The intense light immediately tore away the darkness that was cloaking me. Oh, I’ve missed the golden day and the twilight blue in all of its raw sparkle. I hadn’t known if it would be a thief, stripping me of my grief, or wings carrying me away. I closed my eyes, and the pocket of…
Tag: Grief
The Purple Recoriole: Ettle Tinlief’s journal page 4
My eyes widened into circles of sun. What is this thing that dares enter my space? I filled my lungs with mossy air and picked it up. The surface is smooth and cold. It fits in my palm, but just barely. It’s round and flat, and maybe a quarter of an inch thick. There is…
A Daylight Quandary: Ettle Tinlief’s journal page 3
I washed the pots and pans today. I even gave them a nice shine. I kept thinking about the cookies you used to make, so I tried to recreate them. I’m out of vanilla pods, though, but more are outside. Out there. I still had flour, brown sugar, buttermilk, an orange, and of course, your…
Tea Dust: Ettle Tinlief’s journal page 2
I lined up all of my teacups along the window’s edge. I used to think they were so pretty. The curtain is drawn, so their colors are muted. I don’t have the energy to open it, to let the sunshine in. Why is it so wrong to sit in the dark and in the…
Crying Raspberries: Ettle Tinlief’s journal page 1
It’s Tuesday, or maybe a Sunday. I used to be able to tell the difference by the speed of the elk making their way through the stony valley below. On Tuesdays, they are alert and purposeful. On Sundays, they meander — perhaps trying to postpone whatever Tuesday might bring. But these days, they are slow every day,…
In Loving Memory of My Cherished Mom
Recently, my beautiful mom went home to Heaven. I’d like you to know more about the wonderful person she was and the glorious soul that she is. I haven’t wanted to write anything else until I tried to write something for her. This has felt impossible. How do you gather the right words to encapsulate…