The Raccoon, and a Letter...

Something incredible happened to me tonight.

Two incredible things in fact! 

Small delights that reminded me,

like a tap on the shoulder, or a string tied round my finger,

that the world is a pretty amazing place. 

You see, I've had a lousy couple of weeks.

A real stinker of a 14 day stretch. 

Too much idle time spent wondering, worrying and waiting-

without, as a friend would say, 'the worth it.'

I was walking home from work tonight; it was just past dusk, 

when melon sky of the day has just about settled into it's sleep

and the evening air begins to tickle the skin.

I was lost in my thoughts, shuffling along, when all of a sudden,

a little raccoon sauntered in front of my path!

He stopped at the corner, 

waved a little paw in my direction and then went on his merry way. 

I stood there, stunned and a little dumbfounded.

image 

I'm a big believer in totems, and this one, my friends,

rules the roost! 

My whole family shares a penchant for these masked little critters. 

I called sisters and parents straight way to share the news. 

'It's a sign of new beginnings,' my dad claimed across the country.

With extra pep in my step, I soldiered on home.

And waiting for me in the mailbox was a letter. 

A letter that traveled from the eastern seaboard, to the coastline of California.

It was from an old friend who is embarking on some new beginnings of her own.

She chronicled her changes in a loose cursive script. 

I think she needed some time to get comfortable with these new adjustments, 

to see how they felt.

I clutched the letter to my chest and let the tears slip down my cheeks.

A nudge, in a letter. 

A shoulder tap from a furry friend.

Both of these little surprises were the spoonful of sugar I needed

 to kick my case of the navy blues.

Isn't the universe so special like that? 

xo

 

Spring Yet?

I don't mean to rush you along, 

but Mother Nature, 

is it spring yet? 

image 

The most complete cure for the February blues 

is fresh air and sunshine, 

flower buds,

 and the chirp of a bird.

 Please come soon.

xo

Oh Cuuuuupiiiiid

Today, I'd like to be skipping around,

flinging fistfuls of glitter doilies 

and conversation hearts 

into the air.

It doesn't matter if you have 

a true love valentine, after all! 

You can love your dog,

and tortoiseshell hair clips, of course! 

conversation hearts created here 

You can love your sisters and pretty pink pastries,

and little goats wearing daisy chains.

You can love arugula- the best leafy green! 

You can love many a things. 

So shout it to the sky today, friends.

Point that painted finger at Cupid and his gold dipped arrow.

Let your heart holler:

I LOVE YOU BIG, OLD WORLD! 

I LOVE YOU STARS AND MOON AND MOUNTAINS HIGH! 

Happy Valentine's Day! 

xo

 

 

A Team to Believe in

In an act of spontaneity, 

I hitched a my heart to a plane 
and flew back east for Super Bowl weekend.

I had been vowing to do so, 

should our beloved Giants reach the culminating game of the football season.

Well, they did, and I made good on my promise to watch 

the game with family and friends on New York turf.

For me, a Giants win represents so much more than another notch on the scoreboard, 

or another statistic set in sports history.

I don’t necessarily understand every play made, 
but I don’t think you have to be a sports buff, to be a sports fan.   
People invest in their teams because they like believing in something. 
There is comfort in the camaraderie. 
I think that’s why so many people, 
unapologetically, love football most especially.

I will always, unabashedly cheer on Big Blue because of my dad.

Ever since my sisters and I were little girls, 
we knew what it meant to be a Giants fan, 
and that loyalty has been tested more so in the past four or five years. 

 image is my own

It’s loyalty to the team, but also, loyalty to our dad.

We know to expect agony on my dad’s face the morning after a loss. 

We can guarantee a mid-season heartbreak. 

We know to be patient, 
that Eli and his team will keep us crossing our fingers 

and shouting at the television well into the final minutes of the fourth quarter.

We know the child-like joy 
that creeps across his face when they win.

My dad is meticulous and measured on game days;  
lining up his souvenirs, arranging his footballs just so. 
There is a certain tone on game days.

And this superstitious spectatorship 
has crept into the conscious of my sisters and me too.

If ever there was a metaphor for my dad, his team, in my mind,  represents him to a tee.

A little shy. Stoic. 
A force that, made mistakes along the way, 
but righted wrongs and maintained composure. 
A team, that evokes hopeless devotion from the people that believe. 
My sisters and I cheer for the Giants because we’re daughters after our dad’s heart. 
We’ll emulate the game day rituals when we have daughters
 -or sons- of our own.
Deep in her heart, my older sister confessed, 
she knew they'd clinch the win. 
They had to- for dad, we unanimously agreed.

And they did.

Winners win.

xo