Bread Crumbs: ANY TIME YOU THINK OF ME

My friend Tommy had come home in the spring of his first year of college with blinding headaches. When I went to visit him, his Mom told me he had a brain tumor. I asked her if it could be removed and she replied that they were Christian Scientist and many were praying for his recovery.. I prayed too and visited every couple of weeks all summer. When I came home from college for Christmas break, I found him optimistic but so weakened that his main exercise was squeezing a tennis ball. He had pain medication but there would be no surgery. Back at college, I was busy and his Mom said he did not like to talk on the phone, so I stopped calling.

Gitalongs: THE GUNNYSACK AND THE HANG-UP TREE

Some days when we arrive home from work at the same moment, I see my neighbor stop and admire a dogwood tree along the pathway from his car to his door. Some days he just eyes it as he passes, perhaps nods and smiles at it. Other days he appears to examine it for quite a while. On one such day, curiosity got the better of me and I hailed my friend as he was gazing at the tree. My friend half waved and continued to look at the tree. I approached quietly and looked at the tree to see what was so interesting. When my friend finally turned to me, I asked, "What are you seeing that I don't?"

Poetry: NIGHT ON THE SANDBAR

Here we sit, friend, you and I, silent,
Alone with the sea on a moonless night.
I look for the line where water meets air.
It isn't there.

Have you ever completely lost faith in facts,
In what we all preach about Life, Cosmos, God?
Ever lost touch with your body, with Earth -
Your reason adrift?

Parenting: SIX-YEAR-OLD WISDOM

Every night I would spend 15 minutes sitting in the dark bedroom with one child while my husband sat with the other child for quiet “debriefing” time before going to sleep. Then we would switch rooms. This was our solution to the incessant calls for water, the bathroom, and other attention-getters after we had put them to bed.

One night my six year old daughter asked me,”Do you like how you are?”
“Well...yes, I do. Why do you ask?”
“And does Daddy like how he is?” She was almost asleep.
“I think so, sure.” Catching on, I asked, “Do you like how you are?”
“Uh-huh,” she yawned, “everybody has to like how they are. Megan and Sarah won't share their toys with me.”
“Oh, what seems to be the problem?”
“I think they don't like how they are. G'night, Mom.”

My six year old daughter had discovered the root of self-confidence. 

Six-Year-Old Wisdom by Abby Freeborn is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License. For permission to use contact randmxcentric@gmail.com