Presenting My Words

I suppose it was in late February when Mike Hunter asked me again if I wanted to share some of my writings with the literary event he was organizing in May. Mike organizes two literary events a year, in West Bay, and usually has 4 readers sharing their work. Some people are published authors, while others are just people who enjoy writing. I am the latter, someone who just plays with words. The evenings are always wonderful and often there is a musical entertainer as well. I have gone to all of them and come away wishing I had the nerve to get up and share my work. I leave the event feeling I could but usually within a day or so and certainly by the time the next events rolls around, I've lost the nerve. For whatever reason, I agreed this time. 

I had lots of prep time and couldn't wait to go through my poems and decide what I'd read. But the weeks flew by and about 10 days before the event I got serious and chose four to present. I really questioned myself as to why I said yes. I'm not a public speaker and putting myself in front of anymore than 2 or 3 people, and I'm out of my comfort zone. I'm not a presenter. I went to school before heritage fairs and science fairs were a thing. No way I could ever stand in front of people and speak. My speaking was done on the ball diamond, the soccer pitch, the basketball court and later on the hocky rink. Whatever was I thinking? So yes, there were nerves during the final few days but thankfully I was busy enough not to pay much attention to the nerves. I did practice reading them aloud and even had a small audience the weekend before the event. The audience was just family though, not quite the same as friends or strangers. 

I would be sharing the stage, (it wasn't really a stage, but there was a podium and a microphone) with Janet Burbidge, Jeff Townsend, Lewis MacKinnon and Jennifer Klotz (accordion player). I was looking forward to meeting Lewis MacKinnon. He is an aquaintance of my brother, Sandy, and Sandy has high praise for Lewis. Any friend of Sandy's is a good person. 

The big day arrived. I rushed home from work, quickly ate my supper and then read through my choices again and again. I arrived at the hall about 20 minutes beforehand. I had this strange feeling that although nervous, I was calm. I had asked to go first so I could enjoy the rest of the evening and was granted that request. Thank you Mike. I did not feel like mingling, as I didn't want anyone asking me if I was nervous, so just sat down and waited. A copule of people came over and gave me a hug and told me they were looking forward to hearing me share my writings. And then I turned and saw two friends coming in the hall from Creignish; Karen MacDonald and Tracy MacIsaac. WOW, I was moved to see them come out for me. I suddenly felt like everything would be fine. I have no idea why I felt this, but I did. It was just a very warm, comforting feeling. I met Tracy and Karen through playing hockey. We have a core group of friends from those days that have become close and to see them come out to support me was touching. Another friend, Monica MacKenzie was there as well. I read a poem about a friend who had passed that we all knew well. Knowing they were there to hear it meant so much. 

It was go time. I will share what I said to introduce each poem, and the poems, further on. There was a nice round of applause after each poem. I think I was a bit nervous at the start, but grew more comfortable as I moved along. When I finished I went back to my seat. A lady in front of me turned back and had tears rolling down her cheeks. The last poem was difficult to get through and immediately after seeing her tears, I know I choked up and my eyes became watery. At intermission I went to check out the offerings that were for sale; books, CD's and things. I was quite amazed at the number of people who came up to me and complimented me on not just my writings but on the presentation and that I had done so well. It wasn't just people I knew, but total strangers. I was overwhelmed. I'm not used to that at all. I really don't like attention but to have people relate to things I had written was powerful. I was blown away. Perhaps they were just being nice. But would complete strangers have approached me to say nice things 'just to be nice' or did they really relate and admire my stuff? It's not something I had ever expreienced before. Simply mind blowing.

I'm glad I did this. Yes, I was out of my comfort zone, but sometimes it is good to push ourselves. It's something I'm pleased I was able to do. Will I do it again? I'm not too sure. It might be a once in a lifetime event for me. And I met Lewis MacKinnon and he is every bit as nice as my brother said, and he speaks as highly of Sandy, as Sandy does of him. That made a great night even better. 

