With each swing of the mallet, I pound the spike deeper into the ground.

Anger, jealousy, envy, and hate fuels my swings but, I cannot stop pounding the spike more profoundly into the ground until my arm and shoulder begin to ache as tears and sweat streaming along my cheeks.

I hear the faint echo of voices rising above my delirious fog of emotions.

With a final blow, the mallet rests atop the covered spike, I’m exhausted, breathing heavy with tears and sweat dripping onto my hand and onto blades of grass next to my mallet.

I noticed indented marks on the grass around the spike revealing the imprinted marks of the mallet.

Suddenly, I feel hands on my shoulders, and a rub of my neck with a soft voice repeatedly saying. “It’s all-right daddy.”

The sound of a familiar voice overrides my mental haze punctuated with the word “Daddy.”

I open my eyes, turn face to recognize my daughters, ages 9, 12 and 14-year old twins with tears in their eyes.

The twins were rubbing my shoulders, my 12-year-old began hugging me, while my youngest used a towel to wipe the sweat and tears from my face, when she softly says.

Mommy is here with us, Daddy.

I thought to myself, this was our annual family camping trip to the beach, and our first without their mother, the love of my life and I realized, I was a widow, but never alone.

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By Expedition Nomadic Adventurer

As a retiree travel blogger touring the US, voicing my wisdom, opinion, and thoughts about the retirement lifestyle and life in general. I'm an aspiring pre-published indie author of baby boomer romance and adventures with a whimsical comedic side. I photograph wildlife and landscapes, mountain, biking, kayaking, hiking, and backpacking. I travel the back roads and highways of America, Canada, and Mexico, documenting my adventures via print and photography.

5 thoughts on ““Rubber Mallet.” ( short story)”
  1. This is touching.

  2. It is hard to comment on this. It stopped me fro a moment to make me realize… Yes, grief is real. And so is forever love and the power it has.

    1. So, right Windkisses, it is the power of both grief and love sustaining memories forever. 🙂

  3. Hey, thanks, Leslie. 🙂

  4. so sorry for your loss.

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