>stone deaf


In plain view, some things I overlook. When I glance this direction, sometimes I touch the curls, sometimes I feel the wood grain. Other times I feel the frame. The post card, however, I’ve been overlooking. I don’t remember now the circumstances of how it came to be with me. It’s been a part of my home for a bit of time.
I like the card. Not for man-bashing reasons (which I don’t care for), but rather because the post card reminds me even back in the Days of Golden, we were encouraging ourselves to be our own person, whomever and whatever that may be.
There are times we need to be stone deaf to certain things, which requires a brand of courage. When we create, we tune into a frequency that perhaps no one else hears. For some time in my Days of Olden, I didn’t tune in. I marveled at others when I caught them moving along on their own beaten path, all the while I was standing still and counting on a sign post that might tell me where I was and in which direction I should venture.
One of the tricks I am late in learning is that these sign posts are everywhere.
You knew that already? 
A couple years ago, I was back home for the holidays. A spread-thin stretch of days. Mom asked me to race with her for one last errand before the stores closed. She wanted my help in picking out a gift for my sister and for myself: figurines depicting qualities she felt matched each of us. I was drawn to the figurine of a girl curled up, holding her heart close to herself, but Mom was sure this was not *me*. She picked out the one she had wanted to buy all along, telling me that when she thinks of me, this is what she sees:
We took it back home and she wrapped it so I could unwrap it the next day.

So yeah. The next day, I unwrapped it and acted surprised.
But then, I was surprised.
On the bottom of this wired-winged angel was a label:

I want to share one more photo to kinda share my mom with you,
but I didn’t want to get too carried away with personal sentiment.
I realize she’s never overlooked me.

About redmitten

author of Cracking Geodes Open, Making Good Use of August, and The Peppermint Bottle. poetry editor for IthacaLit. website: https://toomuchaugust.wordpress.com

5 responses to “>stone deaf

  1. >That's a great gift from your Mom, not only the figurine, of course, but the way she perceives you as courageous and open; and how the two are equated.

  2. >Love that outreaching Willow Tree figurine.You and your mom look like you have a lot of spunk.

  3. >And what a beautiful gift these postings are for your mother and father. I hope they're reading them. rench

  4. >annie-at first, i was more aware of people in my life who were/are instrumental in coaxing me to be more courageous. they did so by example, or by knowing how to nudge me. but there are also people in our lives who are a mirror. my mom showing me what she saw when she saw me has me thinking quite a bit about the power of a mirror. (gosh, all this me me talk has me squirming . . .)kass- mom's mom (my gramma) was Spunk. i'm sure we are diluted versions (!). that photo of the two of us was from some time ago when my mom was the age i am now. we were spending a weekend cross country skiing and sledding (snowmobiling). i watched mom roll her sled in a high steep meadow called lion's head. her full-faced helmet was filled with snow. i was shaking in my boots for her. she needed a few minutes to gather her wits, but then she rode her sled off the mountain on her own.mike- i try to keep to this side of Sentimental Ridge, but the folks are blessings, to be sure. they know i blog, but as is the case with most of my relatives, too-much-sherry can make their eyes blur ;)flukilec

  5. >I think you steer well clear of Sentimental Ridge. byedenne

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