"Its like learning to fly or falling in love: its gonna hapen when its supposed to happen."
There was no sense of urgency in their movement. Thomas had watched these two girls grow up and had always waited for them to ask for his help. Every girl needs their daddy's help, right. He had been there to feed them, tie their shoelaces, teach them to drive. The list went on.
But today he had asked if they needed his help and they said no. It was the hardest day of their life and they were about to stand alone. Without him or his help. To be honest, Thomas was at a loss. He had counted on them to distract him from the day. And they had, but in a most discomforting way.
It was their moment. Meghan and Taylor stood up, walked to the front of the church, and began to speak. But to Thomas' surprise, they didn't talk about their Mom. They didn't give some expected speech about how great their mom was, how much they loved her, how much they would miss her.
Taylor talked about the woman her mom was. The way she took pride in her work, whether it was a report for her boss or a homemade dinner for her family. And her kindness. She smiled at strangers, gave to needy. And her strength. Life was hard but her mom had never complained, and was always grateful for the good as well as the bad.
Meghan talked about the way she loved. The energy she put into her family. How important it was for the people she loved to be happy. The compassion that poured out of her almost unwillingly.
The two girls came back and sat down by Thomas. They sat on either side and held his hands. Thomas cried. He cried for the wife he lost. He cried at the moving eulogy his daughters had just given. And he also cried to see his daughters stand alone. To see them so strong and capable.
It was a bittersweet realization that his girls were grown now. That although they may still want him to be there, to kiss their boo-boos and say everything would be okay, to help them navigate through the lessons of life, the girls didn't need him. He had gave them all they needed to fly.
Monday, June 29, 2009
Thursday, June 25, 2009
will you be there?
"In our darkest hour, in my deepest despair, will you still care? Will you be there? In my trials and my tribulations. Through our doubts and frustrations. In my violence. In my turbulence. Through my fear and my confessions. In my anguish and my pain. Through my joy and my sorrow. In the promise of another tomorrow. I’ll never let you part for you’re always in my heart."
R.I.P. to the King of Pop
Your contribution to the evolution of pop music and what it means to be an entertainer will never be forgotten. You were a pioneer, and you were the breakthrough that allowed hundreds of other black musicians to have a wider audience and more acceptance. You cannot be forgotten because we see you in every Usher, Chris Brown, Justin Timberlake, Britney Spears, Ciara, and on and on. We see you in Janet.
No matter the controversy, the eccentricities, we know how amazing and important you are and we will miss you.
R.I.P. to the King of Pop
Your contribution to the evolution of pop music and what it means to be an entertainer will never be forgotten. You were a pioneer, and you were the breakthrough that allowed hundreds of other black musicians to have a wider audience and more acceptance. You cannot be forgotten because we see you in every Usher, Chris Brown, Justin Timberlake, Britney Spears, Ciara, and on and on. We see you in Janet.
No matter the controversy, the eccentricities, we know how amazing and important you are and we will miss you.
again
"Sneaking fruit from the forbidden tree. Sweet taste of sin."
They would often meet at the airport. Marlin had found it was the perfect place. Filled with people too preoccupied, bored, or uninterested to pay attention. Even the big brother security could care less about two people holding hands. Their quest was for terrorists and nuisances.
Marlin would call her when he was tired of his life. When he felt trapped by the long hours at work, the sprawling acre of land his house sat on, his family. He called with the flight details.
He never asked about her life. Marlin did find it slightly odd that she could just drop everything to run away with him for a few days. She would arrive from Phoenix, he would come from L.A. Marlin always scheduled his flight to arrive first so he could be waiting on her. And they would leave the airport hand in hand.
But Marlin found the getaways harder to accomplish. He had to skim money off the top of his check and open a separate account in order to pay for the trips without his wife getting suspicious. He disguised the affair as business trips, but the ironic reality was that his productivity at work was dropping.
All things must come to a head. He was put on probation at work for failing to complete the required hours of work. His wife had found a bank statement in the mail for his separate account. There Marlin stood with a job in limbo and an angry, inquisitive wife. He had never felt more trapped.
So he called her, packed a large suitcase, and flew to Phoenix. He never came back again.
They would often meet at the airport. Marlin had found it was the perfect place. Filled with people too preoccupied, bored, or uninterested to pay attention. Even the big brother security could care less about two people holding hands. Their quest was for terrorists and nuisances.
