Underneath the black and white tiled linoleum in the kitchen are the original tiles.
We couldn’t rip them out because of the asbestos, so we just covered them over.
The ridiculously expensive lino almost immediately developed little holes
from my high heels, your bentwood chairs and, more recently, the stab of your walking stick.
Do you remember how I invited the manufacturer’s assistant out here to get a discount on that lino, how he told me to stop wearing heels, how I told him where to go? We got the discount on the basis of a faulty product and you were proud of me for fighting for this.
Underneath the canopy of your thick eyebrows (when did they get so thick?) your eyes only twinkle occasionally now and sometimes I can’t get even get your lips to move into a smile, no matter how hard I try with my jostling words, silly antics, tear-restrained hugs.
Underneath the muteness of your nursing home bed, I lie on a soft carpet of imagination in the hope that you will have a good night’s sleep in which you forget that I am not there with you. And, while I am on this soft carpet, I will try my hardest to erase your fear of losing me because that will never happen.
Underneath the ugliness of this disease, I see the beauty of who you are, and always have been – a big caterpillar, bypassing all of the butterflies, and becoming a vivid part of the sky.
ps. So glad our son, Ming, no longer reads my blog; he would vomit -ha! Actually, if I read this to Anthony, he probably would too, so I guess this is just for myself and the blog.
jmgoyder 
The teen-age Ming might puke – the grown man Ming will cherish this. And though Anthony may roll his eyes, his heart would unquestionably swell with love and pride. Isn’t it amazing when one recalls what lies underneath it all? Hugs, m
Feeling a bit mushy tonight!
Mushy is important too!!
Julie, your words touched my heart, the geniune love and caring. Such a sweet post. Thank you, take care, Bill
Thanks Bill.
Such beautiful words.
Mushy’s ok by me.
(Don’t worry – Ming will get mushy when he’s in love too).
He’ll probably be even more mushy than I am!
That was beautiful!
Thank you Rhonda.
When my Dad receded into the Alzheimers haze a new person emerged. I grew to love the helpless, scared person that once was my father. It is so touching to see how you have embraced this new scared, helpless man as your beloved husband. How you have grown to love the new Anthony too…Julie, you are an amazing person and you make the world a better place.
Thanks Tersia – you too!
I love the love that fills your pages, in all its forms, but this one tugs my heart in all the right places. beautiful jules…xoxo
I feel so lucky!
Ming will come to love your posts in the future… Of that I’m sure…
You reckon?
I think that it is beautiful and needed to be expressed, what do men know anyway? They would be lost without us, so when we need to spill our hearts and our souls, that is what needs to be done and we are the richer for it. Hugs Jules. 🙂
Haha – so funny the way Ming gets a bit grossed out if I show my love to Ants!
😀
Julie I love these words, the way they flow. What a beautiful poem. HUGS
Thanks Diana.
❤ I See everything mentioned here xx
I know you do Sis.
Oh, so strong, so beautiful. Underneath it all, you are one wonderful woman.
Thanks Susan.
brought a smile to my face and an “a-w-w-w…”
Ha!
Beautiful. 🙂
Thanks my friend.
Love this!
Thanks Paulette.
I won’t vomit, I think it is beautiful, a piece of your heart you bared
Thanks Terry.
A really touching post, Julie. The tears welled up and I just wanted to reach out and hug you. 🙂
I felt a bit teary too.
Made tears in my eyes… and a sad feeling in my heart. You go through so much emotionally… this path I’ve never traveled on… so, this time I don’t know how someone feels… but, I do recognize ‘pain, grief’. I can say I sincerely care. Love, Gloria
You are lovely, Gloria – thank you.
I have missed reading your words while I have been away. These are well worth reading.
Thanks Tom.
Yeah the males in your life may think it is sickly but I like it…………..
Haha!
Kirkcaldy in Fife was the world’s main centre for making linoleum and is now the only place in the UK which makes it today. A joke is that you know you have arrived in Kirkcaldy because you can smell the linoleum!
I didn’t even know linoleum had a smell!
My grandmother, who came from Fife (or the Kingdom of Fife to give it the correct title), said the town became well-known for the smell of linseed oil used in the production of linoleum.
This is a beautiful poem. It speaks from the heart.
beautiful, beautiful poem. I see you as Anthony’s butterfly. You two are different stage of the same self. Inseparable, but hopelessly out of sync.
A love song. Very beautiful, Julie. xo
Nice. You’re so good with the language of emotions. And I’m glad my family doesn’t read most of my stuff, too:)