If I ignore the mechanical trills made by the five-o’clock traffic, I can concentrate on the shadows from the bridge. Each year at this time, the shadows lay firm to the hillside and stir pleasant memories. #grateful
via Trill
I’m back in the sixties
They called me ‘Peacenik’
The stars were alive
and the smoke, it was thick!
A sunny spring day and all the kids were across the street playing. I decided to take Buffy outside with me without a leash, something I never did – not even as a ten-year-old.
We went across the street to the Mandy’s to play with the other neighborhood kids. Buffy was so happy to be the center of attention. But she didn’t know the limits like we did.
I saw her run towards the street. I saw a car going to fast coming down the street. I yelled for her to come back but she didn’t. She ran in front of a parked car. The speeding Mr. Jolly didn’t have the chance to see her.
I heard the thudding sound under the car. I heard the screech of the tires. I heard the screaming inside my head and the bursting of my heart.
Me, the one who treated even my stuffed animals with care and tenderness. And I would have to live with this new feeling of intense guilt.
I know. Not such a “jolly” memory for today’s prompt. Nevertheless, a true story that changed my life. Life is full of lessons tethered to both good and bad memories. Over the years, I have loved many dogs and I do my very best to keep them out of harm’s way.
via Jolly
The wonderful thing about writing down memories is keeping them. Because later, like me, you will find those written words.
I wrote this 26 years ago when my son was two years old:
As grown-ups, we have learned much about life. But we learn much more by watching children experience and discover the world anew. I am about to be the grandmother of my fourth grandchild. I have much yet to learn.
Childhood and it’s atmospheric beauty!
(my daughter’s first child — my second grandchild)
I am forever grateful.
via Atmospheric
No longer can I fill these shoes.
Yet I remember a time
when the patent leather formed neatly around my feet
soft, worn, comfortable
Soles carefree and made of ease
durable for playing chase and hide and seek
or freeze tag in the dark
the lining soft enough for catching fireflies
and my parents goodnight kisses
The tips firm, protecting toes that so easily stumbled.
The heels perfectly made for scuffling
for dragging my feet when it suited
Shoes, easy to pull off for bedtime stories
and tuck-me-in time.
No longer do they fit, those shoes
Yet, it matters not.
I have merely grown into a larger size
the soul intact.
art by C. Dennis-Willingham
Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens
hundreds to choose from in worlds that were written
years ago back when this sketch was created
these were the titles I most celebrated
When the night comes
when the day hums
when I reminisce
I simply remember my favorite books
the ones I could not resist
We didn’t know it at the time. It wasn’t planned. But it happened.
On the walk home from our second grade class, my best friend, Vanita, and I took a wee bit of a detour. We walked down the creek bed and into the drainage tunnel. After an immediate right, we discovered a new way of looking at things.
The sight (and site) was pure magic! Whoever thought to build this foxhole was a pure genius!
From inside the gutter, at ants view, car tires whizzed past, feet with voices attached walked above us. Yes, we would be late coming home from school. But the newness, the discovery, the giggles, made it worthwhile.
I’m not sure how much time passed before we saw the car pull in front of us. We recognized the shoes. We definitely recognized the angry voice.
Can you imagine this mother’s horror at seeing our heads in the gutter?
A silent car ride later, Vanita’s mother pulled into my driveway, spoke a few words to my mother, and drove away with my best friend in tow.
Over fifty years later, this brief moment in my life still makes me smile. The world, I’d learned, was not mundane after all. It was filled with shared bonds no one could ever take away and discoveries waiting to be found.
As the world turned, the small heads of two young girls were filled with a new perspective on life.
Vanita and me – obviously photoshopped. Her mother wasn’t packing a Polaroid at the time.
Daily Word prompt: Genius
When she told me NOT to throw away the moldy orange, I questioned her sanity.
Why in the world would we want to keep this tainted fruit within arms reach of four-year-old children? And why would I, the 24 year-old teacher with a degree in Early Childhood, listen to my 56 year-old assistant teacher with no formal education?
“Because,” she’d said, “It is a learning experience, a teachable moment. It’s science.”
I was awestruck.
That is why “Vivian” and I worked so well together. I taught her how to implement bias-free education in our classroom. She taught me that hoarding can lead to serendipitous learning and creativity.
Today, over 20 years later and still a hoarder, I was reminded of my friend, Vivian, when I cleaned out the trunk of my car. Behind the boxing bag, a ton of smelly hand wraps, and a couple of sweaters, I found something which must have fallen out of my grocery bag months ago.
I’ll give you a hint. They used to be grapes. But now …
I hear Vivian’s voice in my head saying, “Don’t throw it away! Show your grandchildren.”
And so, I will.
Wherever you are today, Vivian, THANK YOU for one of many teachable moments!
photo credit
Twas’ too soon for me to go
an empty vessel still in tow
the darkness loomed, but glowed, that room
the crowd all dapper-dressed.
The iron box of elevation
took us to that destination
the couple smiles, no hesitation
“Congrats on baby quest.”
“Guess it’s not to be,” repeated
words I’d learn, still felt defeated
empty arms I had conceded
A promised heart betrayed of grants
Glasses clinking, lighting winking
champagne fountains made for drinking
my soul betrayed continued sinking
yet how the people danced.
Oh, how those people danced.
photo credit
Carolyn Dennis-Willingham 