An ordinary day


An ordinary day

Just an ordinary day, woke up late and hurried away

To a meeting in London, Spitalfields way

With a PR agency, gay and busy

On the way back, went into St. Botolph without Bishopsgate,

To pray and be still

The sun was warm but not too demanding as I went into the bank to pay a bill,

The cashier, terribly charming ‘where are you taking me for lunch?’, she would say,

‘The money’s for the builder, I replied, so McDonald’s today!’

Slowing my pace and enjoying the minutes, stopped by an alleyway and stepped into it

St. Ethelburga’s church and the bedouin tent was where the next ten minutes I spent

The book of condolences for recent dead, made me sad and sorrowful and heavy of head

The kitchen was homely, baklava on a plate and the atmosphere hummed,

Like someone had just popped out to get milk

The presence of people and kindness and good, poured into my soul as I watched and stood

The train journey back was packed and a battle of wills

And the office was buzzing with ideas to fulfil

Home was quiet and dinner too but the tempo of the day was building again,

My mother and son spent a day out of reach, Port Meirion, Wales right on the beach

She texted at five with reports and updates, but since seven no contact, so I just had to wait

At eight thirty I called and she hung up the ‘phone and the sinister message left me cold to the bone

The number you’ve dialled is incorrect, try again

At this point my heart was jumping out of my head

I called a friend to see what was going on, and waited an hour by the ‘phone which didn’t ring

I paced up and down and my mind played cruel tricks as I imagined scenarios that couldn’t be fixed

Text message one is from lover unknown

Text message two is from love still growing

Text message three is from lodger-to-be

But none of the text is from mother to me!

At ten o’ clock going out of my mind, my daughter says just try the home line

I do and she answers and chastises ME, for PANICING,

How can that be!! Everyone’s fine, just tired and exhausted; I listen in two-d, as my heart rate adjust-es,

The end of the call, means a re-start to life, as I return my messages, breathe and feel nice

An ordinary day, in the life of just me, is ending with happiness, safety.

© Suzy Rigg

August 2009

Just in case you want to look at the places mentioned:

http://stethelburgas.org/

http://www.portmeirion-village.com/

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/St_Botolph-without-Bishopsgate

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