Slight Corners

I took a day off of work to spend with Lanie while her teachers went to a conference.  As is tradition for all Ward kids in Kindergarten, I spent the day doing what she wanted.  After a double block bike ride, we spent our free time at the zoo.

Last year, when Lanie and I spent a l-l-o-t-t of time together, this Houston day of fun would have been expected, run-of-the-mill, and most likely taken with a group of friends, and I would have rushed her to and fro and spent more time talking to the adults and letting the play date of kids take their own course.

But on this one Friday, with just me and Lanie exploring at our own pace, and with just each other to talk to, I learned something quite obvious.  When Lanie is in charge of an audience of one, life is simple.  She's a gem - easy-going, no dramatics.  With the exception of a rush to giraffe feeding time, we walked a slow step.  We waited in a line for expensive zoo food without complaint.  We spent an unusual amount of time watching bats eat apples, and an armadillo run, surprisingly fast, on spindly legs. And we could skip the snake and spider building, because who really likes to see that - not us.

I don't know if it was that day or maybe it's been happening without my notice, but I have this strange feeling that my Lanie, my "Oh, mercy - Lanie!" has turned a slight corner.  She seems just a little bit more grown up, a little bit more focused on school work, a little bit more independent, and just a little bit, well, easier.  And when you have our lifestyle, when on any given night we have 5 places to be, just a little bit easier is just what we need.

Life Doesn't Frighten Me

       Fifteen years ago today was a pretty rotten day.  No major details here, but if you've known me for any amount of time, then you know all about it.  It's my story about loss, about the moment a girl went from naively independent to embarrassingly dependent in the biggest ways.

      After the whole event, my counselor told me that I should read the police report I filed every year on the anniversary, the one with the freshest, most detailed play-by-play of that February 10th morning.  Her explanation that it would be helpful to remember what I've been through, and to see where I've come each year.  I always thought that was bad advice since I assume most people who have ever been attacked or violated in any way would prefer to stuff it away.   And I really don't follow her advice yearly, but I do like to commemorate the big ones - the 5 years, the 10 years, and I can hardly believe 15 years have passed.

     I like to remember because it gives me a chance to see God's hand in that moment as I begged the stranger to stop, as I prayed the Lord's prayer that sent him away.  I like to remember the wonderful people who walked into my life, and became my strength all because I didn't have any of my own.  And mostly, I give thanks that the damage done to me will not last forever.  I wrote this poem one night when I couldn't sleep in response to a Maya Angelou poem (in a 6th grade text book) about her childhood fear of the dark.  It's not high poetry, heck it's not even good poetry.  But I can sit here tonight on my computer and remember with such force how real my dragons were then, and how sharing a little of it with Maya Angelou seemed like the most natural escape. But all glory to God that time and so very many prayers from people I love have a way of softening a fearful heart and sending those dragons away.

So before this day ends, I want to give thanks to the people who were there, who slept on floors for me, who offered their home for me, and who knew, even when I didn't, that it was all in God's hands.

If I Could Be Maya (1999)

Life doesn't frighten her at all
She'd be so ashamed
I cower low.  I'm afraid
While she fights her daily dragons

Daylight shields my enemy
in solitude
This creature, omniscient -- haunts day and night
Sending  prickly,
                     chilly,
                          icy
Heart plummeting,
Breath catching
Sickness

When he captures his prey -- my imagination
Taken hold,
Flings my mind without care
No secret wall to hide behind, no fleeing from his claws

He stalks
Ste a d il y
In nooks and crannies of every room
Waiting
He overcomes.

Anger, not fully comprehended
A loss, not completely understood
A survivor - hands folded in prayer

"Only in my dreams," Maya says
The only times she's afraid
If it were only just that, Lord
If it were only just that.