A Very Ugly Part of Me
I hardly ever cry. I do have occasional leakage from my lower lids.Just a few drips that spill slowly over the rim’s ridge that I can stall with careful breathing, a flurry of activity and panic hormones. My eyes and tear ducts work. A particularly tender song lyric, a big screen movie image or a
beautifully written story can provoke my terrific appreciation even awe but no more than tiny precipitates from the last wisp of rain. I lack the cleansing rainfall of tears. Continue reading
A Letter to Someone Dear
I was just thinking of you. I bet you were thinking of me too. So often we shared that knowing, desire, and intuition that caused the phone to ring allowing us to hear each others voices. It’s been a long time since we’ve talked and with Thanksgiving approaching and as the branches of trees grow bare you seem today more near.
I remember with affection, you directing us girls in the art of Hank’s perfect pie-making. What a fun day! All of us crowded in the kitchen, towels, flour, stories swirled amid the laughter while we dutifully forked and cut Crisco into flour trying to achieve the perfect crusts. Tethered to the oxygen but soaring in higher spirits than we’d seen in weeks, you were engaged and in command. We rejoiced and you seemed proud.
Little did any of us really know that this would be the last Thanksgiving we’d share before becoming orphans. You could still breathlessly tell the greatest stories. Your lovely blue eyes and kind heart, despite the great loneliness for dad, were such a gift to us. We speak of it still and will again this year.
My friend is a widow, a person of decorum and dignity. She’s not a prude, unworldly or naïve. She simply needed a flannel shirt to complete her Halloween costume. Parking near the store entrance at the busy mall, she lingered to make a quick phone before leaving the car. Chatting away she noticed a nice looking man walking toward her. He stopped a short distance from the car’s front. He unzips his fly and proceeds to urinate in broad daylight. Continue reading