The Walkeries

Today was another "notch in my rifle".
That phrase was invented by someone who made notches in their rifles when they killed someone but it also applies to the way some days stand out above others to remember forever.
And today I had to use Willy's walker to walk to the dining room because I felt unable to make the trip and I joined the group I call the Walkeries.


It reminds me of the same phrase used by a boy-friend I had "let go" when I was twenty-one. I met him again at the same dance I went to with my new companion who later became my first husband.
"Is he another notch in your rifle?" he asked as he came close to us, the electricity prickling and zig-zagging between the three of us.
I couldn't say anything because it was a moment of choices which could change my life. I had loved him with his cleverness and knowledge of books and music and he was above any man I had met because of the way he could pass that knowledge onto me. And his dancing took me to a fantasy land.
I knew he would ask me to dance later and I knew I wouldn't be able to refuse and I'd be caught up again with his bitterness about the war and his life in it. He hurt others and even me with his sword-like words.


As soon as I could, I took Ted out to the gardens and we stayed a long while, holding each other and kissing each other and all the time I was thinking and longing for the man I really wanted to be with
How different life would have been if I had chosen otherwise. I wouldn't have become a Canadian and I wouldn't have had my children.


signed not sorry for the choice I made Doris