Marlin would call her when he was tired of his life. When he felt trapped by the long hours at work, the sprawling acre of land his house sat on, his family. He called with the flight details.
He never asked about her life. Marlin did find it slightly odd that she could just drop everything to run away with him for a few days. She would arrive from Phoenix, he would come from L.A. Marlin always scheduled his flight to arrive first so he could be waiting on her. And they would leave the airport hand in hand.
But Marlin found the getaways harder to accomplish. He had to skim money off the top of his check and open a separate account in order to pay for the trips without his wife getting suspicious. He disguised the affair as business trips, but the ironic reality was that his productivity at work was dropping.
All things must come to a head. He was put on probation at work for failing to complete the required hours of work. His wife had found a bank statement in the mail for his separate account. There Marlin stood with a job in limbo and an angry, inquisitive wife. He had never felt more trapped.
So he called her, packed a large suitcase, and flew to Phoenix. He never came back again.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
collide
"I'm worried I won't see your face light up again."
What if today was the last day I made you smile?
Things change so quickly. Today could b e the last day you loved me. We're so fickle these days, myself included. Tomorrow you could wake up to find my laughter annoying, my quirks less endearing, my thoughts no longer memorable.
We all like the new and shiny. The unknown becomes more exciting than terrifying. And as crazy as it sounds, it becomes safer.
There is a constant fear of exposure. Of putting yourself out there with all your beauty and ugly. Leaving your soul open to rejection. Putting everything you have into one person.
Sometimes fear of commitment is really more about the fear that one day the person laying beside you will wake up, look at you, and no longer see your shine.
What if today was the last day I made you smile?
Things change so quickly. Today could b e the last day you loved me. We're so fickle these days, myself included. Tomorrow you could wake up to find my laughter annoying, my quirks less endearing, my thoughts no longer memorable.
We all like the new and shiny. The unknown becomes more exciting than terrifying. And as crazy as it sounds, it becomes safer.
There is a constant fear of exposure. Of putting yourself out there with all your beauty and ugly. Leaving your soul open to rejection. Putting everything you have into one person.
Sometimes fear of commitment is really more about the fear that one day the person laying beside you will wake up, look at you, and no longer see your shine.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
hold on
"You've got no one to blame for your unhappiness."
Marcie woke up with a grunt. She could never sleep past seven am without the neighbor's carpool honking to wake her up. Today was no different. She sat up reluctantly, looked over at Glenn resentfully, and stumbled out of bed. Somehow Glenn always slept through the stupid carpool. He conveniently slept until after she had gone outside to get the paper and the coffee was fully brewed.
Marcie's disdain for the day continued as she edged through traffic only to arrive at work more disgusted than when she got in the car. Her mood today was sullen. She skulked around the office, barking at her secretary, mumbling at her supervisor, and half-heartedly finishing the marketing reports for tomorrow.
About thirty minutes before time to clock out, Marcie's secretary came into her office and gave a two weeks notice. The girl's name was Darelle. She was barely twenty-five years old. Marcie's curiosity peaked and she had Darelle sit down to explain.
Darelle briefly looked surprised, then took a seat directly across from Marcie. Over the next twenty minutes, Darelle explained that this secretary job was just to bring in some money. Her real passion had always been painting, and she had worked hard to make a name for herself in the local galleries. It had finally paid off. For the last six months her paintings had been in high demand. So she was leaving to take on her passion full time.
Darelle left Marcie in her office thinking about passion. It almost seemed like a foreign word. Or like a dirty word. Passion. Marcie didn't think that passion had a place in her life. Mortgages, grocery shopping, oil changes, meetings, electric bills, traffic. That was her life. A husband whose face she rarely saw peek out from behind the newspaper.
Passion. Marcie wasn't even sure the last time she felt it. But she knew that it had been there at one point. The relish of creating innovative and effective marketing strategies. The comfort in settling down into a house. The lust and love for her husband that brought them together every night. Those things were a decade past. They had no place in her life now.
Yet still she was envious of Darelle. Of her passion.
Marcie woke up with a grunt. She could never sleep past seven am without the neighbor's carpool honking to wake her up. Today was no different. She sat up reluctantly, looked over at Glenn resentfully, and stumbled out of bed. Somehow Glenn always slept through the stupid carpool. He conveniently slept until after she had gone outside to get the paper and the coffee was fully brewed.
