Month: May 2019

Kaleidoscopes

It was my birthday.  There was a party.  I got presents.  The best and the most wonderful present was a kaleidoscope.

How magical.  Every colour of the rainbow and every hue imaginable, jumbled, tumbled, scattered, reformed then rearranging themselves into fantastical patterns, symmetrical, ordered, pleasing.  Awesome!

Disorder tamed and changed into order.  A chaotic profusion of wild, disparate colours gathered and sequenced into beauty, a moving spectacle that you controlled simple by a turn, a little shake, the merest tremor and new patterns emerged.

Every different settling was new, surprising, and magical.   There were enumerable moments of discovery filled with joy.

I have a new kaleidoscope.  I am desperately twisting, turning, and shaking seeking its order.  I want the chaos of my life in this kaleidoscope to fall seamlessly into place, into an order I can understand.  My new kaleidoscope is faulty.   No matter how I turn and shake and try to encourage it to form Tiffany glass creations of beauty and unity, I fail.

I can see bits and pieces scattering as they fall but they refuse to coalesce and, if a few do by chance, the result is disordered.   It is a fusion of confusion.  A hodgepodge of the past familiar intermingled with hiccups and blanks of the present.   What is created is strange to me though the pieces are familiar.   I have failed the course of making sense out of nonsense.

My Bert is my new kaleidoscope.  The beautiful patterns we used to make together are now no more.  He is a mirror that has lost its ability to reflect; a dancer without coordination.

As a child I wanted to go into the kaleidoscope to see how it worked.  I wish I could go into my Bert’s brain to see how it is, see how it works and to see if there is anything I can do to fix it.  Then again: “If wishes were horses, beggars would ride.”

The Meander: I kept my childhood kaleidoscope for a long time.  It delighted and entertained.  Then I lost it.  My Bert and I have known each other for 52 years and have been married for 50 years and counting.  I suppose that is a long time.  He still tries to delight and entertain.  It is an effort.  I have not lost him.  Not yet.

Deck Encounter

We sat on deck, looking out on a calm sea that shimmered in the moonlight.

We were six, two couples plus a mother and adult son.  We had met on a cruise eight years before and we had been travelling together ever since.

We were a compatible lot and conversation never lagged.

This night was the Captain’s welcome reception and dinner.  We had all dressed up, joined the line to meet the Captain, drank the champagne and had a very nice dinner. 

We sighed in contentment. 

We were rehashing the jokes of the entertainer, a comedian, who was quite good when a young man came in sight.   Wow!

He was tall, dark, and handsome with full sensuous lips, deep blue eyes, a high forehead from which his hair fell in soft waves to his shoulders.  Yes, all the clichéd descriptions of the hero one could find in Mills and Boon and Harlequin romance novels were rolled into one eye-popping package and walking towards us.  He was the epitome of male pulchritude.

“Oooh! I would never say no to any request from this one!” Pat remarked sotto voce.

“MOTHER!” exclaimed Francis in such a shocked voice we all burst into laughter.

The young man turned and said: “That must have been a good one.”   With uncharacteristic boldness I said: “Come over and join us and we will share it with you.”

“Thanks, I will.”  He pulled out a chair came over and said: “Hi, I am Sean.”

We introduced ourselves.  Gary, the only smoker in our group had noticed the cigarette case Sean had pocketed before he accepted our invitation.  He suggested they have a smoke.

Sean accepted and he and Gary moved closer to the rail and ashtrays.    We surmised Sean had come out for air and a smoke before returning to his date/fiancée/wife/partner.

Cigarette done, Penny, Gary’s wife told Sean about our plans to go listen to the Jazz trio in the Piano Bar.  She invited him to join us.

There was a slight hesitation before Sean confirmed he was waiting for someone but maybe they would accompany us to the Piano bar also, if we did not mind.

Pat, our master of sotto voce whispered to Penny: “I should have known that someone who looks like that would be not alone.”   It was said with such a mixture of regret, desire and a hint of peevishness that Francis uttered a groan.   

The conversation flowed and then Sean told us he was waiting for his parents.  He explained that they all had early dinner together but his parents liked to go to relax with a cocktail before catching the later show.  He was quite happy with that arrangement because then his mother could pretend he did not smoke and he could have a cigarette without her telling him what a nasty habit it was.

“I am with your mother.  Gary is the only smoker in our group and he gets the ‘nasty habit’ lecture on a daily basis even from the former smokers here.”

He smiled and said: “Well, then if you tell me not to smoke, I won’t.”

Before I could reply, a door opened and the first people coming from the late show drifted towards our corner.  Sean got up, went towards the door and said:”They’re coming.”

He looked downwards, we looked up.

Coming towards us was the most striking couple.

Little people.  Very   Little   People.

Both were resplendent in their formal wear.  Both had the biggest smile when they saw Sean. Sean bent down, hugged both and said: “Mum and Dad, I want to introduce you to some people.”  They came forward hands held out.

“Hello, I am Mary and this is Hector, my husband.  You have met our son Sean.  I bet he was out here grabbing a smoke.  Nasty habit that.”

How gracious and how adroitly she had put us at ease.  Yet, we could not help it; we gaped even as we smiled.  I looked up at Sean and looked down at his parents in wonder.  I knelt, opened my arms and hugged them.  I was immediately embarrassed.  I thought I had committed a faux pas that I should not have done that.  As usual my Bert came to my rescue as he said: ‘”Don’t mind her.  She is a hugger.”

 “That she is,” said Penny.

“So are we,” said Hector.  He and Mary were so gracious. They hugged back.

The moment passed. We moved to the Piano Bar.

The Meander:  I have often said that our travel experiences have been so varied that should I write them all out I would need to create a number of books.  One would be about the people we have met.  Sean was 6ft 4 inches tall.  His Mom was 3ft 8 inches and his dad 3ft 11 inches.   They taught us so much!

I will not forget the sight of Sean dancing with his Mum.

We were shipboard companions only and after that just ships that passed in the night.  It is often like that, but for a moment in time the stars aligned to hand us a remarkable travel story.