Back in the Cupboard
Not Under the Stairs, But Still...
There's something about a small space
That always makes me feel secure
Nothing coming in or going out
Only room for me
That may be why I spent so much of my time
In a cupboard or a closet
When I was but a child
***
Harry Potter in his cupboard under the stairs
Didn't make me feel sad or sorry for him
He was in my favorite element
Safe and warm in a small space
I felt a little envious when I saw him there
Book or movie character though he may be
I coveted his cupboard
****
I missed my little space:
The basement cupboard that housed the furnace
And the water heater
And me
Hidden away for hours each day
Alone in my own little world
Reading books, writing stories
Creating little chapbooks
Filled with my own artwork
Creating hand-made greeting cards
Daydreaming about the world outside the closed door
Trying to figure out my place in it
But content to stay inside
Alone
Almost always alone
***
I ran away from home one day
And when I returned
No one had a clue that I'd been gone
That's the dark magic of the cupboard
I disappeared myself so well
I wasn't even missed when I really disappeared
Hard lesson learned
I forced myself out of the closet and into the world
I wasn't ready for it
It wasn't ready for me
I've regretted it
But I got out and lived in it anyway
More's the pity
***
The world is much too big
Did you know that?
And one day I just couldn't face it
I looked into my father's closet
I confronted the suits and ties, the jeans and shirts
The dress clothes and the casual clothes and the shoes
I slipped inside that small space
I went in there with all that is left of him
Things that have haunted me
Things that have taunted me:
"Do something with us! He's gone!"
I closed the door
I sat on the floor in the dark and wept
How I do miss my father!
***
But miraculously, I felt safe
I felt comfortable
I was comforted by the small space
And the smell of Dad that lingers
In all the small spaces of cupboards and closets
And the corners of dresser drawers
I put on his old, battered slippers
I came out of the closet
I wear them, though they're too big for me
I shuffle around in them
They comfort me when I'm alone
Out in the world, again
Surrounded by the too-big and the too-many and the too-much
Almost always alone
But I have his slippers
And I'll keep them forever
About the Creator
Paula Shablo
Daughter. Sister. Mother. Grandma. Author. Artist. Caregiver. Musician. Geek.
(Order fluctuates.)
Follow my blog at http://paulashablo.com
Follow my Author page at https://www.amazon.com/Paula-Shablo/e/B01H2HJBHQ
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Comments (6)
Wow... powerful imagery❤️ Thank you for sharing❤️
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I remember being comforted by small spaces as a child. I love the way you wrote about getting comfort throughout your life.
Can relate to small places. Hiding next to the freezer, in a small place, it is a big world. Slippers are comforting. A comfortable memory of your dad. 💖💕 Special memories loving my old gumby slippers.
Great take on the challenge! I really enjoyed reading!
Oh, I love this one! Great job!