She is four years old and utterly, heartbreakingly lovely. With beautiful, shoulder-length, curly, auburn hair and a sweet, round little head that closely mirrors that of her Mom and her Grandma, she always makes me want to gather her up and hold her forever. It has been so very long since I held my own little ones and sometimes, my arms – and my heart – ache with the recollection of my own babies’ sleepy, heavy warmth. Continue reading “Little Girl”
I vividly recall my first encounter with symbolism. I was in grade one, and my teacher read the class a poem about trees, ‘wearing dresses of white and dancing gracefully in the wind”. It had just snowed that day, and as I walked home after school, Continue reading “A Lesson on Symbolism and Love”
My grandmother was a devout and obedient French Catholic. Being extremely poor and little educated, my grandparents never made decisions the church might disapprove of without Continue reading “Grammy’s Rose Bush”
My husband and I went to church yesterday.
Nothing out of the ordinary about that. We got there a bit late and Continue reading “Just Another Ordinary Day”
She stood on the stool with the noose around her neck and wondered why it was so difficult to let go, now that she was here. Continue reading “Not Today (Hold On)”
My daughter isn’t in any hurry to have a ‘real’ job. She’s not in a hurry to join the workforce; to make a name for herself; to carve out a niche in the world. To be a grownup. Continue reading “My Daughter Isn’t Ready to be a Grown-Up”
He is a dyed-in-the-wool conservative with staunch fundamental Baptist values. Continue reading “Why Can’t We Be Friends?”
