Happiness. It's relative.
Posted on January 6, 2016 by Jan Wilberg
Twenty-five years isn’t long enough, it seems, for Sis’s frozen heart to thaw, for her to let go of the ancient stones in her worn shoes and walk barefoot in the ocean’s sweet waves, holding the hands of grandchildren she’s never met.
Category: WritingTags: 42-word story

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What happens here on Red's Wrap is all over the map. There is no single theme, no overarching gripe, no malady of my own or others that dominates. I write about what seems important or interesting at the moment and what aims me toward hope. I write stories, essays, poems - whatever fits the day and the mood. Nothing stays the same, here or anywhere. That's a good thing. Happiness. It's relative.
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What a sad story.
So sad. I’ve never understood holding a grudge. They take way too much energy.
Pride gets in the way all too often. Your idea of presenting the grudges as stones in her shoes works very well!
“walk barefoot in the ocean’s sweet waves” is the perfect image for warmth to melt any icicle, which makes the stubbornness even more sad.
Oh, this is a cautionary tale, isn’t it?
That is so sad. It is too bad that she can’t let go. .