The Kids

Chris. Sam. Gus. Mary Claire. George. Coffee and a Mac and words tumbling through my brain. Mint chocolate. Pajamas, preferably cozy PJ pants and an old t-shirt. My beautiful forever friends. Loud laughter. Quiet nights by the fire. Books. Books. More books. Great fiction. Vacations. Kindness. St. George Island. A cabin in the woods. An Adirondack chair by a lake. Fall colors. Reeses peanut butter eggs or trees or hearts. Chocolate chip cookie dough. A heavy pour of a good Cabernet. Dave Matthews, John Mayer, and Barry Manilow. Lyrics written by The Indigo Girls. Watching Modern Family with my family. The unconditional love of my dogs. And the feel of their fur. My mom. My family. The way Jocey wrinkles her baby nose when she smiles. Pumpkin patches and cinnamon smells in the fall. A book on the beach with the ocean at my toes. Glorious sunsets. San Francisco. Apothic Red. Pesto. Holding hands. Sappy love songs. Hugs. The satisfying smack of a softball in my glove. Singing at the top of my lungs in the car. Family game nights. Watching my kids sleep. Three-hour lunches and spinach-artichoke dip. Kick-ass shoes. Looking through old photos. Sitting in comfortable silence with a friend. Walks through the woods. John Denver’s Christmas album. Dog dreams. Julia Glass. An unexpected windfall. Anonymous giving. The city of Indianapolis. Ambient restaurants. The warmth of a campfire. Fuzzy socks. A heartfelt compliment either given or received. Great quotes. Life is Good apparel. Curley Girl. The way I feel after a run. Nailing a three-pointer… still. Peanut butter M&Ms. The first sentence. Coffee mugs. Having my hair washed at the salon. A hot stone massage. The color blue. Taking risks. The St. Vincent’s NICU nurses. Slow dancing with my husband. Lip gloss. Listening to my kids laugh. The smell of freshly mown grass. A good summer storm. Front porches. Outdoor kitchens. New Orleans. Angels. Date nights. A clean house. Warm, buttered bread. Tuesday lunches with The Girls. New friends who instantly become old friends. Unlimited possibilities. Learning. Growing. Becoming. Hallmark cards. My iTunes playlists. Wrapping up in a cozy blanket. Meeting my kids’ friends. Kisses on the lips. Picking out new glasses. Sunshine on my face. Offering a crying shoulder. The warm embrace of a loved one. Smiling at strangers. Dyptique Do Son perfume. Going to the movies. Butterflies. Parties. My blue chair. Libraries. Candles. The next breath.

~~~

This post was written in response to Amy Oscar’s Writing Circle prompt, “Things I Love in 400 Words.”

Share This Post

2 Responses

  1. Loving this and YOU!!!! I’ll come up for air later and try it. What a great idea. I miss you!!!!! Julie, Lynn, and Ellen are coming over for drinks Wednesday night. 8:00pm. Be here in front of the fire to laugh with us. Or Skype??

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Sign up for my mailing list

More To Explore

Happy Holidays. (Or Not.)

Society says we should be jolly and happy and thankful and joy-filled during these days. Commercials tell us to feel the magic and the wonder. But we don’t all feel it. Some of us feel hollowed out. Some of us feel lonely. Some of us feel the weight of having a double-digit bank account or mounting credit card bills. Some of us watch cheesy holiday movies and feel that we’re not enough, that we don’t measure up.

Some of those people are me. Some might be you.

Love and Gratitude

When I was younger, I believed a family was easy to define: A mother, a father, the children, a pet or two. I spent most of my life building that kind of family—the kind that had been modeled to me, the kind that I read about in my beloved books.

Poor As a Church Mouse

In this forced season of unemployment (300+ applications and not one interview. Seriously.), I have finally learned to slow down a bit. I spend long days writing my memoir and working on my next book. It is a luxury I’ve never had.