frozen coke
family matters
sack swing
hugs
at 822 Pine Avenue
late nights
pillow forts
peach cobbler dessert
at 822 Pine Avenue
headstands and trampolines
laughs
a front porch swing
at 822 Pine Avenue
wives tales & mud pies
at 822 Pine Avenue
pecan tree
bench beneath
singing in her sleep
at 822 Pine Avenue
bird fountain and basketball net
a ball needing air
popsicle stains on shirts
at 822 Pine Avenue
mining for rocks down the alley
papa's roof was dirty
at 822 Pine Avenue
birthday parties
coconut pies
drawing pictures in the front room
at 822 Pine Avenue
Geraldine stories
flash light animals
sleepovers with the twin beds pushed together
at 822 Pine Avenue
talking in her sleep
frying me bacon to eat
Sunday afternoon lunches
At 822 Pine Avenue
1 husband
3 kids
7 grandchildren
13 great grandchildren
at 822 Pine Avenue
i'm not sure how it works for normal people.
but i know how it worked for me.
it was june.
i was 21.
i got a call.
only a few months they said.
but i didnt understand, he's only 5.
how could this be.
how could god take something so new and special to me.
a few months ended up being 3.
he was buried in a kid-sized grave.
a family broken a part and a boy to never come of age.
before this loss i always thought there was a point.
a plan.
god must have things under control right?
but this made me think.
how could this little one suffer a short life and painful death of there was a loving god?
didnt seem loving to me.
didnt seem like it was real anymore.
didnt seem like there was a purpose anymore.
i dont think i comprehended death fully until that moment.
when i saw that little body lowered into the ground and realized it would never become big.
does it all just really stop.
is there no purpose?
Is it bad how good you make me feel?
Is it odd to feel this normal?
Is it dangerous how safe I am in your arms?
Is it bad I'm falling in love with you?
Because if so I'm bad.
And I know we won't be forever and we might not even be for long. And maybe you're not the one but your one. And maybe we don't match but neither do my socks or the plates in the kitchen. And maybe the end will be messy but so is my car and life. So why shouldn't we just enjoy it along the way?
Doubt
So easy to say.
So hard to get past.
I've always had a little bit of it reflected inwardly because I've never been able to attain the appearance I wanted. I've never been quite thin enough. My hair has never been quite long enough. My skin never quite clear enough. And because of this its caused me to doubt other areas. If I can't get in peak physical shape, what makes me think I can become financially independent? Get a good job? Start my own business? If I can't control something as simple as a complexion, hair follicle or calorie, how do I think I can take on the outside world?
It's the doubt that eats you.
It's the doubt that tucks you into your grave with the could haves because you cancelled yourself out.
You're problem is not in your thighs or uneven eyebrows. Your problem is you think they're your problem.
Stop taking yourself out.
You are worthy.
You are so. worth. loving.
She always had a way of standing above her circumstances.
Even in the way she dressed, it was like she was going somewhere better later. Yet above her logic and even above her poise she held within her a jar of emotion locked inside for the one worthy. The jar was hidden and no one knew just all that hid underneath the soles of her Jimmy Choo's. And my God she was brilliant, and my God she could make it on her own; but she didn't want to.