Marcie's disdain for the day continued as she edged through traffic only to arrive at work more disgusted than when she got in the car. Her mood today was sullen. She skulked around the office, barking at her secretary, mumbling at her supervisor, and half-heartedly finishing the marketing reports for tomorrow.
About thirty minutes before time to clock out, Marcie's secretary came into her office and gave a two weeks notice. The girl's name was Darelle. She was barely twenty-five years old. Marcie's curiosity peaked and she had Darelle sit down to explain.
Darelle briefly looked surprised, then took a seat directly across from Marcie. Over the next twenty minutes, Darelle explained that this secretary job was just to bring in some money. Her real passion had always been painting, and she had worked hard to make a name for herself in the local galleries. It had finally paid off. For the last six months her paintings had been in high demand. So she was leaving to take on her passion full time.
Darelle left Marcie in her office thinking about passion. It almost seemed like a foreign word. Or like a dirty word. Passion. Marcie didn't think that passion had a place in her life. Mortgages, grocery shopping, oil changes, meetings, electric bills, traffic. That was her life. A husband whose face she rarely saw peek out from behind the newspaper.
Passion. Marcie wasn't even sure the last time she felt it. But she knew that it had been there at one point. The relish of creating innovative and effective marketing strategies. The comfort in settling down into a house. The lust and love for her husband that brought them together every night. Those things were a decade past. They had no place in her life now.
Yet still she was envious of Darelle. Of her passion.
Monday, June 22, 2009
torn
"I thought I saw a man come to life."
In some ways it ended before it began. Or maybe it ended just as it began. Beth wasn't really mad, more like disappointed. Simon held so much promise.
She met him six months ago. Standing in a grocery line with a half-gallon of milk, a jar of peanut butter, and two microwaveable burritos. He just looked like some typical single guy. But as Beth was collecting her bagged groceries, she glimpsed something more. Simon had a conversation with the young checkout girl in Spanish. Not to show off, but to put the girl at ease because she had struggled recklessly and the customers were growing impatient.
Beth, in her usual brazen manner, walked up to Simon and gave him her number. Thus, the six months began. From the outside, the relationship probably looked perfect. Full of trendy restaurants, thoughtful movies, and the "must-attend" events in town.
But really Beth had made the fatal error. She liked the potential in Simon, not the guy he was right now. She saw his ambition, intelligence, kindness, and knew what he could become. And she was probably right. One day Simon would be the CEO of some Fortune 500 company. Or a member of the U.S. Senate. Or a famous novelist. Anything he wanted to be.
But he wasn't that man right now. Simon was twenty years old. He enjoyed watching Will Ferrell movies, hanging out in the evenings with his dog and a beer, and living off peanut butter and whatever could be microwaved in less than five minutes. Even better than Beth, he could see the man he would someday be. But he wasn't ready to be that man yet.
In some ways it ended before it began. Or maybe it ended just as it began. Beth wasn't really mad, more like disappointed. Simon held so much promise.
She met him six months ago. Standing in a grocery line with a half-gallon of milk, a jar of peanut butter, and two microwaveable burritos. He just looked like some typical single guy. But as Beth was collecting her bagged groceries, she glimpsed something more. Simon had a conversation with the young checkout girl in Spanish. Not to show off, but to put the girl at ease because she had struggled recklessly and the customers were growing impatient.
Beth, in her usual brazen manner, walked up to Simon and gave him her number. Thus, the six months began. From the outside, the relationship probably looked perfect. Full of trendy restaurants, thoughtful movies, and the "must-attend" events in town.
But really Beth had made the fatal error. She liked the potential in Simon, not the guy he was right now. She saw his ambition, intelligence, kindness, and knew what he could become. And she was probably right. One day Simon would be the CEO of some Fortune 500 company. Or a member of the U.S. Senate. Or a famous novelist. Anything he wanted to be.
But he wasn't that man right now. Simon was twenty years old. He enjoyed watching Will Ferrell movies, hanging out in the evenings with his dog and a beer, and living off peanut butter and whatever could be microwaved in less than five minutes. Even better than Beth, he could see the man he would someday be. But he wasn't ready to be that man yet.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
drops of jupiter
"Did you miss me while you were looking at yourself out there?"
The first thing she noticed was the air. Lakeisha had grown up in L.A., and had never ventured more than four hours from the city limits. Lakeisha had seen movie stars, was at the beach every weekend. But she was amazed by this place.
