We are the sum total of our stories. So when we sit down at the computer and open a vein we offer life to someone else. We pour out what we’ve learned or failed to learn as a lifeline to someone else. We offer our stories across computer screens, transfusion-like. On Wednesday morning I re-live the same story I’ve lived a hundred times in a hundred different airports. There’s the familiar waiting, the knot in stomach, the worrying I’m at keep reading…
{This started out as a Five Minute Friday post. I liked it. And then I wanted to edit it a bit. And finish it. So I did.} He holds his heart as we wait at the red line in the immigration queue. His face has a puzzled look. Passports slide back our way and we crane necks for one last look, one wave, one jump up and down and blowing of last kisses. Then with heavy back packs we start keep reading…
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Two years ago I sat on a park bench eating orange sherbert ice cream and telling Holley all these dreams that were crammed so tight inside my heart I could hardly breathe for fear of splitting down the middle. I told her about my sleepless nights. I told her about the desperate desire to be poured out. I told her I needed to create a space for women to connect. I needed to spill out all the ideas that had keep reading…
Two years and one job ago. I sat across from the man I love on the bed we’ve loved in since we were first married ten years before. I sat and smacked fist into palm and said it again and again and again, “But this can’t be what I’m supposed to do with my life.” And there it was – the old frustration that stuck in the back of my throat and that I hadn’t been able to swallow down keep reading…
She breathes through her nose when she’s having a strong emotion. Short, sharp exclamation points that punctuate her just ten months of life. Her brother yells, “Wa-hoo!” with accompanying right-hand fist pump when a surprise unfolds, there’s ice cream in a cone for dessert, or we agree to let him watch Pingu. His brother at the age of six still hugs like a baby monkey – face scrunched up behind his glasses; arms and legs wrapped vice-like around the middle. keep reading…
Mandy Scarr
“Don’t let your lack of words keep you from sitting beside her. Let her cry ugly tears, catching them as they fall. That’s all she really needs, that’s all she really wants. She wants you, comfort with clothes on”
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