genuine

You can always tell a loyal friend, not by what he confides in you about himself, but by what he does not confide in you about someone else.

a snow white reunion

Stacie was my best friend at the time. I was constantly over her house, playing with her and her cat. When the cat had kittens, I wanted one as much as she wanted to give me one, but mom said no. All my begging and pleading could not persuade her.

It was October and we were persistent. In a final attempt to have a kitten, Stacie gave me one as a gift for my birthday. Mom couldn’t refuse.

Her tiny body was covered in white fur from ear to tail, earning her the name 'Snow White'. She was however, no damsel in distress. She scratched after everything that moved, including toes and feet; found the couch useful for massaging her claws; and was our resident lizard-eradicator. She was my lesson in responsibility and, given the nature in which she arrived, I had no choice but to shoulder it.

Before long she became ‘our’ cat. She stayed with us for many years.

Her constant production of kittens was a problem, for others more than for me. I wanted her spaded. Mom chose to give her away. We kept one male cat from her last litter and when he no longer needed a mother, we placed her in a box and drove her many miles to her new home. I knew the family well, and though I was upset at her leaving, I knew she would be in good hands.

I had heard that dogs have owners and cats have homes, but those words never sank in till I saw my cat standing at the door a few days later. How she found the house, I will never know, I was only too happy to see her.

rock and hard place

I can feel you trying
trying me
trying to break me

I know you
I know you know my weakness
you use it against me

you want my rage
my hurt, my pain
my loathe, my hate

hate enough to harden
harden my heart
let go and walk away

but you'll have to try
try harder
harder than love

'There hath no temptation taken you but such as is common to man: but God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able; but will with the temptation also make a way to escape, that ye may be able to bear it.'
-1 Corithians 10:13

myopia

I was fine
until you
until you spoke.

haven't you done enough damage
why do you leave me alone
why don't you leave me alone

flight

…a word often accompanied by anticipation of receiving or being received by a loved one. Some are dreadfully afraid of it. Others get overly excited. Others have done it too many times to be either, just another necessary mode of transportation.

For me, this simple word causes a flood of warm memories. What seems like a lifetime ago, remembered like it was yesterday.

We were young. Getting out of bed in the morning was not our forte. My parents would chose one victim to wake and send to the shower, the rest would follow one at a time, each tagged by the previous. One lucky person would inevitably get to stay in bed the longest, but with the consequence of having the shortest time.

My dad is always on time.

If the smell of his cologne caught us in the bedroom, breakfast still uneaten, we knew we’d better stuff it, pack it, or leave it… but there was still time. However, once he stepped from the room, briefcase in hand, and announced the boarding and departure of the white Honda Accord, flight number equivalent to its licence plate, time was up.

That final boarding call was later shortened to one single word resounding from the same position at the top of the staircase every morning…

‘Flight!’

palabras por años

---tears-------------------silence
joy ---fears-----------quivers--games
--------dreams------- kisses
-------schemes-------hugs
------laughter------trust calls smiles
-----love ---------friends ------ music
--anger-------------family ------playing
-calm-----------------praying -hoping
excitement stares---------thanking

humbled

My problems negligible,
petty concerns,
when faced with the reality
that my country is at war
with itself.

God help us.

'...won't you help to sing
these songs of freedom
... redemption songs'
-Bob Marley

birds of a feather

A friend of mine told me once that I should have studied birds. I don’t doubt that he is right. I love birds. I love watching them. It’s something about the way they hop when they’re on the ground, and peck at their food, and sleep with their heads nuzzled in their feathers, and glide so gloriously and free in the air. And then of course, the way they travel in flocks – sort of how I would prefer to travel, always accompanied by friends.

I can’t say I have a favourite bird. I’m fascinated by quite a wide array of them. Of course the stately raven has a special place in my heart for reasons that may or may not be obvious. But long before any associations with a raven, in a successful musical attempt to get me smiling, my mother likened my childhood wailing unto that of a wren... Jenny wren.

Mrs Jenny wren, I have never, never heard
Such a very big voice for such a very tiny bird.
You sit on the post and you sing, and you sing,
You have a very big voice for such a very tiny thing...
Jenny wren

If I had a voice half the size as big as yours
I would never dear sing without shutting all the doors.
Or I would sing very softly for fear they should hear,
And hurry away and put a finger in each ear…
Jenny wren.

twenty-two foot rope

I hardly paid much attention at first. She came to church; I knew her face, but not her name. I don’t remember at what point exactly all that changed.

It seemed that we went from not knowing each other at all to being involved in every area of each other’s lives in a split second. Our common interests grew more numerous with time. A member of my godmother’s household, she became like a god-sister (if ever there were such a thing). We shared on the Youth Fellowship Council, were Hands in Symphony colleagues, Voices in Praise founding members, UWI Panoridim Double Tenor Divas, and of course share the best month of the year. Our lives crossed and intertwined, gradually strengthening the rope that continues to bind us, stretching and pulling all the facets of our lives into one simple yet complete description: friends!

Happy Birthday Le!

natural selection

'Mind the company you keep' - words from my mother. I didn't like them when first I heard them. I thought it was accusatory. Surely she wouldn't say it if she didn't feel I needed to hear it. Did it mean she thought some of my 'friends' unworthy? And if so, how dare she.

The older I get, the more I realize the wisdom of my mother. Of course I should mind the friends I keep. I am, after all, a product of the personalities to which I am so forcefully drawn. Though I am consistently described as my mother's child, I often find traits of my closest friends staring boldly at me through my own eyes.

Her words are even more important because of the regard I place on those I call my friends. I have been, and still am, the type that has the same friends for years. People who touched my life when my age was a single digit touch it still. And that number steadily increases with time. Walking away from someone who proves to be a bad influence after the fact is not something I would be at all good at.

Looking back, it seems I've instinctively taken my mom's words to heart, and lived by them. I thankfully get along with almost anyone, but I find that I honestly only regard a small subset as close friends.