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Illusive Peace

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Her house is stifling.  The fan above her clicks a rhythm and she lays as still as she can, hoping for relief. She pushes herself up, forcing movement that reverberates in her head. Walking through the rooms, she checks windows, praying for the breath of a breeze. She loves this house. Here she nursed and nurtured her babies.  The walls show signs of life-- fingerprints and smudges.  Smiling faces, captured and framed, adorn the walls. But, the walls are closing in and she retreats to the sanctuary of her room.  The thoughts are pressing, intensifying the pain in her head.  She tries with all her might to force them out. You're not welcome here . Still, they come. Persistent, they are. The fan beats in time with the judgements- ' not e-nough, not e-nough, not e-nough'.   She puts out the welcome mat, hoping for sleep.  Instead, she cries, curled into herself. But, the day is like any other, demanding, not to be ignored.  Amazing how you can function when you&#
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Caps and Gowns-- Endings and Beginnings

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Friday found me in a large auditorium.  Purple seats with no leg room or padding.  The Handy Man was at my side, my daughters and parents down the row. This is the day we'd waited for.  This was the moment that spurred on our flurry of make-up days and long nights of study. And, yet, it seemed sad, to have it all end.  How could the time have gone so quickly?  I watched as Jacob made  his way into the hall and found his seat in a sea of silver caps and gowns. He didn't look around, there was no triumphant fist-pump as he entered. Suddenly, I saw my child in a different light.  No longer was he the loud and boisterous boy whose laughter carries through the floors and walls of our home.  He wasn't the confident Scout, who leads songs and skits without abandon.  Here, he was 'school-Jacob', shy and unsure.  In a crowd of over 500, he has a  handful of friends.  The images he's painted for me- lonely school lunchtimes and sitting alone- came crashing in.
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