I’m struggling with so much in the brain to write about but wanting to do it justice and so in the meantime I bring you a commercial break of sorts with Shorts from Shorts which are really teeny tiny vignettes from Shorts I am writing, have written or am working on.
I wear my freckles with pride. They are a constant reminder of my family-both sides were freckly. My Nan called them beauty marks and if mine keep multiplying the way they do I’ll be drop dead gorgeous in a few years.
Cheek to pillow, rosy, looking almost flushed against the contrast of the crisp and white pillowcase. Wisps of hair masquerading as tired ringlets yet ready to spring into action if necessary. Lying there. Sleep is for the innocent it is rumoured. Are we not all innocent when we sleep? Free at least or at peace even if only in a dream? “Look at her, she’s dead to the world,” she whispers, tucking the blanket under her tightly, as if for protection, and repositioning her favourite stuffy, to keep watch into the night.
But some might say she jumped out of the darkness. It’s all a matter of perspective really.
“He didn’t mean it. He knew what he was doing. He didn’t know what he was doing. I don’t know. He doesn’t know. He can’t tell us. It’s not what he wanted. To be silent like that.“
It’s all I know. All I was told. With some truth sprinkled here and there but mostly stories, lies and secrets. To protect perhaps but who needed the protecting? Was it me or was it them? All I know is that it is suffocating, deafening, black and feels dead.
On June 7, 2000 my daughter Brynn Elizabeth Rainbow was born! She decided to show up just after 8 pm and what a shock to see a beautiful and pink little (well okay, at 10 pounds 2 ounces maybe not) baby girl!
She is strong-willed in the best way. A leader, advocate for what is right and fair and especially with her friends. She is the sparkle in my eye-with eyes that resemble my own mother’s. She gets her personality traits from her mother and father-a good balance on most days:)
Energetic, creative, inspiring, a dreamer, an ideas girl, a hockey player, super fast runner, a ballerina, a painter, a storyteller, a filmmaker and more!
She’s our quadruple threat!
Happy Birthday Brynnie!!!!!!!! Welcome to the TEENS:)
To say that the last two months have been
horrible challenging, would be an understatement. No rainbow, no moment of brilliance, no light. Just a tunnel…until this past weekend.
I was attending a memorial for my Uncle Buddy, also my godfather, and had traveled to Toronto and into a melee of family issues and more.
Artist Tom Anderson (14 yrs) 1959
My dad, in his short life of 28 years, was an artist and over the years I have been fortunate to receive some of his early works via relatives that are unearthing their own lost treasures as they transition their lives, downsize and more. And with that comes the offerings-of a glimpse into my father’s art-his life-his perceptions and mostly his short-lived gift of art.
This painting in particular was exciting to receive as I had heard about the ‘Jesus’ painting and even have about 13 seconds of old film footage of my dad working on THIS canvas. This also how I learned that my artist father, who quoted Kahlil Gibran and always had music playing, was left-handed. So much learned in just one visual.
Back of painting notes
And like me, the painting has a bit of wear, due to its journey and time spent. But it’s nothing a little TLC can’t fix.
I’m over here today talking about texting and driving. You don’t do you?
Sister & Brother
I have a lot to say right now. It’s just not ready to come out. I’m thinking and writing but until I get it out the way I want to, I will be consumed by it.
I know that some of my fellow writers get that-being consumed by a character or a scene or new story idea. For me this is non-fiction and I want to tell a story that is truthful-my truth- and not worry so much about others.
Censoring writing makes it contrived-my opinion.
This story is mine and I will tell it.
Will you tell yours?
Ed Note: This is a poem my brother James wrote to me on May 8, 1998 before our first meeting. He was living in Korea.
To My Lovely Sis:
There is nothing more precious that I could receive than news of you
We are the same yet different
God has granted me a blessing that I don’t deserve
Yet I do
All my life I knew you were there
Only I assumed you were an angel, nothing new
But someone tapped me on the shoulder and whispered in my ear that I must look for you
For you had looked for me
And eventually I for you
And the heavens opened up for us
For this that we have been granted in the great scheme of things
And now that I know you
I’ll never let you go
All this time I knew that you were there
My mother had not left me
She left me herself on this earth
And told me to be calm…
My daughter and my son