She stepped off the bus at the camp, and the doubt she had been suppressing since she boarded the plane at LAX surfaced along with a violent wave of nausea. Even from the edge of the camp, the smell was overwhelming. She hesitated dramatically, then realized she was an ocean away from home. There was nowhere to run back to.
Lakeisha soon came to know the pungent smell drifting around the camp as the smell of desperation. She got over it and did what she came to do. Although she would never admit it aloud, this trip was more about her. Seeing the world. Finding her role in the universe. Gaining perspective.
She was stationed at the camp for two weeks. She picked up parts of the native language. She saw despair in the refugees eyes, and realized that a child's natural glimmer of hope can be destroyed. She saw bravery conquer fear, and love triumph unbelievable odds. And she saw the loneliest, saddest, most helpless people she'd ever seen in her life.
Her two weeks ended. She packed her duffel. She kissed the children. She hugged the mothers. She shook hands with the men. She got back on that bus, back on that plane and cross the ocean. She got home and took a deep breath of the smog-ridden L.A. air.
But there was a trace of the camp's smell that lingered. It led her to the homeless man on the corner. The rehab center down the street. The orphanage two miles down. The ghettos across town.
The first thing she noticed was the air. Lakeisha had grown up in L.A., and had never ventured more than four hours from the city limits. Lakeisha had seen movie stars, was at the beach every weekend. But she was amazed by this place.
She stepped off the bus at the camp, and the doubt she had been suppressing since she boarded the plane at LAX surfaced along with a violent wave of nausea. Even from the edge of the camp, the smell was overwhelming. She hesitated dramatically, then realized she was an ocean away from home. There was nowhere to run back to.
Lakeisha soon came to know the pungent smell drifting around the camp as the smell of desperation. She got over it and did what she came to do. Although she would never admit it aloud, this trip was more about her. Seeing the world. Finding her role in the universe. Gaining perspective.
She was stationed at the camp for two weeks. She picked up parts of the native language. She saw despair in the refugees eyes, and realized that a child's natural glimmer of hope can be destroyed. She saw bravery conquer fear, and love triumph unbelievable odds. And she saw the loneliest, saddest, most helpless people she'd ever seen in her life.
Her two weeks ended. She packed her duffel. She kissed the children. She hugged the mothers. She shook hands with the men. She got back on that bus, back on that plane and cross the ocean. She got home and took a deep breath of the smog-ridden L.A. air.
But there was a trace of the camp's smell that lingered. It led her to the homeless man on the corner. The rehab center down the street. The orphanage two miles down. The ghettos across town.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
1999
"Life is just a party and parties weren't meant to last."
Its that whole carpe diem thing. That notion to live each moment to the fullest because you never know which one is your last. That whole stop to smell the roses advice.
There are a million ways to say it, but it all means to live. Hope. Dance. Love. Lust. Dream. Imagine. Think. Help. Take a chance. Be compassionate. Smile. Cry. Be humble. Be strong. Work. Play. Discover. Learn. LIVE!
Do all the things you dream of. Be the person you want to be. And start right now. You may not have the chance tomorrow.
Its that whole carpe diem thing. That notion to live each moment to the fullest because you never know which one is your last. That whole stop to smell the roses advice.
There are a million ways to say it, but it all means to live. Hope. Dance. Love. Lust. Dream. Imagine. Think. Help. Take a chance. Be compassionate. Smile. Cry. Be humble. Be strong. Work. Play. Discover. Learn. LIVE!
Do all the things you dream of. Be the person you want to be. And start right now. You may not have the chance tomorrow.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
breathe (2 am)
"And these mistakes you've made you'll just make them again if you only try turning around."
Sometimes it felt like a wall. Like there was an actual structure of bricks stopping her. She wasn't sure if she should call that wall luck, or conscience, or God. (It crossed her mind that maybe all three were really the same thing with different names.) So sometimes she stopped, more accurately prevented, from repeating history.
But most times that was not the case. Most times she would flee openly to the past. A more predictable place, and in that sense, a safer one. Yet she always seemed amazed at the rut she was stuck in. The unsuccessful relationships. The stagnant career. Nothing ever really seemed to change, to get better. She never seemed to get better.
And somewhere deep inside she knew there was a step that needed to be taken. A step forward. That she should close her eyes, take a deep breath, and step out. But she wouldn't. She thought about it for hours, and the dread of such unknown often was the tipping point that sent her fleeing for the known. There seemed to be no way for her to be unafraid of the unknown.
