Mud on the Wall

My daughters have a way of telling me that not only are we, as a family, not normal, but they wouldn't have it any other way.

Wednesday, May 17, 2006

Current Touch

Holding hands was somehow different than it had been before.

There was a subtle motion and new energy, a deliberate intent and vocabulary that had been missing for so many years, informing the crevasses and scars with electric promise.

There was the acknowleged passage of the burden of strength and a revival of discovery in the walk home.

There was so much left still unsaid, but there was a clear beginning and, for now, maybe that would be enough.


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