I wanted a different ending, but I understood, too, why that couldn't happen. A lovely book, focused on finding humanity in an ugly time and place.
His foot, bathed in my tears, was natural looking, no make-up, no frills, just memories held in my hands.
Those ... provide ... a framework for the author to create a wonderful tapestry of characters and events which had me alternately sighing in impatience, wiping tears away, and wondering.
Several months ago a stream of thoughts was going through my head, and I jotted down a few ideas. Today, I decided to capture them on paper (well, in this case, on the screen). I was thinking about the term, reach out, which I have heard recently in meetings at my new job. It is … Continue reading On Reaching Out
Fluttering, dancing clothes, hang on the line. Dresses weave and twirl, such rich jewel-toned gowns;
I was there the day he was born, and it was an amazing experience. He stole a piece of my heart that day, and I will always hold him there with love.
In the still of the night, when I am no longer keeping myself distracted with busyness, I find tears slipping, unbidden, down my cheeks in a never-ending flow of longing for Kelly. I yearn to rest my head in the hollow of his shoulder anchored in the security of his love. It’s the little things I miss the most.
My future is uncertain except for the fact that it contains my children, grandchildren, and writing. And for now, that is enough.