And that is the fault in her thinking. She would never get over the fear until she stepped out. That fear, that dread of making a bad choice, of taking a chance, means that your on the right path.
Sometimes it felt like a wall. Like there was an actual structure of bricks stopping her. She wasn't sure if she should call that wall luck, or conscience, or God. (It crossed her mind that maybe all three were really the same thing with different names.) So sometimes she stopped, more accurately prevented, from repeating history.
But most times that was not the case. Most times she would flee openly to the past. A more predictable place, and in that sense, a safer one. Yet she always seemed amazed at the rut she was stuck in. The unsuccessful relationships. The stagnant career. Nothing ever really seemed to change, to get better. She never seemed to get better.
And somewhere deep inside she knew there was a step that needed to be taken. A step forward. That she should close her eyes, take a deep breath, and step out. But she wouldn't. She thought about it for hours, and the dread of such unknown often was the tipping point that sent her fleeing for the known. There seemed to be no way for her to be unafraid of the unknown.
And that is the fault in her thinking. She would never get over the fear until she stepped out. That fear, that dread of making a bad choice, of taking a chance, means that your on the right path.
Monday, June 15, 2009
you belong with me
"She wears high heels. I wear sneakers."
There was no way Maia could compete with her. Amanda wore eyeliner and mascara, she got manicures and pedicures, and she wore designer clothes. Maia had never considered indulging in personal beauty services. She only believed in bargain shopping. Her experience in make-up was minimal, and only consisted of people putting it on for her.
To be honest, Maia never wanted to be an Amanda type of girl. That is, until yesterday. She and Amanda were having lunch when a man walked in the cafe. Well to call him a man is really a disservice. He was an adonis, a god. Tall, dark, with these muscles and this smile.
He sat at the table next to them, and quickly turned to introduce himself. He spoke first to Maia, introducing himself as Lance, Maia's delight soon faded when he turned to speak to Amanda. The spark in his eyes changed. There was a light of intrigue and passion that wasn't there when he spoke to Maia.
As the two chatted, Maia began to think about her unshaped eyebrows, messy ponytail, sensible flats, even her unshaven legs beneath her pants. Before she got too emotional, Maia excused herself from the table, making up some excuse about needing to get back to work.
As she rode the elevator up to her office, she thought more about Amanda and herself. Maia had always been the sensible one. Amanda had always enjoyed the spotlight. Maia was captain of the debate team. Amanda was captain of the cheerleading squad. Maia attended Brown with an academic scholarship. Amanda went to Florida and partied.
These things had never bothered Maia. She had always found comfort in her practicality. But today she recognized something their mother had been telling then for as long as she could remember. That Amanda and Maia could stand to be a little more like the other. Maybe it was practical to care more about her looks if Maia ever wanted to get married. She hadn't even had a date in eight months.
Lance had liked Amanda. Her face was dolled up. Her hair was luxurious. Her perfume was alluring. These material things made a difference. After all, Maia and Amanda are identical twins.
There was no way Maia could compete with her. Amanda wore eyeliner and mascara, she got manicures and pedicures, and she wore designer clothes. Maia had never considered indulging in personal beauty services. She only believed in bargain shopping. Her experience in make-up was minimal, and only consisted of people putting it on for her.
To be honest, Maia never wanted to be an Amanda type of girl. That is, until yesterday. She and Amanda were having lunch when a man walked in the cafe. Well to call him a man is really a disservice. He was an adonis, a god. Tall, dark, with these muscles and this smile.
He sat at the table next to them, and quickly turned to introduce himself. He spoke first to Maia, introducing himself as Lance, Maia's delight soon faded when he turned to speak to Amanda. The spark in his eyes changed. There was a light of intrigue and passion that wasn't there when he spoke to Maia.
As the two chatted, Maia began to think about her unshaped eyebrows, messy ponytail, sensible flats, even her unshaven legs beneath her pants. Before she got too emotional, Maia excused herself from the table, making up some excuse about needing to get back to work.
As she rode the elevator up to her office, she thought more about Amanda and herself. Maia had always been the sensible one. Amanda had always enjoyed the spotlight. Maia was captain of the debate team. Amanda was captain of the cheerleading squad. Maia attended Brown with an academic scholarship. Amanda went to Florida and partied.
