Friday, October 21, 2011

It's OK

It's late on this Friday and I don't know what to write. 

I don't know what to write. 
I don't know what to write. 

I think, 
share the short story that bubbled out the other day, the one about a character named Miriam...

write about the walk through the old cemetery where you found this headstone with the words, 

It's OK 

That was a low day for me, even with the bright sun and the soft, warm air. Wandering among worn stones reminded me of my mother, a Modern Miss Marple, a super sleuth who loved history, genealogy, and strolling through graveyards. 

Deep missing pangs settled into my chest until I saw, 

It's OK

Ah, a message from the other side, I thought. 

From Paulette.

It's OK isn't something I've seen on a grave stone and I've done plenty of walking through graveyards, being my mother's daughter And father's too. His childhood playground was the cemetery behind my grandfather's church where George Washington's soldier boy is buried in Germantown, Philadelphia.

Since I don't know what to write, It's OK is my Friday message. Even if part of me doubts this, that feels things, life? the world? have become too complicated for my thin-skinned, sensitive self, I will take Paulette's word for it. And imagine my mother whispering, it's ok, over my shoulder. I'll save Miriam's story for another day and wish you a fine weekend with It's OK. 

This Being Alive
will be off for the weekend
to rake leaves 
keep my eyes open for the mother turkey and her two children
and root my Jesse on as she runs her first half-marathon.

go gently, dear reader.

xo b


  1. Keep saying it Bets, one day it will feel right, one day you'll feel it in your bones. If nothing else, we can hold on to the hope that it will be ok.

  2. Thanks so much for dropping by and for your good thoughts.

    xo b