by Ann Evans
Giver of directions…
So I’d plot out the route
Marked in red ink
Write down the major turns
By highway names…
Clutched in my hands
From the back seat
I’d tell Dad, “NOW there is a turn,
Just up the road, make a left, …”
I was quite brave
For often Dad would say
“here, or is it up there…”
I’d clutch the map, looking up the road…
Usually, all worked out well
Except our first trip
To see my Mother’s sister
Just moved to Griffin, GA…
I can still remember
Dad had worked all day
We were sitting on ready
As he came in, we loaded up…
Rushing to get on the road
We had a long, six hour trip,
It would be
a near midnight arrival time…
All two lane roads,
Down to Birmingham we headed
Then onto H’way 78 East
Winding across north Alabama…
Mom & Dad up front
Two kids in the back, ages 6 & 12,
My map clutched tightly
In hand, watching signs all along the way…
Then we turned onto GA H’way 16
Unfamiliar territory, winding road,
Approaching eleven,
Everyone tired, out of sorts…
Then I made a wrong decision
Dad asked “Is there a turn,
Do we go left or stay straight here”
I panicked, looking at map, looking at the road ahead…
‘Turn left’, but as I said it
I knew it was wrong
He turned, I reviewed the map
‘Um…. Dad… I think I was wrong…”
We had gone a few miles
So he had to turn around
Tired, out of sorts,
I was so desolate, humiliated…
We eventually got there
On the right street
But house numbers
At midnight are hard to read…
So I was out of the car
Walking down a gosh awful dark street
Trying to read house numbers
At the end of a long, long, long drive…
Eventually we got there
As I walked up to the door
With Mother’s words echoing in my head
“Now, she has a gun… so make sure she hears you!”
Defining me
Defining the person living within –
Once there was the child
Daughter of my parents
Struggling to define self...
Next came the adolescent
Learning, rebelling, expanding
Self-expressive growth
Separating into individual...
Young adult progressed
Knowledge embraced endeavors
Expanding, focusing, reaching
Encompassing future potential ...
Somewhere in the 'middle' years
from valley existence to mountaintop celebrations
Life was lived in accumulations
Surviving the daily existence....
From crisis to crisis
Conquering the 'daily grind'
Teaching, meetings, changes
Productive life force sought to be...
Daughter, single person, secret poet, teacher,
Wife, Mother, divorced person, poet in hiding,
Single parent, retired, part-time professor, poetic expressor;
Labels, all inclusive, yet not quite descriptive...me!
Fellowship
Tuesday mornings
Marks the time
When we gather together
Making something together ...
The material... donations…
Others participate by giving
Yards & yards & yards of material…
Colorful, joyful, & varied...
The group number goes up
And down, ladies coming
When they can...
Cutting out, stitching, & laughing ...
Some of artistic nature
Draw faces, numerous faces,
Some stuff & stuff & stuff...
Talking, laughing, & sharing...
Everyone has a contribution
Each one had a talent
Diverse, united... yet a single goal
Making Mission dolls, fellowship ...
Cry me a river
There have been times
When tears were released
In torrents of grief
From the depth of my soul...
Cry me a river
Of soul wrenching
Distressing, depth of expression,
Intensely flowing, sobbing flow...
Eventually, in resolution,
The flowing water of tears
Would come to an end
A sobbing, no more water to flow...
Depth of painful release
Washing of my soul
Peaceful tranquility filled
Calmness engulfed, quiet remained...
As exhaustion washed over me
Releasing a restfulness
A relaxing of stressfulness
A white peace of spirit would fill me...
Turning over the burden
Of life & living
To something stronger
Than simply me...
To release
To rest in
To be more
Than just me...
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Connect with the author at:
Web site: Ann Evans
Facebook: Excursions in Daily Living
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