Skip to main content

Spring/Fall 2020


Nenhuma descrição disponível.


Fall in the United States, Fall in the Midwest, my favorite season. When it is Fall there, it is Spring where I am., but Spring where I am is not at all what you would imagine. A dry season. So dry your skin looks gray, your lips crack and your nose bleeds.  It may even make you think of Fall (there) with the carpets of leaves covering sidewalks and parks. You can see them running together when the wind blows the earth beneath them. They run and fly, a few inches from the ground, in a wave of browns and ochers. Spring, here is no time for all flowers. I've said it before and it is true: Flowers here bloom at their will, at their own chosen times. Except for the Ipês. Ipê flowers bloom when all seems lost and dry. They bloom and they are a spectacle!

I call them pompom flowers. First, come the pink. There was a tree right in front of the building we used to live. Then, come the yellow, my mother's favorite. Finally, trees are covered by white pompons, which remind me of cherry blossoms and of when I came out of the hospital after losing my first born. 

Here, Spring has begun once more.  And I miss swimming this year. Certainly. because I can't and because water has proven to be so soothing and healing to my thirsty soul.  And in a moment of insane boredom in this strange endless year, I stood on my back porch and wondered: "What if I start digging up a swimming pool in the yard with my own hands?" To which my mind added: "I bet if you do it with a tea spoon you will still have time to swim in it!"  My mind...  

Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

I upset people (This may be the first of a series)

I feel I upset many people. Maybe it is something I do, but the feeling I get is that what upsets them is the way I live, the choices I make. People get upset with me when they hear I don't believe in God. If I tell them that I once did, but have lost my faith after I lost my first child, a premature baby, they fail to grasp the complexity of it. They look at me with irritating condescendent pityful eyes and they think I can be "fixed." To be fair, maybe I fail to help them understand that after what happened to me, God as I came to know it and most people of Christian beliefs do, is of no use to me.  God proved himself either nonexistent or useless to me when my first born died and when I almost followed him due to Eclampsia and Hellp Syndrome (Go ahead and google it! Unless you are doctor or had someone in the family who had this, you will never know it.) He did not save my baby and he did not spare me the excruciating suffering I had to endure. And if you think I...
4 comments
Read more

The child that did not stay

I remember expecting a child that never came, a child I never held in my arms. I remember expecting a child who would have his father's hair, his kind eyes.  He would be curious of the world and I would follow closely all the things he would see with enchanted eyes. Everything would be new for his new eyes. Those were the words of a song about someone else's child, a song I used to listen to while waiting for this child. I remember dreaming of his future, of his smiles. I remember my hopes for him. He did not want me, this child. He did not stay.  He was not interested in the playground in front of the building we live. He was not interested in having my hand holding his while he walked his first steps. He did not care about the flowers, leaves, little dry sticks that fall from the trees in our neighbourhood. He did not want to listen to the slightly out of tune lullabies I was going to sing or the stories I would read at bedtime. He did not even care for the milk, all th...
1 comment
Read more

No espelho

  Olhei hoje para o espelho e me vi mais serena, me enxerguei com mais leveza. Não que esteja de fato mais leve, eu acho. Ou será que estou? Tenho ainda infinitas incertezas e dúvidas aos milhares, mas a imagem que me olhou de volta do espelho, não me olha com tristeza, dor pânico.     A imagem que vejo nesse espelho é de     calma, no olhar certa paz, talvez de se entender humana, imperfeita e aceitar essa condição.     Aqui, deste lado que estou, me observando no espelho, sinto ainda o coração encolher como se uma mão o quisesse esmagar. Encolhe-se para sobreviver e expande-se em seguida. Ao encolher-se, a respiração dá uma pausa e uma bolha de cristal sobe em refluxo, pausando ali no meio da goela. Assim que pode, o coração retorna a seu pulsar, seu ir e vir. Permanecem ali as dúvidas, as exigências, as demandas, mas também os desejos de só ser, irresponsavelmente ser e atender a cada quimera. Porque a vida é curta! A vida é sopro!    E o ...
Post a Comment
Read more