These things had never bothered Maia. She had always found comfort in her practicality. But today she recognized something their mother had been telling then for as long as she could remember. That Amanda and Maia could stand to be a little more like the other. Maybe it was practical to care more about her looks if Maia ever wanted to get married. She hadn't even had a date in eight months.
Lance had liked Amanda. Her face was dolled up. Her hair was luxurious. Her perfume was alluring. These material things made a difference. After all, Maia and Amanda are identical twins.
Friday, June 12, 2009
forever
"It's like I waited my whole life for this one night."
Marlene was exhausted. The sun had been blazing all day. She thought some relief would come when the desert night rolled in, that a breeze would arrive to bring some comfort. But there would be no alleviation tonight. The stale, dry hot air remained.
Her crew was tired too. After all, they had been toiling out in that same heat as Marlene. She knew they all needed a rest, but the expedition only had funding for one more week. Each day, each minute were crucial.
And she knew this would be the last time she would have this opportunity. This was her third trip to Egypt. Marlene knew the pharoah's treasure was buried, she was nearly certain it was buried here. But she couldn't imagine that after three failed attempts she would be able to convince someone to sponsor another search.
An hour later, and with no find today of large or small significance, Marlene was ready to send everyone home. She was even considering a later start to the day tomorrow just to give the crew more time to recover. Then the whistle sounded. Each digger had a whistle they blew when they found something. Once for something small, twice for something moderate, and thrice for a big find.
Marlene put down her shovel and turned to the direction she thought the sound had come from. The whistle blew again. She began to walk towards the origin of the sound, hoping that whatever this trinket was could salvage morale.
The whistle blew again. Marlene quickened her pace. Her mind became alert again, but she restrained her optimism. After a few minutes of brisk walking, she came up on a jubilant digger. She didn't know this guy's name but surmised he could be no more than 20 years old. She was prepared to dismiss his excitement as naivete until she saw Joann, her assistant. Joann had tears in her eyes.
Marlene looked down and gasped in disbelief. Unearthed were three stairs, each with the distinctive emblem of the pharoah engraved on them. This was it. These were the stairs to the tomb, to the treasure.
And she sat there on the top stair. She cried, she smiled, she dreamed, she shouted. Her crew sat there with her in awe. Marlene could imagine the days and weeks to come. The uncovering, the fanfare. But she couldn't imagine that anything could be better than this night. This moment when it was just her and the realization of a dream.
Marlene was exhausted. The sun had been blazing all day. She thought some relief would come when the desert night rolled in, that a breeze would arrive to bring some comfort. But there would be no alleviation tonight. The stale, dry hot air remained.
Her crew was tired too. After all, they had been toiling out in that same heat as Marlene. She knew they all needed a rest, but the expedition only had funding for one more week. Each day, each minute were crucial.
And she knew this would be the last time she would have this opportunity. This was her third trip to Egypt. Marlene knew the pharoah's treasure was buried, she was nearly certain it was buried here. But she couldn't imagine that after three failed attempts she would be able to convince someone to sponsor another search.
An hour later, and with no find today of large or small significance, Marlene was ready to send everyone home. She was even considering a later start to the day tomorrow just to give the crew more time to recover. Then the whistle sounded. Each digger had a whistle they blew when they found something. Once for something small, twice for something moderate, and thrice for a big find.
Marlene put down her shovel and turned to the direction she thought the sound had come from. The whistle blew again. She began to walk towards the origin of the sound, hoping that whatever this trinket was could salvage morale.
The whistle blew again. Marlene quickened her pace. Her mind became alert again, but she restrained her optimism. After a few minutes of brisk walking, she came up on a jubilant digger. She didn't know this guy's name but surmised he could be no more than 20 years old. She was prepared to dismiss his excitement as naivete until she saw Joann, her assistant. Joann had tears in her eyes.
Marlene looked down and gasped in disbelief. Unearthed were three stairs, each with the distinctive emblem of the pharoah engraved on them. This was it. These were the stairs to the tomb, to the treasure.
And she sat there on the top stair. She cried, she smiled, she dreamed, she shouted. Her crew sat there with her in awe. Marlene could imagine the days and weeks to come. The uncovering, the fanfare. But she couldn't imagine that anything could be better than this night. This moment when it was just her and the realization of a dream.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
love makes things happen
"Love appears at the worst..."
Rondell met Alexis when he was 42 years old. They literally ran into each other in a bookstore. He fell in love with her before he even looked at her face. The books she had were some of his favorites. He looked up with intrigue and found himself staring into an exquisite face.
