Tag: Dreams

3… 2… 1… Reconciliation.

Three: A child, a mother, and a father are a family. The child, barely 4 years-old, can’t understand why their home is suddenly turned upside down, and shaken brutally like a snow globe. The white flakes covering each person. No one can walk comfortably or unscathed inside the bubble. Tip. Toe. Eggshell. There is sadness in their lives. It’s the…

Faithful Whiskey Nights

I used to think men who drank whiskey or bourbon on the rocks had an alluring sex appeal. Their sips long and gentle. They never showed any wincing as the burn saturated their gullets.  In my mind, they compared to Rhett Butler and other southern gentlemen who retreated after their meals to rooms where they’d smoke cigars and talk politics.…

Recognizing the Unrecognizable

The snow is flying in speckles outside the window. White flakes furiously prance in a surreal glitter glory. My face is naked staring at the reflection in my hundred year old vanity. Three mirrors, yellowed and fading with curling and peeling edges, surround a surface coated in coffee cup rings. Stains from starting my morning and spilling caffeine trying to…

Licking Lottery Dreams

Today I woke up in pee. It wasn’t my urine. Those overnight diaper/pull up things are liars. I attest to their ability to barely last 4 hours, as they make grand claims to provide 12 hours of protection. Last night, I took a sick little boy into the big bed and I wake up in the warmth. I will also…

In My Dreams…

In my dreams…        There is a place where the air is clean and pure. Neighbors come from next door welcoming my family to the neighborhood. Our front door is fire engine red, and inside there are boxes waiting to be unpacked. We have moved, this is our new home. The sun is gleaming and the wind is…

To the Little Ones With Big Dreams

To the little girl with big dreams: I’ve twisted and turned myself inside out, upside down. The Red Hot Chili Peppers are blaring in my ears, Breaking the Girl. Can’t break what was already broken, but I can mend together the seams. Stitch back what was ripped apart, stuff white cotton innards back into the doll. The doll’s body will…

Dreams Can Come True on The Good Men Project

On Saturday, one of the most important letters I’ve written was featured on The Good Men Project. I’ve been told there are things I couldn’t do. I was told I probably shouldn’t try to have a baby. People say ‘writers are a dime a dozen.’ Even in knowing this, I can’t stop writing. Had I listened to the specialists, I…

A Letter to You, My Son

My dear sweet baby boy, There is so much I want to say. My words fail me at times. In time, some people may fail you. I hope to not be one of them. I hope you will understand that sometimes Mama is sad. I struggle with a juggling act where I carry too many balls, each plummeting from the…

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