
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.
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.
In October 1993 I couldn’t stuff my dark feelings inside any longer. My deep down place, the one where I had crammed my feelings, overflowed that fall.
Like many children of divorce, I had to deal with the distressing situations my parents’ remarriages presented. All of those transitions introduced significant challenges in my life, but they also created opportunities for my faith to flourish.
This is my writing process for transforming painful memories into poems.
I go to my journals and immerse myself in those feelings. Then I pull out a photo from that time period.