Sharing

11 November 2011

Did you see my hands shaking?

I wasn't ready to see you yet. You only told me goodbye a couple of weeks ago-- and I hadn't yet stopped chasing the tail of your words around my mind.

But there you were. In that grey jacket you sometimes wear.

"We're matching," I didn't say.

The autumn sun looked good on you.

"Hi!" Too cheerful, I know.

But you were kind-- are kind. Thank you for smiling and for reminding me how we tried to get our picture in the paper.

"And you? How are things with you?"

I tried (a valiant effort, I think) to smile-- effortlessly.

Be real.

Be natural.

... I babbled.

"So, you mean it's a little stressful?"

You know too well what my smile means.

But it's okay, I know what your smiles mean too.

"Good luck with everything," I said.

"Have a nice life," you didn't say.

The sunshine looked thin on that dark spot that had been your shadow a moment ago. And my hands were shaking. I don't know why. I hadn't even really thought of you for a whole day.

Golden

03 February 2011

The blinking cursor chimed in my empty text box: You are out of practice.

After a year and a half of writing notes in Spanish (Por favor! venga a la iglesia! Lea sus escrituras! No se olvide sus oraciones!) I'm back. Sort of. It's like starting first grade over again, with not enough words to say all the big feelings inside, and not enough patience to wait for the right ones, and--now, finally--not enough pride to care.

Because it's fall outside and I can't help but write about the walk through that lovely overhang of sunshine seeping from the branches of the golden trees. They lean over, heavy with the weight of leaves, painted in autumn glow, beaming beneath the clouds in golden, fall glory.

I just had to stop for a moment and enjoy: face upturned, arms thrown wide!

Fall is here!

was.

Yesterday morning I woke up to frost.