Now I Begin,
Now I Begin,
I once sat in a crying room with my infant son, a mid sized room enclosed in glass with several rows of pews. Children ran about the room while abandoned coloring books strewn about were trampled. My daughter was six at the time and she sort of stared in disbelief and fidgeted a little Want More?
Tick Tock goes the clock. I am one of those people who is either late or early. Okay, I’ll own it. I am one of those people who is always late. With every tick and every tock time just seems to get away from me. A lot of it has to do with the fact Want More?
She and I, I and her. I remember when she was little and we were the best of friends. When her daddy was out fighting bad guys for months at a time, it was just us. She and I, I and her. Newly married and just graduated from college, I was away from everything I had Want More?
What happens to a dream deferred? Does it dry up Like a raisin in the sun? Or fester like a sore– And then run? Does it stink like rotten meat? Or crust and sugar over– like a syrupy sweet? Maybe it just sags like a heavy load. Or does it explode? Langston Hughes I first Want More?
7:00 am: I open my eyes and immediately awake to dim sunlight outside the window. My brain registers fairly quickly it must be after 6:30 am. Why is that important? It’s not Monday. It’s Sunday. I can sleep in a little while longer. Oh no! It’s Sunday! Not just any Sunday, but Easter Sunday! My serial tendency Want More?
Originally Published July 2015 A week ago, Sunday July 12th, I was inspired to sit and write Boys and Turtles. Although the events had happened some time ago they begged to be put down. A simple, and as my husband pointed out somewhat long post, that appeared to be about taking time to help others Want More?