Wildflower Writes

Rain. It’s still raining. It’s been raining almost nonstop for the last 16 hours. It’s funny how rain is a good thing when it’s been dry, or if it takes the place of snow. However, when it’s summer time, and there are ballgames to be played and swings to be swung and parks to visit and beaches to play and outside parties to plan… rain becomes the enemy. If I could stay home all day in front of the fireplace with a good mystery novel, listening to the rain drum on the roof or the window pane, I would be perfectly content with an all day rain. In fact, a colorful thunderstorm would be even better, with all the drama of booming crashes and blinding flashes of light. As it is, I got wet walking my daughter to the school so she can catch the bus to her summer art class. Although my giant umbrella was perfect for that walk, it was a little hard to maneuver in and out of the minivan when going to and from work and lunch. On the way home from child care, my daughter removed her shoes and ran t...

I read an email reply from my son’s kindergarten teacher. She had asked me to pray that it didn’t rain the next day during their field trip to the zoo. I typed back, “I hope everything goes according to plan.” I felt a little guilty for responding that way. Did I really hope that everything went according to plan? Does anything ever go 100 percent according to plan? Of course I hope it doesn’t rain. I hope all the children stay healthy and safe and with the group. I hope none of the animals are traumatized by the onslaught of kindergartners. I also hope for little “unplanned” surprises along the way. I hope for animals that come right up the edge of their pens to discover what children are like. I hope for monkeys that are funny and lions that are scary. I hope for peacocks that show their full plumage. I hope for all the cute, unexpected things children say and do that will make their teachers smile. I hope young friendships are created and strengthened. I hope for memor...

continued from 4/25 post As Wendy’s sobs lessened, unbidden thoughts came to her. They came slowly at first, then rushed in on her in another wave of grief. Would he be at her first soccer match in the fall? He hadn’t missed one since she started running up and down the field as a preschooler. What about graduation? He probably wouldn’t even see her graduate, or see her college dorm room. When she finally found her Prince Charming, who was going to walk her down the aisle? “Oh, Daddy, Daddy, Daddy,” she cried out loud, wishing for a miracle, wishing that all of this was just a bad dream. When Wendy couldn’t cry anymore, she blew her nose, took a deep breath, and put her keys into the ignition. The rain had lessened somewhat, but lightning still cut through the sky. She slowly pulled out of the lot and made her way home. The drive was a complete blur, and before she knew it she was pulling into her driveway. Her mother’s car was conspicuously absent. Mom was probably at the hospital. Sh...

Continued from 4/18 post… With alarm, Wendy noticed the two boys walking her direction. She could not be seen like this, almost out of control. Despite the downpour she began walking toward the parking lot. As soon as she passed the front gate, she broke into a jog, then a run. She began sprinting toward the “A9” mounted on a pole that designated her parking area. She didn’t see other people, or cars, as tears blurred her vision and mixed in with the rain, washing over her face. She jammed the key into the lock, swung open the door to her red Corolla, and sat quickly, slamming the door. She swallowed and blinked, trying to regain control, but then crumpled. The sobs came out loudly now, and she pounded her steering wheel. “Why daddy, why?” she screamed. She had called in sick at work that day, not able to face anyone. She tried to escape the inner turmoil by going to the park, but it had caught up with her. The cancer was supposed to be gone. When he was diagnosed the first time, both ...

Wendy slid into the green striped vinyl seat. She pulled the foam padded safety bar over her head. She sunk into the torn seat as if it were a luxurious velvet cushion. She was home. She didn’t hear the chatter of the ride operator. She was in her own world. The car lurched forward, and her stomach fluttered in anticipation. She let out a gasp of air rather than join the screams of the passengers behind her as the coaster raced downhill. Wendy closed her eyes and leaned back, enjoying every move and turn of the giant monster, feeling the wind blast the hair from her face. She opened her eyes, taking in the ground above her at the precise moment the car reached the zenith of the biggest loop. All too soon the ride was over, and the coaster slowed to a stop. She was reluctant to leave her haven. The operator shot her an irritated look. She returned with a withering look of her own, and slowly stepped out of the car. She imperceptibly dragged her feet in an act of petulance, then straight...

Nothing is quite like finding out that another person has been saying things about you that not only are untrue, but are mean-spirited and may cost you your job. I rarely cry. I guess I want to believe that most people are basically good, that they wouldn’t go out of their way to hurt another person. I don’t know if it was a lack of sleep, or other little stresses, but the thought of someone who can look me in the face one day and tell me how helpful I was to one of her friends, and the next day, throw me to the wolves… set me over. I couldn’t concentrate on work, and I started to feel nauseous. I went to the bathroom, and the tears started to flow. I prayed for the strength to forgive, to resist giving this person the cold shoulder or telling others what a… kind of person she really is. I did some deep breathing. I was able to tell my husband about it over lunch, which helped. I try not to let things like this affect me so strongly. My boss says I take things too pers...