Featured Work
ANGELA JENNINGS
Born in Geelong, Victoria to Italian parents Angela has had a life that could be best described as “interesting”. After running away from home to live in Melbourne she has worked in various fields including a debt collecting agency as well as the ever popular job as a bar maid.
Angela married young and consequently divorced but later met and married Jim with whom she had two children. This marriage had its times including some serious financial difficulties.
When life settled Angela was dealt another blow when her husband was killed at work. This began the start of yet another new life, on top of which saw her son was starting Year 12 and daughter starting Secondary School.
It was a very emotional and difficult time which saw Angela become an avid writer. She wrote about her feelings, wrote poetry and enrolling in a creative writing course, where she learned to develop her writing skills.
She has written a small book “God's Practical Joke (Getting Through Grief)” to be published and launched by the Creative Ministry Network, who provide support, assistance and counseling to individuals and families who are involved in workplace accidents and deaths.
Angela has been lucky to find love again with Darrell and now has an extended family. She now enjoys entering writing competitions and was thrilled with her very first win with her story Slipping Away.
Slipping Away won the “Cameo” section of the “Gemstones” Writing Competition and Be Published is proud to present it below.
SLIPPING AWAY
‘Mummy, Daddy, come and look! I think it’s gonna hatch!’
I held my husband's hand tightly forcing my lips to form a smile. ‘Darling that’s wonderful.’
‘Yes, and I'll be its mummy.'
I gently caressed the small bald head of my little girl. I held her hand and thought of my other two healthy children. I scream at God: Why do You want to take my Emily?
‘Nurse Jenny! Nurse Jenny! I think my baby pigeon will be born soon.'
‘Well hello there Mother Emily.’ The nurse gives us a smile.
‘I do believe I see signs of a pending birth. When Dr Chris visits later, I’ll ask him to check its heartbeat with his stethoscope. What do you think about that?’
‘Mummy, Daddy did you hear? The doctor will listen to my baby’s heart with his stefacope.’
‘That sounds terrific darling.’ I force a laugh at her mispronunciation.
Her eyes glow. ‘You know what? I’m gonna be a doctor when I grow up and make people all better. Hey, I could get a magic stefacope. Then I’d be the best doctor in the whole world!’
My mind played the scene from a day not long before I noticed how easily she tired and how pale she was. She came inside with a bird just fallen from its nest. Cradling it in cupped hands, she walked over to me carrying the creature as solemnly as a priest did with his offering at Mass. It didn’t live long.
I watched her tenderly place the tiny body in a tissue box, and followed her to the garden. She dug a hole in the dirt with her little gardening tools and buried the cardboard coffin.
‘There, all done.’ Her little hands patted the ground, ‘Do you think it’s in heaven right now? Will God let it fly straight in?’
She looked wide-eyed and hopeful, dirt smeared on her face, and I gazed at the masterpiece that was my daughter.
‘Come here sweetie.’
I held her in my arms and whispered, ‘I’m sure He will darling. You've done a wonderful job.’
I nuzzled her neck breathing in her special scent.
Arms tightly around me she whispered, ‘I love you Mummy.’
I blinked moistness from my eyes and playfully scolded, ‘Just look at those hands and knees young lady! Let's get you cleaned up.’
Her condition continues to deteriorate. She looks so small and fragile. This new environment has a too clean smell that nauseates me. The soft rhythmic beeping of machines gives me a headache. Swift efficient movements of doctors and nurses make me giddy. All the calm normality of the hospital magnifies the chaos and craziness that my life has become. I look at my husband in disbelief and desperately search for the right words. I find none.
Her bird-like body lies almost lost in the bed. She smiles, her eyes light up and manages to say, ‘Guess what? I just saw my brand new little baby!’
©2006 Angela Jennings