Profile of Someone

This is the first formal Non-fiction story I wrote in my creative writing class. I suppose it would be a sin not to share something that I love to do. Thomas S. Monson did say "Share your talents. Share your talents, for that which we willingly share, we keep." ...So here it goes.


Profile of Someone

Grasping the handle bars of the wheelchair, I break through the threshold to the
past.The surrounding prison walls contain history enscribed on tattered papers.
Photos of a lost lifetime entise me. Torn books stacked with a lonesome touch mark
the pattern of a once thorough being. No doubt this ghost was once a woman of
integrity and love. The arranged figurines on her abandoned desktop were simply a
reacuring pass-time. The hazard-free floors free of her feminine touch were bare as
her vacant eyes. The only reseblence of gentleness in her desolate solitude were the
donated floral curtains wrinkled as her face.

The light almost never shines through them anymore.

Her wool covered feet cross over eachother hiding her journey's impressions. One
pant leg pulled up as a result of her lack in care. Her shaking hands clench a baby
close to her bosom, her only key to remembrance. The resemblence of her and
her plastic child are too much to bare, for once you see her cadaverous face you know
her whole world is just that moment. Nothing but a dishoveled mind remains.
"Is there anything you would like to do before dinner?" My twelve hour shift
had added an overtaxed frequency to my voice. Her wistful eyes turned away
searching for the meaning of my phrase. No words had left her degenerative jaws for
as long as I had known her. A contracted pound to the worn surface of her desk was
her only communication. On occasion, her confusion gets the better of her emotions.
With a deep and necassery inhale I gather my patience and take out her photo album.
I am told it calms her agitation. Her confusion does not subside when she is introduced
to her family. She meets them for the first time. This remedy is not working. I take a
moment to regain my composure as I take a glance around her despairing room.
My eyes catch sight of a familiar symbol. A picture of a building tall and white. A
calming feeling overcomes me as I see means of connecting to this lonesome
woman. I ask her what this shrine means to her.
The curtains begin to exhale as a brilliant beam of luminosity echoed throughout
the room. Her face was a cadger of splendor which had no intent to repay the
radiance. As Life returned to her corpse eyes, one word escaped her rejuvenated
mouth..

Eternity.

The picture on the wall was the everlasting image of Forever with the single most
important thing this this life time. Family. It is where she was married for Time and
All Eternity to the love of her existence. I mirrored myself in this woman for it is where
I too wish to be married some day. This spirit that was alone for so long was now a
pair of wide open curtains that will forever shine with the knowlege that even though
she is parted from her beloved now, when this breif mortality is over, she has the
blessing of eternal happiness with her ceaseless love and the family she created.
I fervently pray in thanks for the opportunity to know and to be at fault for the rebirth
of a lost soul and the hindmost evolution of my own self. She taught me that even
though my family is seemingly in shambles, I too can have Eternity with the one
I choose and the family I create.