Last part: ONE WRITERS LIFE

When we arrived home Laddie was waiting as usual with his black and white hair in need of a wash and carrying a toy for me to throw to him. Of course I did and that sent him flying through the air to fetch it. I went inside to find Isabelle crying and mum and dad sitting there expressionless, holding a letter. I took it from her and read it, it read. “Mr Bart Edmond you have been called by the AIF to join the war. You are to leave immediately”. That letter changed my life forever. The next day my beloved father left us. My mother would only talk when it was necessary. My always happy and cheerful sister was no longer happy. I, as a young four year old did not understand why they had taken my daddy away or when he was coming home. Our house became quiet and sad and this continued for two years. Then one fine sunny day a telegram came and that was the day I realized I would see my darling father again. My life from then on seemed to be a blur. Even though I was young it affected me with such force. Mum, Isabelle and I lived with grief in our hearts which none of us could let go of for years. It took me ten years to be able to really live life again and one very special person helped so much. I had gone for a walk one sunny afternoon. There was not a cloud in the sky and it was the most beautiful shade of blue. You could look out across the fields and see the mountains continue further and further into the distance. As I walked I noticed someone standing on the side of the road. As I got closer an easel and canvas came into view and I realized he was painting. He turned to face me and he was ever so handsome. He had dark brown curly hair with the most amazing dimples and dark crystal clear eyes that sent tingles down my spine. My eyes then wandered curiously to his painting. It was perfect, every shadow, colour and object had been captured realistically and beautifully. We had not spoken a word to each other since we met some minutes before. “Hi my name is Clara Jane, your painting is amazing”. I can remember saying after my speechless admiration for his painting. His name was Edward and he was 15. We started to talk, mainly about his painting. From that first meeting a great friendship was formed. We use to lie in the grass and talking about our futures and what we wanted to do. Edward wanted to become a doctor because he loved the idea of being able to save someone’s life. I had never really thought about it. I would be a mother to beautiful children. That is what was expected, but I wanted more than that, I wanted to make a difference in the world. Edward showed me how to live life again and I will never be able to thank him enough. As we grew older we became closer and closer. I found myself wanting to spend every waking moment with him. As I sat and wrote in my journal, I could hear the glorious sound of rain on the roof. I looked out the window and amidst the rain I see a familiar figure running towards the house. I ran and opened the door, Edward Smith was standing there, water running from his beautiful brown curly hair onto his handsome face. His eyes so clear looking into mine and my forever searching eyes had finally found what they were looking for. He bent down on one knee and my heart skipped a beat. “My gorgeous Clara Jane will you marry me?” He said with the softest voice. “Yes, nothing else would make me so happy as to marry you”. I can remember how happy I was that day and how happy he made me feel. We had a spring wedding two years later. With the sweet smell of flowers in the air and wearing my dream dress made out of soft white silk that flowed to the ground and yellow wild flowers in my hair. I walked down the isle looking into the eyes of one very smart looking man in a black and white suit, in front of all my friends and family. After that mum died and left the farm to us. Isabelle found a great man and was once again happy and cheerful. Edward became a doctor like he had always dreamed and we all lived happily ever after.

And as I sit here in the once lonely blue rocking chair looking out across my weeping willow farm writing of my life. I realize how truly lucky I am and I have finally realized that I was placed on this earth to share my life with others through writing. I am a writer.