Adapted from my journal, written in Gulf Shores, Alabama
I’ve gone to many places where I feel hopelessly alone, a speck among the masses of life. I always feel bitterly afraid and angry, wishing there was something more, something real. And here I feel alone, but in a different way.
Forgiveness has been a long, necessary task, and it’s been essential in my healing as a child of divorce.
Most of my posts talk about the hurt I’ve endured and the healing I’ve experienced, but not much about forgiveness. The act of forgiveness has been an integral part of my healing process.
Friends, this poem won 3rd place in the poetry contest at this weekend’s All Write Now! conference. Enjoy!
Chicka-chicka-chicka
the pressure cooker prattles
on the avocado stove
while I help Grandma
set the table for ten.
One day in January of my junior year I was startled to hear a boy calling out my name in the hallway between classes. I literally jumped when he spoke to me. I knew him slightly; we had shared a few classes. There he was, asking me ON A DATE.
