This is my father and I -probably around 1978 or 79.
My cousin posted it on a facebook page, which was awesome
because I had never seen it before.
He died in 1981 when I was just 18 years old
so it’s really sweet to have this picture of us together
I have been doing my first week of training in Watertown.
It’s only about 20 miles but it takes about an hour to get there in traffic.
I have to either through or around Boston…
The view from the roof of the parking structure is beautiful.
I park up there even though I am there early enough to park on the ground floor.
Today I am at the center where I will be working!
I am so happy to be able to take the T and not have to drive!
It’s been rainy and grey most of the week but the temps. have been warm.
The daffodils are pushing up near the back steps..
little green shoots of hope
I am loving the time change. It’s so nice to have it still be light in the evenings.
your story is one of strength
girl who once sat at the hearth of my life
your story was darkness and light
when you were young we played
don’t step on the cracks
and I held your hand
now your steps are amethyst sparks
on the ground
where we once walked
can you still play this game in your oblivion
your mirthful and defiant spirit
will always be a part of my story
two of my own
and two of his
and one of someone elses
one from up the street
and two more of a different his
one of hers and one of the first his
and one of the second
in the outskirts
Once on a TV show I heard two girls refer to one another as
and once I came home with a friend to flames at my house
I ran out of her car and into my door
shouting my people are in there
So many numbers….
we add to our families
death and circumstance take away
Really, we are fragments of once whole numbers
fractured by divorce or death or neglect…
we feel we are invisible
no number at all
we seek comfort in groups
but there is no safety net
not one of us equals one
we are all crumbled and cracked and crippled
we are only pieces of hearts that are broken
we are only slivers of those who have touched us
like kaleidoscopes glued together with paste
all kinds of colours
that glow sometimes
in the light of others
Once I heard some one say
we are one people
and I believe that is true
but that does not make me whole
I am still fractured numbers
I am still broken hearted
I am still alone
In a dream you kiss me at sunrise
when the skies run with mist and scarlet
your warm touch on my skin
is a threat to undo me
the alarm bell makes me jump
as I cross into the world of the living
and standing with a group of people on the train I realize
there is not enough time for all the things I want you to do to me