This is the piece from Mom’s journal that so undid me last week. I think she asks — and answers — a question we each have asked about ourselves at least once as we grew.
June 29, ’99 2 PM
Today I feel profound. I’m not sure what I feel profound about, but something.
The sun is out, but not for long, and I’ve been turning the water on & off for Don to spray the fruit trees. It’s a bit windy.
My feet are bare and I’m standing in a small patch of soft dirt that feels so warm and good. I’m watching a “snake” lizard sunning himself on a large piece of firewood and thinking.
I’m thinking about that little girl I was so long ago with the loose black hair flying in the wind and running barefoot in the hot dirt.
She had a quick laugh & a too loud voice. But outside in the Summertime running barefoot, it seems to me now she felt wild & free & very happy.
Is she still here someplace deep inside? Of course she is. Why would I ever let her go?