Posts Tagged ‘love’
Thursday, February 2nd, 2012
There is not one photo that captures the essence of me. At least, I couldn’t find one.
I did find plenty of shots where I’m clearly trying to pose just so: hand on my hip, body tilted sideways, chin up so I don’t have jowls. And that is me, self-conscious and certain I don’t photograph well.
But the picture I chose is one of my absolute favorites. I obviously did not know my husband was taking pictures of me as I sat with my baby and I love that there is nothing posed about me at all.
What I really love about this shot is that how I feel about this child is written all over my face. I hope he – and all my kids – know how very much they are loved.
This post is for Mama Kat’s Writing Workshop.
Thursday, December 8th, 2011
Today is our 10th wedding anniversary.
And yes, I was a child bride.
Stop laughing. Also, do me a favor and ignore my crazy eyes. Do you know how tough it is to fix red-eye?
It just goes to show how few pictures I have of David and me together. That’s what happens when you rarely get out of the house together without kids – that doesn’t end with us walking aimlessly around Target.
Ten years ago, we exchanged vows with the surf crashing in front of us and a red and orange sky above us and those we loved most sitting behind us.
Ten years ago, I didn’t know what to expect. I had a career and the idea of children was just that. An idea.
Ten years ago, I hadn’t a clue what marriage was all about. I didn’t know there’d be days where I’d wonder who the hell this guy on the other side of the bed was and how, exactly, he’d gotten there. And also, how did I get him to go somewhere else?
Ten years ago, I didn’t get that love comes in waves, and that it takes work, but some days, it’s as easy as it was when we first met.
Ten years ago, I didn’t know he’d still make me laugh til I practically pee my pants. Who am I fooling. After three kids, I totally pee my pants.
Ten years ago, I couldn’t have known I’d cry at the wonder on his face as he gazed upon our seconds-old baby.
Ten years ago, I couldn’t have imagined the depth of love for another human being that comes from time and age and faith.
Ten years ago, I married my best friend.
Ten years later, he still is.
Happy anniversary, David. I love you.
Tuesday, June 28th, 2011
This was a post I wrote over a year ago, but it’s what I thought of when I saw the RemembeRED prompt, “Tell about a memory of a school trip” for The Red Dress Club.
The brown paper bag is clutched in my hand until the top is wrinkled like the skin of an old lady.
Inside the bag, the prized can I carefully selected waits, wrapped in tin foil to keep in the cold. But always it explodes pink frothy warm.
A drawing in ballpoint pen decorates the front of the bag. Today it is of the replica historical village we visit, where we learn about survival before they had yellow school buses and black cherry soda.
I was the only one with such a drawing, as I was each time our class went on a field trip.
Love from Mom. Love. The word I didn’t hear. Maybe this was proof?
Special, for once. Me.
Only she does not remember now, this thing, so profound.
I prompt: Were you bored? Did you want me to know you were thinking of me?
She said she didn’t know. She’d ponder, get back to me.
So I wonder, will my kids call one quiet afternoon, grown up, and ask, Do you remember?
I want to. I want to.
What will stay with them? Not the manufactured memories of trips to SeaWorld and Princess birthday parties we try so hard to give them.
When they knew they were truly seen.
When they knew they were loved.
Ballpoint pen on a paper bag.
Friday, August 13th, 2010
The following is from the writing prompt “craft a piece focusing on dialogue between two people arguing.”
“I can’t do it,” I said, pressing my forehead onto the cool wood of the dining room table. “I can’t.”
“You can,” Zack said. “I’ll be right there.” (more…)