Thank you to Sarah for this “Selfie” dVerse prompt. Writing lately for me comes and goes, so it’s brilliant when something actually sparks inside of me.
I didn’t choose a photo but a song for this post. I’m trying to remember to be a smiler…look on the bright side.
Recently I unearthed photos as you do when life’s bounty explodes, needing containment, (or discarding) discovering for the most part I’ve been a smiler, laugher-- pictures never find you pensive sad, except for one, where I held a striped bass on a fishing line, me: red faced, tears streaming-- we let the bass go. And from nine to now: that’s who I am. A smiler, bright side of life. Except lately, mourning my pup with floods of tears does it show? Seventh grade, two girls questioned me about Daddy’s death, I shrugged, smiled subterfuge. They responded: “Don’t you care?” And where do you take that? Cry in the middle of the playground? Bemoan a travesty of life? Or bite your lip? Let them think what they will? I have not let the years be kind to me. Never one to ogle a mirror, snap selfies yet one always trying to be fit, (or fit enough) age laughed, time guffawed knowledge I was ignorant of. Never let your guard down. When you’re fifty, not twenty, your body no longer forgives nor does time. Behave recklessly, recovery echoes for days--no months-- until you think it’s impossible. I weep still for the passing of my Scout. Crickets sing, the kitchen clock ticks seconds. I expect answers in wee hours. I still own my life.