Things I've Felt, Things I've Seen
The first snow of winter, sifting down as beautifully delicate as a gifting of grace. My son holding his daughter for the first time, tears streaming down his face. Chocolate cake warm from the oven (minus frosting), melting on my tongue. Discovering (as a teen) that my Vietnam Vet boyfriend had snuck a tangle of jewelry into my trench coat pocket while kissing me goodnight on my doorstep.
My grandson kissing me all the way up and down my arm. The utter black silence of night on a Tennessee mountain. Wind flapping open my hated polyester coat as I pedaled furiously home on my bike, after a classmate molested me behind an old building.
Chasing a gorgeous orange/yellow butterfly with my granddaughter and screaming with laughter. My father’s hands shaking as he confided in me about my brother’s abuse of him. My auntie laughing so hard at something I said that she peed a puddle on the floor. My first kiss at 15, while standing on a Portland street corner in a snow flurry.
A stab of relief at being denied a prison visit with a relative (because I was wearing a slit skirt.) The surreal yet undeniable brush of an angel’s wing (at once more substantial and softer than I would have imagined) as he flew by me on his way to a loved one’s side.
The look on my 11 year old’s freckled face when I informed him that the mousse he’d applied to his hair was actually mousse hair remover. The sickening feeling in the pit of my stomach when (at the age of 8) I discovered I was lost in the woods.
My son caressing his brother’s forehead, and kissing his cheek, as he lay in a coma after a motorcycle accident. My first hot flash. A teen aged son’s shy smile as he asked to borrow money to buy his new girlfriend a birthday gift. A tether ball stinging the palm of my hand. The scent of bread fresh from the oven. A bee sting on my tummy. A flash of horror as I realized I’d gotten into the wrong car in front of a pizzeria.
The glow of the moon. A baby’s first smile. The scent of fresh cut grass. Reading my published poetry. A surge of euphoria as I drove away, for the last time, from an abusive boyfriend. The scent of a rose. The comfort of tea. Friendship.
LoriSmaltz
I dont know that i can do what you just wrote, you are always, always, so brave and persistant, and very much assertive!! Love you Debra!!
LoriSmaltz
I mean that I could write what you just wrote.
Beautifuldreamer
Lori,
There was much I had to leave out or it would have gone on and on into boring drivel!
I always appreciate hearing from you, thanks.