Last spring–just seven months ago–I had made a list. Not your traditional to-do list, with its pay the electrical bill, buy cream of tartar, replace the light in the dining room. This list was a big one, full of huge unknowns as we prepared to make a cross-country move that summer. I didn’t know the answers and I didn’t know how we’d find them. The anxiety consumed me.
And yet at the same time, as I packed away our sweaters in anticipation of milder temperatures, I realized that I also needed to pack away my worries. For whether I fretted or not, all those pressing questions and fears for the future would be resolved by the time the weather turned cold again. In just seven short months, I would know the answers.
That was late March.
Now it’s November. Continue reading
My heart is full as I make my way into the Maiden’s bedroom tonight. Over the past few weeks there have been countless articles suggesting that parents aren’t communicating with their kids anymore. What about us? Does she know I love her?
I enter her bedroom, where the evening light casts shadows on the pink walls she so craved. She glances up from her book.
“I love you just the way you are, baby,” I tell her. I look into her big, beautiful eyes and stroke her hair. She gazes back and for a full moment pauses. Maybe I’m getting through to her. Maybe this is the moment. I wait for the revelation, the smile, the sweetness of understanding. Continue reading
Once upon a time, a little girl wanted to be a beautiful ballerina. She twinkled. She twirled. She dreamed of fluffy tutus and wrapped shoes and feet all en pointe.
This story could be about the Maiden, but it isn’t.
Because that little girl lived in the mid-1980s. In a small town where there was no dance studio, in a town where ballerina dreams fluttered only across the starlit pillows of little girls deep in dreamland. Real life was gymnastics, and softball, and writing, and literature, and publishing. And with time the dream faded away, deep into the yellowing pages of memory.
Faded, but not forgotten. Continue reading