#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream
Awake at 5:00, out by 7:30, this walk with a friend and our dogs, starting at Medfield State. It’s another glorious morning of sun shine from an October blue clouded sky over the still green meadow. We take the Charles Link trail that threads along the river with many stunning views of trees framing the water. Her parents are aging into a stage where they need extra time and care; I remember those years, they are gone now, but it seems like it must have been a full decade of supporting them through so many emotional and health challenges in their last years. The tug and pull of how much they needed weighed against how much I could, or wanted, to give. Perhaps because it’s the month of my birthday I have been missing them both. I would like to rub my father’s shoulders and hug him and see his smile. I would like to see my mother in her kitchen peeling and slicing apples, rolling her dough on the cutting board for pie. And, to smell cinnamon, baking. Today, I worked on my long essay, just a 750 word slice of it I have previously drafted, to bring to my group on Monday. Very flat. I just looked at the flat paragraphs for awhile waiting for an idea. Wondering what to do. Kind of at a loss. Couldn’t connect. And yet, it’s a piece of the story I’m trying to tell, so I won’t chuck it out. She was my friend, and I’m trying to tell her part of the story, but it was so long ago. So, today was spent trying to find a way to interest myself in it, remember something, and I sat at it until I did. It’s not all the way there yet, but I just wrote what came to me, and found, well, this is making it better for sure. I think because I haven’t seen her in so many years, and this was decades ago, the secrets are not on the surface. But I got enough to be excited about going back, not tomorrow, but Monday. Now, I feel like I’m looking forward to seeing her again, on paper. Huh. Funny, now I see the connection to the picture below, the shadow of me and my friend in the meadow this morning. And the shadow of me and another friend, in my memory of high school, so many decades ago.
All photos and text ©Kelly DuMar 2018