The Highway Halfway Mark I wonder, I do. I cannot help but wonder what’s down the road from the place I have ever truly called home. The wood and grass and nails and bolts, the wet familiar dew smells and giggling baby sounds. The joy and the sorrow. I can’t help but observe and wonder. The funny, peculiar, crooked way of seeing the world that is all my own. The structure has cracks, fissures, and deep
I wonder what dreams you gave up so that we could follow ours? I wonder how much pain we caused, and yet you never complained. And what about before us, when you had your own first family? You provided shelter, comfort food, and stability when you lost your own mother so young. That must have been hard, and yet you carried yourself with grace and grit. You have been carrying
Please do not underestimate the fragile girl who has been broken. The grown woman climbs barbed wire fences unapologetic, her jagged and cut limbs battle cries that honor the scars. Bleeding profusely shrugging off the pain, she is awake and determined. The girl is immune to the swirling, incessant noise hovering overhead. Simply choosing to embrace the beautiful and worst kinds of misery. Nah, man she’s better than wasted breath.
As I sat across from my mother and really looked at her face and tiny frame, I saw her age, frailty and worry lines for the first time. Her life has not been easy. It has been fucking brutal. She has endured and cared for too many loved ones suffering from mental illness. Every decade of her life has been spent caring for a loved one, someone other than herself.
This picture popped up in my memories today on Facebook and made me smile. Michel and I fought, a lot. He thought I was spoiled. I was. We argued, a lot. I’d only learn in time and the passing of years what he meant. I learned so many lessons from him. How to live a simple life, to love and respect nature, to take long walks everyday, (like ten miles
I cannot walk through the grief for you. I would if I could. I cannot cry the tears that pour like a fountain. I would if I could. I cannot understand the pain, the weight, the fear and the messy emotions that consume your broken heart. Grief is yours, and only yours. The love never dies, no one can take that from you. Loss. I would carry that burden, I
One Times Four The Cove, there was no other place Georgia wanted to be. She loved summers at the beach with her pops. Georgia pulled the rocker close to her grandfather’s, almost touching. She needed to be near, reassured by the sounds of his breathing. Side by side, gliding back and forth. She had nowhere to go, nowhere she’d rather be. Mostly, she rocked while he nodded off. He was
5.0 out of 5 stars GEORGIA PINE by Jacqueline Cioffa GEORGIA PINE (Kindle Edition) “An amazing read. The author weaves tragedy, love, family, suspense and disappointment into an amazing story. I have not read The Vast Landscape yet but after this, I know I’ll be adding it to my list of must read books. This is great fictional account of a tortured soul in the form of a fast-paced story painted
These Modern Ties By Jacqueline Cioffa You know what I despise sometimes? ‘Visualize your best life,’ social media posts. If only you meditated longer, dreamt bigger, brighter and better… a gulf stream, rolls royce and diamond solitaire would magically appear via Amazon. All your grandiose desires, jubilee shrieks and pixie dust sparkle whims before you and not behind. If I were a blonde, bombshell genie in a magic bottle… I’d obliterate global warming, nukes, little girls with shredded
In His Boots The mementos we hold on to, heirlooms we choose not to discard and throw away. All the traditional, routine ways we try to live inside the memory of someone, some one precious, beloved. To feel them near in the physical awhile longer can seem foolish and nonsensical. It’s ridiculous to think an oversized, outdated, uncomfortable pair of black boots with fleece lining and thick rubber soles hold