What if we let others walk with us, even if from a distance? What if we let our complexity shine out, rather than close off and cage us? What if we stood in our reality, and let it be?
I think that’s what she would have done.
So what if I said: my mother, the human who shaped and grew me, died two and a half months ago and this is what was in me in the before, during, and after?
In the midst of many movements, physical and figurative and of the soul, words I once wrote have a way of coming back around: 11 November 2014 Things That Appear Broken But Upon Closer Inspection Are Beautiful A slight glint of the equator peeks through the rust on the dilapidated gurney. Soft eyelashes continuing toContinueContinue reading “Things That Appear Broken But Upon Closer Inspection Are Beautiful”
Last Monday morning, I printed, hole-punched, bound, and turned in to my advisor the 172 pages of my senior thesis. I began thinking about this project five years ago,before I even committed to attend Kalamazoo College, as a prospective student excited and intrigued by its possibilities. I began to consider its subject four years agoContinueContinue reading “172 pages”
This trimester, in addition to writing my senior thesis on the intersections of compassion and poverty in care for ill and dying children in Kenya, in addition to transitioning back into life away from Kenya, in addition to learning how to walk peacefully through life’s unexpected gusts of wind, I am taking a creative writingContinueContinue reading “poetry”
I want to write.I am about to commence the last week of classes of my sophomore year of college. In the past two days, I have written twenty-six pages of final papers, research papers, academic papers, explanatory and persuasive papers. Tomorrow, I will write twelve more. By the end of this trimester, I will haveContinueContinue reading “i write”
callie daniels-howell 