Some days, I run around like Wonder Woman, whipping my lightening bolt and slaying dragons.
Some days, the buckles on my shoes defy me.
Some days, I leap on the stepper and do my ten minutes like a rock star.
Some days, I put on my grandmother’s pink house coat and eat crystallized ginger by the handful.
Some days, the dog’s silly look amuses me and I take her picture to send my son.
Some days, my feet trip over the dog’s water dish which my blurry eyes have not seen.
Some days, I hammer out paragraph after paragraph of brilliant prose.
Some days, words elude my grasping, exhausted brain.
Some days my heart swells with belief in possibility.
Some days I want to throw myself through a plate glass window.
* * *
My grandmotherused to tell me to put my best foot forward. I would look down at my shiny new penny loafers which she had just purchased for me at the shoe store next to her office. I would pause on the curb and say, Which foot is my best foot, Nana? She would reply, The one going first.
It’s the eleventh day of the thirty-second month of My [Never-Ending] Year Without Complaining. Life continues.
I wish I had a picture of me in penny loafers. I loved them! These remind me of the ones Nana bought me. I always donated the pennies to the Mission collection at our grade school (I’m ashamed to say this but we called it “Pennies for Pagans”).
Brilliant! I read it over and over. Such strong visual imaging. Please stay away from plate glass windows, my friend. The world needs you. Penny’s for Pagans! Rotflmao! We’ve come a long way baby. My grandma was my mainstay and I liked hearing a little about yours.
Grandmas are wonderful. They rarely think you’ve done anything wrong and even if you do they don’t freak out like your parents might.
This one belongs in that book of prose you are writing . . . It’s a keeper!