Thoughts

Thoughts

For Deborah who taught me to ‘just write’

Sun on my keyboard

Swirling thoughts in my mind

Just write and see what comes

Unlocked by letters on paper

My family keeps messing with the dictionary on my phone

Replacing names with descriptions of each other

“The short one” needs paper

College ruled because she’s “not a kid anymore”

My mothers “favoritest grandson Noah” is delighted

His faction won 300.00 last night

“The annoying child” was up forever

Because she had to make a list of books everyone should read

She thinks they all need to be college level

I think everyone should read Where The Red Fern Grows

“My lobster” built a spaceship that kept exploding on the launchpad

But it had tons of parachutes to bring it home

I am supposed to be reading Eudora Welty right now

It’s wonderful, but I can’t concentrate so i’m writing

I’m probably going to get an offer from the job I don’t want

And never a call from the one I do

I am in a war with the black flies invading my house

And the rat in the basement and the mouse on my porch

Really the mouse isn’t hurting anything and I feel friendly towards him

But soon it will be winter and he will sneak inside.

I wish my bathroom plumbing wouldn’t leak

I love the big chair in my diningroom but I have an image of the bathtub

Falling through the ceiling where the paint is peeling away

And crushing the person sitting there

When I said I wanted to see my son sing in another country

I meant Europe where he just graced the Basilica in Spain

I have a fleeting hope to settle for seeing him in Canada next year

But know how likely it is that I will be watching him on YouTube once again.

I would give my right hand to hear Anna’s symphony

In Germany next summer before I wave goodbye to my senior

I comfort myself by dreaming of following lexi on the college gymnastics circuit

As that is years away maybe I can travel the country by then

I watch my children experience the world from my couch

I am happy for them and broken that I can’t share it with them

I wish the yoga in my DBT program would calm me today

But it never does because I am always nervous about the discussion time that follows it.

I will not have time to finish my homework before I get my kids from school today

And it will be pulling teeth to get anything out of my ADD brain once they’re here

There are appointments that need to be made

And bills to pay that I am avoiding for no reason at all

There is new insurance to try to understand

And the terror that it will not cover the therapist that I now love

My dryer was quickly repaired, a blessed gift

But now my washer is repeating its cycle over and over

When I write like this I assume the mind that Deborah Keenan gave me

Years ago in a writing class that set me free from convention

I wish my family would replace my own name in their phones

I have no idea whom I would be.

Waking

Waking

The light flickers over closed eyes

let in by the mini-blinds rising slowly

on a white room with a sweaty smell.

Pain crackles through her head

but the warmth of the sun seeps in

and life slips in through a sunbeam.

Worried eyes brighten as she looks up,

grasps the hand in hers,

and fights to smile through lessening pain.

Her breath whispers naturally in her lungs,

blood throbbing in her head,

the battle for oxygen now ended.

Slowly the tide of agony is receding

taking with it fear and anguish

and the clawing certainty of death.

The oxygen to her brain is a rush,

a crazy high that she now floats on,

reveling in the ability to think.

“It’ll be better today” his gentle voice tells her,

“The swelling went down and everything is fine.

Are you hungry?”

The sweet idea of a first meal

tempts her with the promise that was lacking

at what she thought would be her last.

“Donuts”, she whispers. “I want donuts.”

She thinks only of frosting and cold Izzys

sending sugar into her veins.

When the doctor goes, the nurse remains.

She looks over at her patient, tired eyes

from a night of careful watching and prayers.

The girl knows she stayed long past her shift end

unwilling to pass off her unstable patient

to anyone who wouldn't pray.

She is upset that the girl is alone,

but the relief on her face says she can go now

and return again later to be sure.

“Thank You.” She tries to speak louder,

her dry throat and pounding head

pushing her voice away from her.

A cool cloth wipes her face for the hundredth time

but the smile is genuine now,

as she brushes the girl’s hair back from her neck.

When she goes the girl is sad

but brightens as the day shift breezes cheerily

into a no longer somber room.

The sugar smell of the donut

and the aroma of orange juice comes with her

washing over the girl in lovely waves.

“No carbonation today I’m afraid,

but Izzys tomorrow. I promise,

even if I have to sneak it in.”

The nurses laugh is like church bells ringing

and the gratitude for this small offer

touches her deep down.

The confection is amazing even in tiny bits,

the juice sweet and cold,

and the world awash with possibility.

“No more morphine if we can help it.

Motrin today.” Her voice holds authority

but reassurance as well.

The girl trusts her already and nods.

“Take my IV out?” she pleads.

The nurse considers.

“Drink a pitcher of water before dinner

and i’ll take it out before I go. Deal?”

“Deal” she readily agrees.

The door seals shut when she goes

protecting her from everything it can

that could ruin this very first new day.

Her eyes search through the window,

then sink shut in a healing sleep

all decisions waiting for another day.

Fire

Fire

The sun dawned.

The fire in those eyes ignited.

Flashed hot and alive.

Alive.

Set free to take a world by storm.

Today is huge.

Today I won the game.

Today I am new.

I was certain this day was not possible.

I have been for years.

I fought for it anyway.

Fought to the death to wear those fiery eyes.