin. When
things: gardens and crafts and cooking, decorating her daughter was three, they fed the ducks to-
her house, creating a warm and welcoming space gether at grandma’s house. It’s always possible
for family, friends, and neighbors to gather and en- to find bread. No matter what, bread can be
joy each other’s company. She’d focused her ener- had, even if her daughter, now 10, lived with
gies on her children and their school projects and Nanna.
piano lessons and sports. She’d been a partner and Al took a swig from the two-liter Coke bottle
companion to her husband whose work included and passed it to her. They shared things, her
frequent travel.
and Al. He took good care of her. He liked to
She’d served on various committees at church and say, “It’s us against the world, kiddo.” She
her beloved town library, volunteering her time wasn’t a kid, but he teased her like that because
and energy to the community, but perhaps she of their 20-year difference in age.
could have done more, started her own business, or Traffic backed up at a nearby stoplight, and the
worked for a large company, making her way up the mother in the blue van looked over at the cou-
corporate ladder. For a while, she felt she’d squan- ple sprawled on the ground in front of the gro-
dered those years while other women made a real cery store—their hollow cheeks and weathered
place for themselves in the world.
skin, the short dreads poking out of the wom-
Luckily, that time of regret and frustration passed. an’s head, the grizzled gray jowls of the man,
Now, she saw that her life was her creation, each the dirty coats and blankets. Then the light
day a square on a beautiful quilt like those she’d turned green, and as the mother lifted her foot
seen hanging at the show today. from the break, her thoughts turned to what
she would cook for dinner that night.
She sipped her tea, enjoying the delicate flavor and
the warmth of the steam on her face. Time was too
precious to waste on regret, anyway. Better to en-
joy the moment, appreciate the blessings that had
come your way, and stay focused on the quiet, sim-
ple beauties all around.

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