It’s July 4th, hot and sticky. You’re late, due date was last week. Morning, I walked laps in an air conditioned store encouraging you to move. Come dinnertime, you announce your arrival, and three blocks later, leap into the world.
Sometimes, it’s others’ words that take you back. A taste, the rain, a moment past. Not much for looking back, I fear. Too many souls to miss.
This space I’m in, precarious and still, reflecting brightness in the storm.
He reminded me we had had that exact conversation twelve months earlier. Somehow, I had gotten myself so tangled up, I no longer felt the passing of time, as it came rushing by me. And here, I found myself, unraveled.
My children’s circadian rhythms are baffling. Most days, they are up with the sun, rearing to go. Every night, they fight sleep ferociously. Yet once in a while, there are surprising mornings of an overwhelmingly deep and uninterruptable sleep… always Mondays.
Even behind the soft haze of mist, the lake spreads out in front of her, full of possibilities. Expanding across the horizon, its beauty seeps through her cracked heart, like Leonard Cohen said, letting bits of light shine in.
It started simply enough, with a post on facebook, linked to this article, and the voices of women writers describing the day their life changed in 40 words. I thought I’d give it a shot. Not thinking too much, minimal editing, to revel in the economy. Prompted by a friend, we decided that once was not enough, so here it is:
40 words, once a day, 40 days. Won’t you join us? Add your 40 words in the comments.
