Author: Carebear3 PM
A notebook found brings back memories from the past that seems as if it were a lifetime ago.Rated: Fiction K - English - Romance - Chapters: 4 - Words: 5,128 - Reviews: 17 - Published: 09-28-01 - id: 418871
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Disclaimer: I don't own any of them except for my made-up people, Rachel and Caleb Alt. You already know who owns them, so I'm not going to take the time to tell you.
Author's notes: This is just something that came to me, so I started writing and didn't stop until I was finished. When you read it, you might think it's classified as a Harm/other story, but if you read it until the end, I promise you it's actually a Harm/Mac story. Please read and then tell me what you think of it.
There's a slight breeze out on the porch today, so I decided to sit out here to look at all my old possessions. I've found some wonderful things, not only from my childhood, but also from my career in the Navy.
It seems like such a long time ago that I was working at JAG, or fighting in the courtroom with Mac. It all brings back such wonderful memories. I found the two old boxes a while ago, when I moved into this home. I hadn't had time to go through them yet though. Not that I've been busy, but just worrying about her takes up all of my time.
I catch a glimpse of myself in a mirror that was in the first box. My skin is wrinkled, and I'm not as well built as I used to be, but I still have my hair, though it is gray and my smile and eyes remain just as well as they've always been.
The second box is open next to the first. I've replaced all the items gingerly so that I can look into the second box. The first item on top is an old notebook. I remember this notebook perfectly. I can remember the day I bought it, how much it cost, and what I bought it for. This is probably one of the only things that I can remember perfectly these days. A piece of advice, enjoy being young while you can.
I open the cover of the blue notebook. It's not a special type of notebook. Just a run of the mill ninety-nine cent notebook with one hundred pages. But what's inside the notebook is priceless.
The pages are filled to the end with words. Words written by me. This notebook is a piece of my past, the life I had and what I wanted. Behind me, there's a creak of the steps, and I know she's come out here as well.
I turn around to smile at her as she uses her cane to sit in the rocker next to me. She looks puzzled to see me, but then another smile crosses her beautiful face. Though worn with age, I can honestly say that it is just as beautiful as it was fifty years ago. She's silent as she glances at my notebook.
"What's that?" she asks me.
"It's a notebook that I bought when I was young. It contains a part of my life, a story about me," I tell her as I smile again.
She's got that puzzled look on her face again, and I know she doesn't have a clue as to what the story is about. I glance at her hands as she rocks back and forth. "Would you like me to tell you the story?" I ask.
"Of course. It's kind of long," I warn as I open to the first page of my notebook again. She nods, and I begin to read.