LASTING IMPRESSIONS

There was a time when it would take her an hour to get presentable for grocery shopping, but she has now reached the age of comfortable. Her hair is clean, her clothes are unfashionable, her shoes are ugly, and she wears little or no make-up.

Now it is your turn.

Grace Martin ran the brush through her greying hair, her one concession to vanity before presenting herself to the world these days. Grocery shopping used to be the highlight of her week when the children were home. Each week she would take just one of her four children with her and after shopping, would treat the lucky shopping assistant to lunch at a restaurant. Grace believed that each child needed some "alone" time with mum. No way were her kids going to grow up thinking they didn't matter; that they were to be seen and not heard. No. She had encouraged their chatter and had looked forward to the day when each was grown. Grace had done everything she could so that her family would remain close and loving. When grown, they would continue to confide in her and she could give them the benefit of her own experience. They would be friends, not just her children. They would do things together and all her sacrifice would be rewarded with wonderful family gatherings.

Grace carefully locked the front door and got into her old green car. Shopping was a chore now and today she would, as usual, just pick up enough for her supper. Maybe she would treat herself to a coffee and browse through the new bookstore after.

As she pulled out into the street, she felt an emptyness inside. The only one of her children that was good about keeping in touch was Gail. She had received a frantic call from her just this morning. Gail's life was a series of disasters and it was getting so Grace hated to hear the phone ring. She dreaded hearing Gail's voice on the line.

So much for encouraging confidences. The others were too busy with their own lives to call and nothing in Grace's experience even remotely resembled the problems of the young people today. Gail seemed to go from one extreme to the other. Now this. Grace wanted to get on the freeway and just drive and never come home. Then she could forget about how she'd wasted her life on four ungrateful children. She could start over someplace where no one knew she was a failure as a mother. She could have a life! ....... [by foxgloves]

Thanks, foxgloves. What a delightful direction you sent the story.

Grace entered the grocery store, swung the cart around, and headed down the first aisle. As she passed the cosmetics counter, she stopped, and stared wistfully in the mirror at the image of herself. What had happened? She touched the grey peeking through her once beautiful brunette tresses and couldn’t remember why she had stopped going to the hairdresser. Not that she was ever beauty-pageant material, but, she used to receive many compliments on her beautiful hair. Oh well, who cared anyway. Bill was gone, dead four years now. And her children... she wasn’t going to think about them again........ [by coralreef]

Very interesting, indeed. Thanks coralreef.

She must hurry. Gail was expecting her to drop by after supper. Did she need money? Was it her newest boyfriend? Or did she want to borrow her car for just an hour to pick up "just the right outfit"? It was always a life or death situation ..... [by favorman]

Great paragraph. Thanks favorman.

The box of haircolor sat before her. She lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. Who was it said "Beauty is only skin deep?" She felt ugly all the way to the bone. But did she really care? She reached for the box and opened it. She hummed as she waited for the color to cover her grey and surveyed her face carefully. The makeup she used to use was only an arm's length away. This was a tricky moment. "Go for it, Grace. Do something about that face," she told herself.

An hour later, Grace surveyed herself in the mirror, her hair colored, her face carefully made-up. She didn't realize that she could be pretty until that very moment. Maybe it was that "age thing" that kept her from admitting she was so unattractive. Comfortable was good, but... God! Gail. She had to go. She could work on her wardrobe later. [by kabols]

Thanks kabols. This is not at all how I had pictured the story.

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