Bombarded
Who is to say what will wear down a man?
Bringing my mother into our home? No one wanted to see her in a nursing home, so she lived with me for more than two years. It certainly wore down something. My divorce is proof of that, though, in truth, it had been a long time coming.
Once my mother did go into a nursing home it was only three months before she was gone. But that wasn’t the end of it. Even as my mother’s health was failing, my sister was fighting a losing battle with cancer. Here it is a year later, and my sister is gone.
Would all of this be enough to wear down a man? How does anyone recover from three major hits in that short of a span? I need to know. I am bombarded yet I stand.
This is my response to Prosery: Bombarded, the prompt from Merril at dVerse Poets Pub. With Prosery, the challenge is to write a piece of flash fiction with a 144-word limit (here, exactly 144 words). Included in the bit of prose is to be a complete line from a poem. For this prompt, the line to be included is from “Planetarium,” by Adrienne Rich.
“I am bombarded yet I stand”
– Adrienne Rich
rivrvlogr 
Nothing endures. Some of us survive longer than others. My dad used to say, “You either die young or grow old.”
Fortunately, love is growing in many places. New babies, or old faces remembering something.
I was very lucky with my mom – she could almost take care of herself up until her last day.
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And even then she had you and your love, Daniel.
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Wow, powerful piece, Ken! And perhaps even more moving because it is so concise. I love that you ended with the quoted line – so affirming!
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Thank you, Lynn.
We may learn from our past, but it doesn’t make it any easier. Forward is the one true direction.
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Yes!
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Expertly crafted. 144 is a fascinating number – must be interesting to edit an initial draft into exactly 144 words. Guessing many of us have stood at some point feeling bombarded by life events piling up.
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Thank you.
Yes, trying for exactly 144 tends to sharpen my focus.
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Nicely done, Ken. I also like the prompt line as your final line. I suppose many get bombarded that way, and then either get trampled down or find themselves stronger.
I think my mom might have lived longer if Covid hadn’t hit.
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Thank you, Merril.
I know that addressing “what-ifs” is futile, but they occur to me all the time. Then I remind myself that I am where I am. Change one thing, and everything would change.
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I don’t know that addressing what-ifs is necessarily futile–as you say, they can lead to changing something or things.
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As you say, we have no choice but to go forward, with the scars to remind us. Sometimes it seems like too much, and yet we persevere. (K)
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We do, and we learn our lessons. Thank you, Kerfe.
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Well done. It all happens. It sucks. And then…
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