They sat and talked for an hour. They exchanged emails and soon were chatting on the internet daily. His conversations with Alexis became the thing he looked forward to each day. At 42, Rondell finally understood what a soulmate was.
"...and even the best of times."
Rondell met Jeanie when he was 24 years old. She was beautiful, smart, quirky, and ambitious. They dated for two years and everything seemed so ideal. They had the similar dreams of the future. They both wanted so many of the same things. Jeanie got along great with his family. He truly cared for and loved her. So they got married, bought a house, had a family, and settled down for a long life together.
That is, until Rondell was 42...
Rondell met Alexis when he was 42 years old. They literally ran into each other in a bookstore. He fell in love with her before he even looked at her face. The books she had were some of his favorites. He looked up with intrigue and found himself staring into an exquisite face.
They sat and talked for an hour. They exchanged emails and soon were chatting on the internet daily. His conversations with Alexis became the thing he looked forward to each day. At 42, Rondell finally understood what a soulmate was.
"...and even the best of times."
Rondell met Jeanie when he was 24 years old. She was beautiful, smart, quirky, and ambitious. They dated for two years and everything seemed so ideal. They had the similar dreams of the future. They both wanted so many of the same things. Jeanie got along great with his family. He truly cared for and loved her. So they got married, bought a house, had a family, and settled down for a long life together.
That is, until Rondell was 42...
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
angel
"Spent all your time waiting for that second chance. For a break that would make it okay."
I imagine that he always wanted something more. More than the poor health, more than being adopted, more than being a bus driver. I hope that I'm wrong, that he was happy and had things he wanted.. But I doubt it.
Maybe if I had been older then I could have done more. Stood up for him to his siblings. Encouraged him to be healthy. Maybe I could have gotten over my fear of that house after my Gam died and visited more often.
Right now I mostly feel lost because I never mourned. I didn't go to the funeral and barely had time to acknowledge the loss...
I hope that he is with my grandparents. I hope that they are reminding him how much he is loved. I hope he can see that he is missed. I hope he can see the importance and value his life had here on earth from his new vantage point. I know he is happy there, but I still wish he could have been happy here too.
I imagine that he always wanted something more. More than the poor health, more than being adopted, more than being a bus driver. I hope that I'm wrong, that he was happy and had things he wanted.. But I doubt it.
Maybe if I had been older then I could have done more. Stood up for him to his siblings. Encouraged him to be healthy. Maybe I could have gotten over my fear of that house after my Gam died and visited more often.
Right now I mostly feel lost because I never mourned. I didn't go to the funeral and barely had time to acknowledge the loss...
I hope that he is with my grandparents. I hope that they are reminding him how much he is loved. I hope he can see that he is missed. I hope he can see the importance and value his life had here on earth from his new vantage point. I know he is happy there, but I still wish he could have been happy here too.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
all i got
"Got a mind that lends me strength so I ain't afraid to stand."
There are things I believe in wholeheartedly. Causes, candidates, ideals, and people. And I believe in my opinion. I believe in taking a stand. I believe that there is a fine line between concession and compromise.
My mind never stops thinking. I dream ideas, plans, and strategies. I see possibilities and beauty on every corner. I find inspiration in intelligence and altruism. I take in everything and let my mind turn everything into an action. A cause to advocate for. A subject to study. A story to write. A rightful compassion and determination.
I like to sit back and think. How can I express some distinct human story? Whose political opinions should I give deference to? When and where should I speak my mind? How can I do my part?
And it is here I find my focus, my clarity, my purpose.
There are things I believe in wholeheartedly. Causes, candidates, ideals, and people. And I believe in my opinion. I believe in taking a stand. I believe that there is a fine line between concession and compromise.
My mind never stops thinking. I dream ideas, plans, and strategies. I see possibilities and beauty on every corner. I find inspiration in intelligence and altruism. I take in everything and let my mind turn everything into an action. A cause to advocate for. A subject to study. A story to write. A rightful compassion and determination.
I like to sit back and think. How can I express some distinct human story? Whose political opinions should I give deference to? When and where should I speak my mind? How can I do my part?
And it is here I find my focus, my clarity, my purpose.
Friday, June 5, 2009
a new day has come
"The world thought I had it all. But I was waiting for you."
One day she found him. It was like she turned a corner and he was there. It took only one moment, one look for Nia to know. The person she'd been waiting her whole life to love.
