Saving Happiness

Friday Fictioneers

Copyright Claire Fuller

Casey handed the death certificate to the vault matron in exchange for the safety deposit key. Baffled, her father was not the type of man to have secrets, she allowed a few tears and sorted through his memories: two sets of dog tags, an unused train ticket to Denver dated June 4, 1943, a tiny gold wedding band and a photo of her father in dress blues smiling and embracing a beautiful stranger in an Army Nurse Corps uniform. Casey smiled at his happiness, glad that there was no one left to ask. She closed the box on his past and wondered if she ever really knew her father.

For more flash fiction @Friday Fictioneers drop by the library of Rochelle Wisoff-Fields here.

49 responses to “Saving Happiness

  1. Sometimes what’s left would read like a riddle.. this is like the beginning of a story digging into the secret family history.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Dear Tracey,

    It seems that your muse is back with bells on. ๐Ÿ˜‰ I found it ironic that the daughter was glad there was no one left to ask. If it were me I’d be burning with curiosity. I felt like I was right there going through the items in the box. Very well done.

    Shalom,

    Rochelle

    Liked by 1 person

  3. This is bitter-sweet – just like real life.
    Nicely told and the start of a longer piece?

    Liked by 1 person

  4. It’s a great start! If I ever disappear in mysterious circumstance and they look at my novel notes in my phone . . .

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Quite a moment for her. I loved “glad that there was no one left to ask” – she can allow her imagination to fill in a happy story start to finish.

    Liked by 1 person

  6. I agree with others here that this feels like an intriguing opening to something bigger.
    (But you’re right – these things don’t write themselves. I have a lot of ‘openings’…)

    Liked by 1 person

  7. This is excellent Tracey, a lot of emotion and mystery in this one!

    Liked by 1 person

  8. Do we ever really know anyone (including ourselves)?
    Good piece.

    Liked by 1 person

  9. I hadn’t thought of this picture suggesting safety deposit boxes, but that’s such a great idea – so many options with those. And I love this story. Sounds like her father might have had a marriage she didn’t know about.

    Liked by 1 person

  10. Dear Tracey,

    I have been thinking about how to tell my son about events similar to those in your well crafted story. Perhaps it is better to not ay anything. Oh, and, your muse? Back in style.

    Aloha,

    Doug

    Liked by 1 person

    • Mahalo Doug,
      My father started revealing his secrets in the last year of his life but we don’t always know when that will be. If it’s important for your son to know then tell him now. Only this moment is guaranteed.
      Glad to see you back at FF,
      Tracey

      Like

  11. My father’s a complete mystery to me. Not sure I need to know what he got up to in the 60’s!

    Rosey Pinkerton’s blog

    Liked by 1 person

  12. I’m proud to say I’ve hugged a lot of pretty women without it going any further than that. However, I loved the fact that there was opportunity to read more into your story. I can certainly relate to Casey. It was a hard day, with many tears, going through my mother’s stuff six months after her death.

    Liked by 1 person

  13. Oh, how beautifully told. I could see it all.

    Liked by 1 person

  14. Wonderful sense of discovery that there may have been more enjoyment in the life of a parent or loved one than we knew. Something I think most of us wish for.

    Liked by 1 person

  15. This is so beautiful, and true. Parents are parents, not people, until they aren’t there any more. I can very much relate, there was a lot I only learned after my father’s death. If you’re in a happy family, maybe it doesn’t matter so much. But if you’ve been fighting often and didn’t get along–learning about your parents’ life and things that shaped them can shed a completely different light on these conflicts. Sorry for being so long-winded. ๐Ÿ™‚

    Liked by 1 person

  16. As someone said, do we ever really know anybody? A lovely nostalgic piece Tracey.

    Liked by 1 person

  17. Even without any of these mysterious clues I found that there was so much i didn’t know about my father. I hope my blog helps my kids to know me better when I am gone.

    Liked by 1 person

  18. I would so want to have someone to ask! All those unanswered questions burning a hole Inside!

    Liked by 1 person

  19. I know the feeling of not wanting to know and letting things be and rest as they do in a photo. Sometimes, we don’t need to know everything. Nicely done, Tracey.

    Liked by 1 person

  20. I wonder how often this kind of thing happens. I think our parents are the people who we know the least, despite the fact that they are often the people who love us most, and know us best. Maybe that’s how it has to be. I love this story. I’ll be pondering this one for some time.

    Liked by 1 person

  21. It looks like her curiosity is being stifled by fear. Everyone ~ well most people, if you come from a somewhat normal family ~ want to think their family is perfect. The photo is showing her that perhaps it was not. WOW … I just made up my own interpretation. Sorry .. but that’s what it seemed like to me. I loved the way you wove something so powerful out of a very simple image.
    Your great … !!!
    Have a Great week …!!!
    Isadora

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s