(I have inserted a few pictures that have no meaning but since the topics are on the darker side, I thought I'd include some pictures to lighten the mood.) 

Thanks Mike for the introduction and continuing to have these literary events. Thanks to everyone for coming out tonight. I am honored to share this event with Janet, Lewis, Jeff and Jennifer. 

He Didn't Know Her Name – In early March, several years ago, on my drive home from work on a Friday evening, I realized I only had one headlight. I debated all evening whether to go to Port Hawkesbury the following morning to have it replaced. I finally decided it could wait until Monday. When I woke up on Saturday I decided that I had to have it replaced immediately. I was planning to attend a concert in Boisdale that evening and thought it was best to be able to see as much as possible while driving on back roads. As I was getting ready to leave, my Mom asked me to pick up batteries as the time change was happening in a few weeks, and we MUST have batteries well in advance. I explained that we had weeks to get the batteries and I wanted to get in and back quickly. I put on a burgundy coat but once I went outdoors, I realized it was much too warm for the coat and replaced it with a navy vest. I went to town and managed to have my headlight replaced in a matter of minutes. It was still early, so I decided to go to Walmart and pick up the batteries. As I got out of my car, a genteman in a nearby vehicle also got out and started to approach me. I was a bit taken aback as he made his way directly towards me. He then said 'can you help me? My wife is gone. I saw her walking that way' as he pointed to the opposite end of the mall. I talked talked to him, trying to calm him down as he was very agitated. I asked him what her name was and he said Mildred. I asked what she was wearing and he hesitated and then reached out to my vest and said 'a coat in this colour'. I managed to get him to his vehicle and assured him I would look in Walmart as nothing else was open. I walked very aisle but saw no one that I thought might be his wife. As it was early there wern't many people in the store yet. I picked up the batteries but before leaving I checked once more. Finally I saw someone I thought might be her. This is a poem I wrote when I arrived back home. 

3 keys – I decided to go to town, I changed my burgundy coat to a navy vest and I decided to stop for the batteries. 

He Didn't Know Her Name

“Can you help me, please? I've lost my wife.

I saw her walking, she's my whole life. 

Bring her back, I'll wait right here.

She's wearing a black coat, I know she's there.

Her name is Mildred, I love her so

Why did she leave me? Where did she go?”

I strolled the aisles, no one to find

I searched and searched, she must be kind.

I saw a lady, in my view

But she wore a coat of navy blue.

This could be her, I have a task

“Is your name Mildred?”, I have to ask.

“No it's not”, her smile so warm

“My name is Jean”, she did inform.

I said “a husband has lost his wife

He's in the parking lot, she's his life.

Her face was stricken, I read the fear

"Is he in a red car? I parked so near."

I said he was, it might be him

She said his mind is growing dim.

She thanked me so and rushed outside.

I felt her pain, I could have cried.

Such a pity, no one to blame

How sad he didn't know her name.

I Remember – I have taken several writing workshops from Marjroie Simmins and for a couple of years I was a member of her online monthly writing group; Coast to Coast to Coast. One of her prompts was to write a story with “I remeber” as the first words. 

I Remember

I remember when penny candy was a penny

when chocolate bars were a dime

when a bottle of pop was a quarter.

I remember running barefoot all summer

swimming daily in the lake

jumping the wake on water skis.

I remember ashtrays everywhere

juke boxes on diner tables

checkered tablecloths.

I remember full sized spares

seatbelts never in use

a dimmer switch on the floor.

I remember black and white tv’s

crank telephones

single speed bicycles.

I remember softball tournaments

game winning hits

championships lost.

I remember yesterday’s supper

last week’s appointment

last month’s concert.

I remember good and bad

happy and sad

truth and fiction.

I remember family and friends

faces and names

births and deaths.

I remember.

I’m lucky.

Many can no longer.

Abe's Way – Another writing prompt from Marjorie Simmins was 'write about a man walking down the road carrying a birdcage and a suitcase'. I had no idea where this poem was going when I started, so I just let Abe take me on his walk.

