Hi everybody! Things for this blog might seem odd for the next couple of weeks. I’m currently enrolled in Writing 201: Poetry. I guess I figure with Halloween coming up, why not conquer an extreme fear…
For the first assignment, I had to write a haiku.
The cool autumn day
feels like fall, though in my state,
What a character!
Margaret Elizabeth, my birthday girl,
Ten, and ears graying, with white eyelashes,
She sleeps a lot,
And that’s technically seventy,
An aging Corgi,
Yet my baby will always be my little baby,
No matter her age.
Can dogs smile?
Yes they can,
Nub, tail cut off at the quick, nub wags madly,
A glow in her eye,
A delighted expression on her face,
My daughter grabs a toy,
Thrilled that I’m home.
Every kid has done the “My Hero” essay in elementary school. I know I did, but elementary school was over twenty years ago and for the life of me I can’t remember who I picked. Some hero, huh? It was most likely a celebrity, or at least somebody well known.
I have grown up, obviously, since then. I realize now that my true hero was, and still is, Linda Tharp, my mother. Mom shaped me into who I am today: take no guff from anybody, but have a softer side. I got away with nothing as a kid. Between she and Dad, I remember spending a lot of time in my room, but the next day I would come home from school and the house would have a chocolaty aroma, brownies or chocolate chip cookies cooling on the counter.
But my favorite memory was in the summer of 1998. I was in the hospital recovering from a brain injury the doctors still can’t explain. Technically I was in a coma, but my brain was working like it always had. Mom and Dad came every day, Mom taking the morning shift. She would talk to me like as she always has, just filling me on the news at home or reading the newspaper. It was such a comfort. I just wish I could be Mom (at least to a human child, you’ll meet Maggie next) so I could show my daughter the type of love my mother has showed me.