These three days

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Today is the still day, the day I hold my breath and try to fathom how seven years could have passed since my mother died. I vividly recall trying to catch my breath after hearing the news at 7:00 am, swinging my legs over the side of my bed and letting myself sob while the call was still active. The poor woman on the other end of the phone was so lovely and she let me cry until I was able to pull myself together. The hours that followed were a blur. They were filled with emotional embraces with my brother and his family, endless phone calls and the inevitable trip to the funeral home. Many days it feels like it happened yesterday. Today is one of those days.

Tomorrow is the bridge day, the day I allow myself the time to rest and let the well of emotion refill before I have to dip into it again. These three days are saturated with a blend of melancholy and tears, but they are also filled with a joy that is hard to describe as my family and I share the stories that will always make us laugh and still feel loved by those we have lost.

The following day is another serene day. It is the calendar day my father passed away fifteen years ago. Regardless of the weather, March always comes in like a lion for me. And although it is the month I came into this world many years ago, the beginning of March will always be stained with a sadness I am unable to remove. Two of the most important people in my life were taken away, and these three days in the month of March always deliver a swift punch to my gut.

As I recover from the annual blow, I will remember how much I was loved. I will fall back on the memories of their laughter and the fun we used to have. And I will take solace in the fact they would be overwhelmingly proud of me for pursuing my dream to have a published novel, with more on the way. Their smiles will be the light in these three days.

Where I find myself


My head is here,


lost in what looks like a painting.

Texture emulates emotion, freedom.

The horizon represents reality,

meeting effortlessly with creative indulgence.

There are no rules in the clouds.

My heart is here,


 swelling with emotion,

nurtured by nature and blessed by light,

comforted by the embrace of the essence of life.

free to move in a path that is meant only for me.

my words


(image courtesy of Google)


my words embrace me.

my words do not judge me from the outside.

my words speak volumes about who I am underneath.

my words define me in a way my speech never will.

my words convey an emotion that churns in the pit of my being.

my words will help you see who I truly am without the facade that I present.

my words are me.

my words allow me to speak with no sound.

my words allow me to feel with no pain.

my words are who I am and not who I pretend to be.

my words come from my soul and not from my mind.

my words drip with my emotion.

my words are rich with imagery.

my words are me.

my words bring me to a place of comfort.

my words help me find understanding.

my words draw characters in my imagination.

my words make those characters breathe life.

my words implore me to continue my journey.

my words free my creativity.

my words are me.