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LTAUS: The Sunset 100 Years Later

LTAUS: The Sunset 100 Years Later

Originally recorded on August 4, transcribed below. (Note: The recording cuts off because a lady came by walking her dog so I had to stop talking to myself.)

 

Where do I begin? How do I begin here, at your beginning?

Your country is beautiful. I’m watching it now—green and lush. The sun is setting, the grass golden and the flowers are white in the field. Crows and pigeons call to each other and fly from tree to tree. The cows graze. The whole neighborhood smells of manure, homely and thick.

This is your country, and it’s beautiful.

Is this what you fought for?

Is this who you fought for?

In the mud, and the gas, is this what you thought of?

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When Someone You Love is in Danger

When Someone You Love is in Danger

Let me start off by saying I’m not a professional. I’ve never had a counseling class, and this isn’t a post about “fixing” people. The list below are things that help me through trauma, but they may not be for everyone, and they are not a cure.

That being said, I’ve gained a lot of experience in having someone I love in danger.

Sometimes I can physically do something about the danger. For instance, if my Type 1 Diabetic sister is taking a shot on her bed and an unobservant teenager starts jumping on it, I can throw that teen across the room.

But other times the danger is a sort that I have no control over. I can’t…Continue Reading

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Rheumatoid Arthritis: The Pain Passes

Rheumatoid Arthritis: The Pain Passes

While in Paris, Mom, Laura and I went to Musée d’Orsay to see the Impressionist paintings. It wasn’t until I saw the first Renoir that I remembered he and I share Rheumatoid Arthritis. When I saw that first painting (I can’t remember which it was), his words rang in my head as if I’d just read them:

“The pain passes, but the beauty remains.”

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Fragments

fragments

I am listening to How He Loves and I am thinking of the evening we sat in the house and sang these words and listened to the helicopters fly by and to the children playing in the street. I am thinking of how I thought, He is here in the war and in the darkness. I am thinking of the warm glow of the room and how we didn’t know there was a scorpion in the cushions until later.

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Timesick

Timesick

Sometimes when I take a cab home from church, I stare out the window at nighttime Bath—all lit up and glowing and gold—and I feel a little sick. This city is beautiful and full of promise. It has been here for centuries. It will remain here for centuries.

It stays. I move.

It’s like I’m learning to miss it and I am still here.

I’ve started to recognize this feeling more and more. Perhaps because of the changing seasons, perhaps because my arthritis seems to be on the verge of flaring, perhaps because I can’t seem to shake this everlasting cold. But sometimes I stare out my window at the beautiful English countryside and I feel at once blessed…Continue Reading

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Another Chapter

leaving

The night before the big move, I had a bit of a panic attack. One moment I was thinking, “Oh my gosh, I’m going to have to eat dinner alone!” The next, I was grabbing the dog, Melly, and booking it up to my parents’ room. I blurted out all my worries because holding them in made me feel like I was going to throw up.

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Grandma Kathleen: Rough Poems

rose
This post is going to have a lot of poem drafts, and they probably won’t be award-winning quality. I find it a lot easier to write about this experience through poems, so that’s how I’ve been journaling it. I think that writing about this will be easier by using what I’ve already journaled.

The weekend before I left for Boston, we found out my Grandma Kathleen was dying. I think I got the call on Friday. In the early hours of Monday morning, she was gone.

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