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Spent the better part of this morning carrying a large rock, dead center, in the middle of my chest…
And, then the questions began…
“What are you thinking about?”
“Are you having a good day?”
The phone rings, and I grope, desperately into and around the seat behind me to get it before it stops. And I do. And it’s not him…
And the reassurances…
“I love you, Mom…”
And the “click” on an empty email icon…
And the caring…
“You can’t drive around like that. Let me take the car in for you. We’ll settle up later…”
And…silence.
And laughter at shared experiences, and the wonder of physical prowess, and sweet rest, much needed…
A day that began in tears, and ended in gratitude.
And, I will ride again, tomorrow…</div
© Copyright 2007-2008 Stacye Carroll
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Are We There Yet? 
>beautiful again. you must keep writing.
>This is lovely. It’s well written, but that’s not the achievement. Your achievement is that you’ve put a common ache into evocative words and in the process we read your invocation. You did it simply and truthfully and without artifice. And I read you and I recognized me. I don’t think you can ask for more as an author. Congratulations for having courage to compose your truth and risk others’ recognition. We hope people get our words, but there’s a shame we feel when we know they understand us a little more than we wanted them to.Truly lovely.