Da Da Da Daaa Da-Da Da-Da Da- Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!
I know you all recognise that as the theme from one of my favourite movies ever, Back to the Future, upon which this little blogfest is based.
It's being hosted by M. Pax, Suze at Subliminal Coffee and Nicki Elson's Not-So-Deep Toughts and if you want to check out what everyone else has posted head on over to these guys and have a little peek.
Here's what it's all about:
You’re up before dawn on a Saturday when the doorbell rings. You haven’t brewed your coffee so you wonder if you imagined the sound. Plonking the half-filled carafe in the sink, you go to the front door and cautiously swing it open. No one there. As you cast your eyes to the ground, you see a parcel addressed to you … from you.
You scoop it up and haul it inside, sensing something legitimate despite the extreme oddness of the situation. Carefully, you pry it open. Inside is a shoebox — sent from ten years in the future – and it’s filled with items you have sent yourself.
What’s in it?
This is my contribution to the hop, enjoy!
Until I have my coffee in the morning I walk around like a zombie, aimlessly knocking back and forth until the caffeine purges my system of grogginess and I can begin to function normally.
The coffee wasn't quite ready as I brought in the package left on my doorstep. Had I been more aware of the morning I would have noticed the lack of a postal van anywhere near the street, and wondered to myself at the oddity. It was still very early though so these particular details were easily missed.
Putting the package down on the coffee table I headed back into the kitchen to get my fresh morning coffee. The smell of it was already filling my senses, brushing away the cobwebs of disturbed sleep. I closed my eyes as I took the first sip, embracing the sensation as my head began to clear and my attention sharpened.
Glancing at the parcel as I sat on the sofa, I noticed for the first time how familiar the handwriting was. It looked like my own, but I certainly hadn't sent myself anything. There were no postmarks, and no stamps, and the enormity of these facts suddenly struck me; this parcel had been hand delivered to my house.
I opened the front door again, looking about to see any signs of anyone but knew that it was futile. Whoever had left it was now long gone. I sat down again with the package on my lap, an internal battle deciding whether or not to open it. I had no idea who or where it had come from, it could be anything.
I fumbled the tape as I tried to remove it, scrabbling at the lid to take it off. Inside there was simply a picture, set on a bed of white soft tissue paper. Sitting back deeper into the sofa I tried to comprehend what it might mean.
Tearing my gaze from the picture in the box, my eyes began to roam the living room. The infertility books I had been reading until 1 o'clock this morning were still laid out on the dining table, surrounded by notes I'd made, research I'd been doing. The post it note for todays appointment seemed to shout itself out at me from the pages. The circle around the date emphasised its importance, and it drew my eyes in. Not that I needed the note as a reminder, I'd had a fitful nights sleep just worrying about it.
I seemed to be the only one concerned though, my husband had slept like a baby. The irony of that thought made me chuckle.
The worry had been setting in for a little while, deep down, that maybe he didn't want this quite as much as I did. After all the years of trying, his heart simply wasn’t in it and I wondered how much of that was contributing to our failure.
But the appearance of this box had set my mind going, and something in my heart had fluttered for the smallest of moments. The picture in the box was of hope.
I picked it up now, holding it in my hands to feel its presence, to know that it was real and not a dream. My eyes were drawn to the two boys in the middle of the picture, their eyes and smiles beaming. They were so much alike they were undoubtedly twins, and they were so much like me I knew they were mine. Sitting in front of them was a birthday cake with a big blue number five on it, with candles burning ready to be extinguished.
I grabbed the box again to see the writing on the top. There was no doubt in my mind now, somehow I had found a way to send this to myself. Oddly though, the how and why didn't bother me at all, I just kept looking at the boys. My heart filled with so much joy, I knew now that my prayers would be answered, I'd have my own babies to cherish.
There was still a puzzle though from the picture. Looking at the person next to me in the photograph was presumably the father of my beautiful boys. The only problem was I had no idea who he was ...