There is direction, there is interpretation and then there is Fin. “Give me a thumbs up, Ave.” “Now you, Fin.” And, scene. .
Categories: Mama Sap
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She is all blessing, all the more so for how often I forget and remember anew. Wrinkles over a nose that carries me back, reflections of ages I remember. Echoes of me, but better. Her eyes defy description, wide and luminous one moment, sly and bottomless the next. Her mouth a riddle, little dimples on either side and lips that purse and pucker, grin and scowl. The sounds of her voice cast a robust shadow from throaty to thunderous and the feel of her skin on mine sends whispers to core. Whether nursing or scrapping, her touch resurrects the oneness of pregnancy, toes fluttering to hands over my belly, new beginnings and love-at-first-sight. I don’t know if this is the gift of being the…
Categories: Mama Sap
I am not ashamed to admit that for every five books I read, I turn ahead to the last part in at least 4. I like knowing, somehow if I know that the hero is triumphant, the love is requited or that the child is saved, I can more easily enjoy the story. I suppose to some this may mean that I am not getting the full effect of the book, I will comfortably say, it’s my choice. More and more I am learning how little a say I have in life. I can impact journeys, shape beginnings, but, when it comes down to it, I cannot change endings. The layers between loss have become more slender, the stretches of time between one passing…
Categories: Love