My God Kept His Scars

Lately my self image has been really really bad. After certain comments my doctor made to me my last visit I’ve been trying to lose about 10 pounds of weight…and I’ve managed to gain five since then. This has caused … Continue reading

Confessions: I Suck at Beauty Routines

I’m not a morning person. Nor am I much of a night owl. So morning and evening routines are not something I’m very strong in. I know, that probably sounds really strange to say in an era where “self care” … Continue reading

Fallen Tree

Days passed. As they did, the demise of the felled tree in the neighboring house’s back yard became more and more apparent. The leaves turned a triumphant gold before withering to brown and wilting to the ground. The remnants of crab apples clung to the dead and dying branches, their last chance at life, withering hopelessly as they clung.

Our neighbor had died some months ago, and while the yard was still being kept, nothing was done to remove the old fallen crab apple tree from the yard for several weeks. I inspected the thing the day after it fell. During a storm, the night before, the winds had howled ominously and the rain beat the ground hard, as if the earth its self had committed some kind of terrible crime they sky could not, and would not forgive. It was no punishment for the ground, despite the violence, because the ground took in the water, practically dying of thirst from the many dry and hot days that came before the storm’s relief.

I contemplated the dying tree as I sat with a large cup of tea in one hand, and my feet planted firmly on the freshly cut grass. How long until all things fall and die? How long did that tree stand for before it’s unexpected demise? How long had the old widow next door (who I can say I never saw nor met) lived in that house and for how long alone? I could not and cannot say. We saw the ambulance take her away, and heard from another neighbor she had passed.

She was as much a mystery to me as her death. No. As death itself.

Until After the Wedding

Every word she spoke increased my sorrow, and made me realize just how bad my parents relationship had become. Not that I didn’t suspect it at some point to happen. When I was a teenager I noticed that my parents … Continue reading

Beach Bummer

My husband didn’t come on this Sunday evening car ride. He had to work. So when my parents stopped in, I felt free to accompany them to the beach to just sit and watch the water move. “We need you … Continue reading

Hospitals

I never really enjoy going around them, even if it’s for minor checkups. There’s just too many things wrong with them. Waiting room seating is uncomfortable. The furniture and floors everywhere are ugly. The television programs are really boring. The … Continue reading

26

My sister would have been 26 years old today, had she lived to see it.

A lot of people would say I was fortunate to have been young and not understood all of it and that I was fortunate to have lost her earlier rather than after having known her for years. People say a lot of stupid stuff because they simply don’t know what to say. Instead of letting you mourn, they try to make it better. Now that I’m older I understand how awkward death makes people feel. It’s uncomfortable. No one wants to deal with it. Especially the sadness. So they try to quietly brush it away. Try to make whatever happened seem like it was for the best. Or it could have been worse.

They’d be wrong though. Loss is loss. It all hurts.

It was my very first childhood trauma, which is unfortunate because they’re some of my very first memories too. I remember mom crying a lot. I remember daddy and I singing to her together and him saying it made her heart beat right. I remember her in her little glass box. Wondering why we couldn’t just take her home in the box if she had to stay in it. She looked like a present all wrapped up in that little box. I thought I could sing to her all the time if it made her better. If that was what would cure her I would sing for the rest of my life, and I was convinced it could.

One day the singing couldn’t fix it. The next day she was just gone.

I may not have known her for years like some, but I knew her for seven days and it was long enough to know I loved her. I recall in my teens being angry at God for never even having a chance to get to know her. Even now, I wonder who she would have become. Would we look similar? Would we fight a lot or hardly at all? Would she have been disabled from her birth defects? What color hair would she have? What color eyes?

Did she know I loved her when she left?