Abe’s Way

As Abe began his journey

Along the lush and brilliant lane

He clutched a birdcage and a suitcase 

But he left behind his cane.

He shuffled along in slippers

His memories growing dim

His eyes were tired and teary

His dentures were not in.

He soon met a young lad running

With hair like Abe's so fair

A bat, with glove dangling from it

A ball he tossed in the air.

“Hey there boy. Where are you going?”

He called out to the lad

But he didn't hear the old man's voice

To the field he ran like mad.

Abe's memory started to come back

How he ran the bases four

As homer after home he hit

The ball he could make soar.

He carried on along the road

The road to who knows where

When to his delight he saw a man

A man he knew did care.

As the distance started to diminish

Abe saw the young man's dress

His uniform pressed so precise

With medals on his chest.

He carefully placed his belongings

Upon the lush and soft green grass 

Abe stood up tall and so erect

As he saluted with military class.

Much to Abe's surprise again

The serviceman marched on by

To fight the enemy and keep us safe

Until peace was restored on high.

He picked up his possessions

As he scuffed along the lane

Up the steep hill he did climb

His breathing causing strain.

And then he saw a beautiful lady

Someone he thought he knew

He called out 'Mary, there you are'

But she just walked on through.

Trailing her were four young children

A boy and three girls of blond

Just like his own so long ago

Before young Annie was gone.

This journey made him grow so tired

A bench he stopped to rest

He opened up his old valise

To see what he had left.

He pulled out an old ball glove

Tarnished medals and a beret

A family portrait torn and tattered

His family. Where are they?

He touched the face of little Annie

Her blond curls were so dear

A tear rolled down his weathered face

He knew his time was near.

A nurse came in his room at eight

His needs she would have tended

But he has passed away that night

His journey now had ended. 

She noticed one lone tear he shed

His cheek showed a faint stain

But a smile slight she could detect

He was no longer in pain.

They opened up his suitcase

“What's in it?” said the staff

And there they found his dentures

Abe gave them a final laugh.

He never liked to wear them

They never seemed to fit

He hid them daily on the crew

Always trying to outwit.

The empty bird cage is a mystery

Whatever could it mean

Underneath they found a letter

He wanted it to be seen.

Set your goals with enthusiasm

Live your life, be free

See and do all that you want

Soar high above the sea,

Don't cage your dreams and close the door

And not experience life's beauty

Go forth and spread your wings so wide

Abe says that is your duty.

The Beauty of Alayne – If we are lucky we are blessed to have very special people come into our lives. I was lucky when I met Alayne Martell. She became a great friend. Someone who was there for me when I needed a helping hand, or a kick in the butt. She was the absolute funniest person I ever met. Sadly Alayne lost her battle with leukemia in 2020, after a year long fight. I remember a truly amazing person with this poem, the Beauty of Alayne. This is a tough one. Hopefully I can get through it. 

The Beauty of Alayne

You are the puffy white clouds, on a bright and sunny day

You are the gentle warm breeze, and the sweet smell of mown hay

You are the brilliant rainbow, your colours seem to glow

You are the valleys lush and green, and the mountains topped with snow

You are the angel on the tree top, elegant in your beauty

You are the eagle in the pine, majestic while on duty

You are the beach, the sand, the rocks, and the white cap on a wave

You are the beacon in the dark, reaching out to save

You are the sunrise and sunset, the beginning and the end

You are the alpha and omega, a true and forever friend

You are a piece of red sea glass, rare and held so dear

I'll forever cherish our friendship, for you are always near

You are a special greeting card, tucked away in a drawer

“Thinking of you”, I often read, when my heart is oh so sore

You touched so many people, more than you could ever know

You are the wind upon our sails, to carry us as we grow

I'll carry on and focus upon, the air, the land, and the sea

You may be gone, but you live on, in the beauty that surrounds me. 

Thank you for reading. I love comments, so please leave one if you wish.

All photos taken by Hughena MacDougall.

All words by Hughena MacDougall.