Tuesday, June 22, 2010


Sometimes I look at my life and wonder
what exactly it was that has made me the person I am.

* * *

Sometimes I wonder what causes me to have such empathy and deep love for those whose lives touch mine...and yet, have so very little left over for myself.

Sometimes I dance in the rain...just because I can.

Sometimes I doubt.

Sometimes, all of the time, I regret everything we'll never be able to do now.

Sometimes I believe that the small, exquisite moments throughout life almost make up for every ounce of heartache.

Sometimes I fall down more often than I move forward.

Sometimes I laugh so hard I cry.

Sometimes I tiptoe around the house after Mama & Elizabeth are asleep, just so I can stand over them & make sure that they are safe, and warm, and...there.

Sometimes I ache so much it feels like I can't even breathe.

Sometimes I say "I love you" far too often. But it's only because you can still hear me.

* * *

I have no idea where my life will take me, but I
always wish to live it with abandon,
and sincerity, and faith.

That, my friends, is my deepest desire.

* * *


* * *

"Paramount paid me by the tear."

Sylvia Sidney

* * *

Wednesday, June 16, 2010

One June Evening...

* * * *

There's just something about nighttime.

Something about the way the warm night air wraps itself around me & the stars that seem to bow down out of the heavens, so close it seems I can almost touch them.

Sometimes, I think it almost seems as if I could shout out, "God?" And surely, if I only listened hard enough, I could hear His voice come echoing back to me.

* * * *

Elizabeth & her small, blonde-haired friend sit together, cross-legged, engrossed in a game of cards. Their voices drift lazily across the concrete of our small front porch, winding across the front lawn to my listening ears.

The sound of their laughter, the look of happiness on Elizabeth's face...means everything to me. She deserves to just act like a normal, happy little girl for awhile. Before we know it, she'll be all grown up...

* * * *

Yes, there's just something...

* * * *