It's time for another WEP/IWSG Challenge! This month the theme is Red Wheelbarrow.
My piece this month is short. It's also true. This theme hit me harder than expected since both of my parents are gone now. Still, it felt cathartic to write it.
Fragments of Childhood
Patches
of rust covered the red wheelbarrow, betraying its age and hinting at the
amount of use it had seen in those years. The wooden handles threatened to
leave you with splinters in your palms if you weren’t careful.
That
old wheelbarrow carried many things. It transported logs to and from the woodpile
in the backyard. It carried gardening tools and plants in the springtime. The
dirt dug into my knees and got under my fingernails as I helped my parents plant
peas, onions, tomatoes, and various other things. We pulled weeds. Then, when
we were finished, we piled the dirt-caked gardening tools back into the
wheelbarrow so they could be cleaned and put back into the garage.
I
can’t even begin to count all the things that wheelbarrow carried over the
years. I can recall my favorite thing, though. After the work was done, I’d beg
my dad to let me ride in the wheelbarrow. “Please!” I begged. “Just for a
little bit.”
My
dad almost always gave in and let me take a short ride around the yard. He
pushed the wheelbarrow while my mom watched me throw my arms up in the air. The
setting summer sun illuminated the grass, casting long shadows between the
trees. It all seemed so magical. Surreal.
That
rusty red wheelbarrow carried lots of things, all of them fragments of my
childhood.
It’s
long gone now.
Word Count: 235
FCA
