Why I luvs me some.... MsTrace

Lately I’ve written about a couple of RB features and whatnot, and then it occurred to me: I have forgotten to recognize the most important one of all.

But first, some background.

I lived in Southern California for six years. While I had many experiences and grew immeasurably as a person, in my opinion I gained only two lasting things while there:
1. My college degree, and
2. My kinship with Trace.

It began simply enough. I was living in a tiny apartment in a crazy neighborhood, working three jobs and going to school full-time. One day there was a knock at my door. It was the new chickadee from next door with the long blonde hair (yes, she was a stunning blonde in those days, now of course a stunning redhead). Something had happened and she needed a ride. I was really surprised, but what could I say? No? Not hardly. Of course I gave her a ride. And then… we weren’t just neighbors, we became friends. And then we were coworkers. And then over time she became my family. My daughter knows her as Auntie Trace even though I can count on one hand all the times they’ve seen each other in my baby’s lifetime. Doesn’t matter.

I was honored to be there when Trace first began seriously pursuing the art and craft of poetry. I am honored every time she makes time to visit with me, whether it’s online or in person. I am honored (and amused) every time we recommend a book to the other, only to learn the other has just finished it, or bought it, or is in the middle of it. I am honored every time she comments on my RB entries (and she’s often first, if not the only).

Now for the long-overdue recognitions: I was indescribably honored when she chose my photo of my husband and daughter as one of her two favorite pieces on RB. Understanding why she chose it only makes her gesture more special to me.

Further, I was honored, touched and, yes, intimidated when she wrote a recent journal entry about a couple of my writings. I am not the writer she is, but I am her friend. And so when I write about something meaningful to me, she feels it like perhaps no one else.

I realize, on the surface of our RB lives, it may not be obvious why Trace and I are friends. Recent events aside, my art tends to be fluffy bunnies and smarm; Trace’s is nothing short of primal. We don’t seem to have many groups, favorites or watchlist folks in common. Doesn’t matter.

Here is the thing: I am a person who easily misses people. Not like misses them when they’re gone, although I often do; I mean like misses them to start with. They go this way and I go that way; on the occasions we intersect, I seek to slip by unnoticed. It’s not that I really want to be that person; it’s just my very oldest habit, a survival mechanism. Should anyone actually find a way to connect with me, I often misplace them, as if they were car keys or used-up checkbooks. I forget to put myself in front of them, or to stop and notice when they are putting themselves in front of me.

The simplest way to summarize our relationship is, for whatever reason, Trace just never allowed me — allows me — to lose her. And for that, for her generosity and support, I will always try to give back to her, at least an equal measure of the gifts she has always given me. Thank you, my sister.

Journal Comments

  • mstrace
  • JTomblinson
  • bellmusker
  • JTomblinson
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