I have grieved for trees.
A star magnolia sacrificed to a landlord’s ire.
A magnificent oak lost to a developer’s greed.
A blueberry bush we left behind.
A new white lilac bulldozed.
When I was a child I walked between the trees and felt sheltered. In quiet forests I moved freely, quietly, (and mostly unsupervised!) trying not to disturb the creatures seen and unseen, hoping for a glimpse of a white tail, a fairy’s wing. I was not afraid.
Walk dog in a park by a school.
Repeatedly bare-hand a spitty ball that has rolled through playground muck.
Interact with dog, ball, teenagers out for a run, and several smiling, snot-squishy toddlers.
Do an errand.
Come home and eat the toast you left sitting on the counter before remembering to wash your hands.
This is why mothers have immune systems of steel.
This is a true story.
****
He stood at the street corner with his back to the traffic. It was cold and raining and it was dark, the late afternoon in November dark that arrives in BC like a rock rolled in front of the sun. I was wet having only left the shelter of my car one black ago. He was asking for money, shoulders hunched against the weather. Across the street there were two more men. One man was sitting on the ground with his back against a bike rack, a sign laid on the sidewalk in front of him.
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EarnestGirl wears her opinions and her heart on her sleeve in Vancouver, B.C. She writes about the stuff we don’t always say out loud, the questions we don’t ask often enough, the ugly bits and the awe inspiring moments of life and motherhood.
In her alternate life, Catherine Jackson is a mother and writer with a background in theatre and TV. EarnestGirl Chronicles are an opportunity to finish all those interrupted conversations we begin with one another when we are supposed to be doing everything else.
Follow EarnestGirl on Twitter: @earnestgirl
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