A boy. With long eyelashes covering his dark eyes. With an infectious laugh. With a wobbly gait. A boy. Two years old and already the person of her dreams.
Nia had dreamed of kids. She was a successful entrepreneur. She owned her own home. She drove an expensive car. There were men falling at her feet. And she was happy but lonely.
Then she met Eric. She saw him one day when she was volunteering at the local humane shelter. A group of kids from a nearby orphanage had a "field trip" there. And she fell in love.
A two year old boy had brought a purpose to her life she had never felt.
One day she found him. It was like she turned a corner and he was there. It took only one moment, one look for Nia to know. The person she'd been waiting her whole life to love.
A boy. With long eyelashes covering his dark eyes. With an infectious laugh. With a wobbly gait. A boy. Two years old and already the person of her dreams.
Nia had dreamed of kids. She was a successful entrepreneur. She owned her own home. She drove an expensive car. There were men falling at her feet. And she was happy but lonely.
Then she met Eric. She saw him one day when she was volunteering at the local humane shelter. A group of kids from a nearby orphanage had a "field trip" there. And she fell in love.
A two year old boy had brought a purpose to her life she had never felt.
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
miss you much
"I'm not the kind of girl who likes to be alone."
Annika had this boyfriend. Neil. They met at a club one night and instantly hit it off. They exchanged numbers and the rest, as they say, is history. The two get along great, have a lot in common, and really care about each other.
Enter problem. Annika lives in Charlotte. Neil lives in Boston.
Annika adores Neil, but six months into the relationship and she already knows its not for her. She likes to cuddle on the couch. She wants spontaneous dates. She needs someone to be there in the flesh. Not a million miles away on a phone.
But Annika can't bear to break Neil's heart. And so she let's the relationship linger on... and starts to feel a resentment and bitterness. She acts against these feelings by going out. She begins dating again.
Then one day there's a picture of Annika. With this guy Elijah. All cuddled up on a couch at her favorite lounge. A picture on Facebook. A picture that broke Neil's heart.
Annika had this boyfriend. Neil. They met at a club one night and instantly hit it off. They exchanged numbers and the rest, as they say, is history. The two get along great, have a lot in common, and really care about each other.
Enter problem. Annika lives in Charlotte. Neil lives in Boston.
Annika adores Neil, but six months into the relationship and she already knows its not for her. She likes to cuddle on the couch. She wants spontaneous dates. She needs someone to be there in the flesh. Not a million miles away on a phone.
But Annika can't bear to break Neil's heart. And so she let's the relationship linger on... and starts to feel a resentment and bitterness. She acts against these feelings by going out. She begins dating again.
Then one day there's a picture of Annika. With this guy Elijah. All cuddled up on a couch at her favorite lounge. A picture on Facebook. A picture that broke Neil's heart.
Monday, June 1, 2009
with you
"When I'm with you I wonder why people do stop and stare and smile at us."
Miranda would come to the park everyday to watch other people's lives. She sat on a little bench near the water fountain with the guise of reading a book. But really she watched.
She saw lovers' spats, kids playing carefree, lonely folks feeding the ducks, and motivated joggers. But every once in a while, she would see love.
Miranda would see a couple walk by, oozing love from head to toe. It wasn't really about whether they were holding hands or kissing or staring into each others eyes. They would be connected. They were content.
The couples would walk by, talking about the weather or work. But their faces said so much more. A passion that was almost blinding. Caring that would make a bystander blush. And butterflies that were inexplicably contagious.
Yes, Miranda sat on that bench and waited for love to walk by. She watched because she had never been in love, but wanted to be sure she could recognize it when it came.
Miranda would come to the park everyday to watch other people's lives. She sat on a little bench near the water fountain with the guise of reading a book. But really she watched.
She saw lovers' spats, kids playing carefree, lonely folks feeding the ducks, and motivated joggers. But every once in a while, she would see love.
Miranda would see a couple walk by, oozing love from head to toe. It wasn't really about whether they were holding hands or kissing or staring into each others eyes. They would be connected. They were content.
The couples would walk by, talking about the weather or work. But their faces said so much more. A passion that was almost blinding. Caring that would make a bystander blush. And butterflies that were inexplicably contagious.
Yes, Miranda sat on that bench and waited for love to walk by. She watched because she had never been in love, but wanted to be sure she could recognize it when it came.
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