Belleville, Ontario, Canada
Congratulations Daniella!
Daniella’s Bio:
Daniella attributes her love of writing to the moment a grade school teacher said "With an imagination like that you'd better start writing things down," So she did and thirty dusty notebooks later she still loves to write and she feels it is the one way she is most comfortable expressing herself. Daniella is inspired by the culture and natural beauty of her native Trinidad and Tobago and has had one of her children's articles published in Skipping Stones Magazine and another was honorably mentioned in another on-line contest a few years ago. Her biggest inspiration comes from her husband and two children, especially her autistic child, who has in recent years made her a much better person. She is currently working on a book on "the bright side" of autism, inspired by and dedicated to her husband and children.
Sea Breeze Revisited
It was our parents’ fortieth anniversary. After sixteen years, we were driving to Sea Breeze; the beach house we loved as kids, loathed as teenagers and missed desperately as adults.
“We must have driven this road fifty times,” Dad said.
“Longest two hours of my life when they were little,” Mom replied.
“Cause Monique had to pee every minute,” I said.
“Uh-uh!” protested Mo.
“See that bridge? We’d stop there,” said Natalie. “And in the corn field,”
Mo threw her hands up. “Had to go...”
The memory of our sister’s weak bladder sparked others that made us laugh. Like our chant to remind Dad how to open the door when the salt-laden winds stiffened the hinges.
“Latch to you, push to me …
Key turns right, then left …
Push one, two, three!” chanted Zola.
“Remember the bedroom race to claim the top bunks?” said Natalie.
“Zola and I’d cry because we’d always get the bottom,” said Mo.
“Until Angeli encountered Larry the lizard,” Dad said.
“Oh, he was cold and gross!” I quivered. “And had a stubby tail,”
“Nobody wanted the top then,” said Mom.
“What about Ralphie?” asked Zola.
Ralphie the caretaker never wore shoes. With hard, calloused feet, he’d painlessly kick aside a stone that held the gate shut. Amazed by this feat of feet, Zola would act it out saying,
“That foot was like a shoe!”
It still amazes her. Natalie, meanwhile, never got used to the bang of coconuts falling onto the galvanized roof. It startled her every time. Monique fondly recalled falling asleep to the shush of the waves and I remembered how tasty even the most basic of dishes were at Sea Breeze.
“Mom made the best sandwiches,” said Zola.
"They certainly were sand-wiches after you put your sandy hands on them,” quipped Natalie.
“You girls played all day at the beach then spent all my change at the corner store on candy,” said Dad.
“I remember rainy days,” said Mom. "We had a radio but no TV so we’d play games, draw, read or just sleep. Zola, Monique, remember sailing our little leaf boats in the drain?”
Our younger sisters nodded, wiping away sudden tears.
“It was our special thing, Mom,” said Zola.
We remained silent as we drove past the old pastel coloured shops lining the route. The air was filled with the aroma of Creole food with a hint of bougainvillea and a pinch of ocean. Passers-by waved cheerily on their way to market, balancing baskets on their heads and hips. And then we were there.
“The boys are here,” said Mom. Surprised, she pointed a trembling finger to our husbands and sons.
“Happy anniversary!” they shouted, stepping aside to reveal two men.
“Ralphie?” Stunned, Dad shook his hand.
“And son, sir, ” he replied. “Here’s your key,”
Our father was confused; our mother, tearful.
“It’s ours,” I said. “We bought it, so we could all enjoy it,”
“And to say thanks,” said Natalie. “Mom, Dad, welcome back to Sea Breeze.”
***