Secret Code

I haven’t posted lately.  I’ve been busy writing in my personal journal.  I normally make a journal when I travel.  I get it ready beforehand, put stickers, blank notes and whatever comes to mind.  This time I added some origami paper I found at a resale shop.

My Little Ponies!

I started doing it just for the fun of it.  Now, I realize it inspires me to write.  I look forward to the colors and images.  This soft journal, I readied for my trip to Tennessee, has a cover, I duck-taped on, with a Michigan State University logo. 

MSU Journal and My Glasses

My trip’s difficult to put in words.  It’s personal.   A real writer, I guess, would say, “If you can experience it, you can write about it.”  Crap!!  I AM a real writer.  I’ve already set the premise, with my readers, I see with Stain-glass Eyes.  So, here I go.

Sitting, walking, yoga-ing, hugging, laughing.  

Cooking, sewing, writing, laughing.  

Movie watching, hugging, shopping, planting.

Texting, laughing, swimming, sharing.  

Hugging, validating, storytelling. 

Memory-making, laughing, memory-sharing, crying.

Origami Paper With Fish Sticker

I’m honored to have a chance to be a part of Jeannie’s life.  She’s always been my big sister.  She treats me as an equal.  She doesn’t judge me for scribbling out things, on my list of things to do.

I don’t judge her for rewriting hers. Only being with her can I observe our “Sameness”.  And see our “Differentness”.  

Seeing those like-traits are like seeing my own child do something the same way as I do.  It makes my heart burst with love.  My soul laughs and hugs her.  Not only does it make me happy, it authenticates my existence.  It’s like seeing myself take my first steps, learn to talk, solve a problem and endear myself to those I love. 

I see how she puts her hand up to her chin, with two fingers spread open by her mouth, when she is thinking.  I notice how she stares off into space when she’s left me for awhile.  

I stand with my mouth open in disbelief, when she says, “We’ll leave here at 6:45 a.m. to walk”.  I laugh when she appears in her flannel pajamas as a statement, “The day is done, time to relax!”   No doubt, no dispute. 

But, if I did dispute?  She’d be on it.  She’d be game, no matter how worn out she is from playing on the floor with her grandchildren, spending three hours in a sewing class, or cooking a dinner to share with her daughter’s family.  

She unknowingly teaches me.  She acknowledges learning from me.  It’s giving and receiving.  The moments we have together can never be taken away.  The secrets we share have a code no one can decipher. 

We both feel anxious as the days together disappear.  We both feel sad when, inevitably, they end in goodbye. 

Sounds like love, right? It is.