Refrigerator Art- Cyndi

She stood and stared into the open fridge trying to decide what to eat, or even if she wanted to eat anything at all. She knew it was mealtime, but she just didn't feel that hungry, and with no one else in the house she thought it was kind of pointless to cook very much anymore. Slowly she shut the door part way until the light went out and she caught a glimpse of paper held up by magnets on the other side. She leaned against the door, shutting it all the way and relaxed her body- almost as if she were embracing the old appliance. There were more and more pieces of colored papers all over the fridge- wrinkled, tattered and faded from the passing of the years. She gave in and let herself wander down the path of times past, when the house bustled with the chatter of childrens voices. And it was not just her own that had filled the space that was now so empty around her. There had always been a parade of friends in and out, having meals and snacks, hanging out and adding to the general revelry that always seemed to be a part of their home. She tentatively reached out her hand to touch the worn pictures and recalled the preschool days of finger paints and learning the alphabet. Then came the grade school years with each kid in turn doing the same required art projects, only putting their own slant on it when it was their turn and making it uniquely theirs. Middle school brought academic awards and certificates and the poor fridge had overflowed as the papers gradually crept onto the side wall of the kitchen. They were taped in place, lower at first as far as the little arms could reach, and slowly the artwork climbed higher and higher as the kids grew. They had been reluctant to remove any, so the wall eventually became a gallery of sorts. Eventually some of the lower ones were taken down, as the dog they had begged for, started ripping into them.

Now the kids were grown and gone and there was nothing new from them to grace the sacred space. At first there had been postcards and a few letters, but now they only communicated by phone or email. You can't post that on the fridge! She sighed and opened the door again. Life moves on and so must she. She reached in and grabbed a plate of leftovers to warm in the microwave.

-Cyndi
January 16, 2010