A collision of the South and the Northwest
Maggie was drawn to me. I couldn’t understand it. Her mom asked her if she remembered me. She searched my face.
“No,” she said, and went about the business of being six years old.
She was born just a few days after my wedding, but we didn’t meet until a few years later. We had a tea party, and she taught me how to hold my pinky the right way. At that time, it was too painful for me to pursue attachments to children. Even the ones in my family. Continue reading “A princess with a great longing”
Don’t worry, Mom. We’re not moving again.
But, we sure have done a lot of that in the last few years — four years to be exact. It was four years ago this month that we put our house on the market in Nashville. Since then, we’ve had two seasons as nomad-fundraisers, two years in India, a very unsettled year in Nashville and a little over six months in Seattle.
I’ve learned a lot about saying goodbye — none of it the easy way. A few random thoughts that Harry promises me aren’t too preachy: Continue reading “A time to say goodbye”
A year ago this March, I arrived in the US after spending two years abroad. In India. I spent two years in India. It doesn’t seem real some days, but there are scars you can’t see easily.
One is literally on my skin from the time I had a bump removed and biopsied from my finger. I didn’t think I was brave enough to have a medical procedure done in a foreign country. Would you believe the doctor’s name was Dr. Job — like the guy in the Bible that is known for his suffering? My finger gets tight now when it’s really hot outside. I can’t forget Dr. Job. Continue reading “Scars, Part 1”