Excerpt: Captured Words: A Sentimental Journey

Table of Contents

From "Pockets"

Some people mark their kids’ ages by their birthdays, or maybe by the beginning of the school year. I mark my kids’ growth by their laundry. Strange as that may sound, it is when I’m folding laundry that I tend to think most about my kids and where they are in their lives. It started just after they were born; I still remember the sweet, sweet smell of baby milk on their first little layettes and rompers. Even though I suffered from sleep deprivation at the time, I couldn’t help but take a second to sniff the fresh baby items as I took them out of the dryer…

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From "The Baby Drawer"

One night last week before my in-laws arrived for a short visit, I was surveying the house as you do only when company is coming to stay. I was standing in the kitchen, imagining them opening drawers and cabinets searching for dishes and silverware and suddenly I remembered my “baby drawer.” My youngest child is twelve, so it may seem very strange to you that I still have a baby drawer. In fact, I stood there asking myself why I still had it. I opened it, and the memories came flooding back….

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From "The Family Reunion"

After wondering how it would be to see folks after so long, an amazing thing happened. I felt an instant reconnection with them, as the years melted away and I remembered playing with them as children. Not only had they grown into really attractive adults, I was strongly drawn to them. I found them to be interesting and fun and warm—the kind of people you’d be happy to have as neighbors...

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From "Comings and Goings"

My favorite psychology class in college was Personality Theory. I still find it fascinating. As the youngest of eight children, I have had ample experience with personalities. Raised similarly, each one of us is as different from the others as could be except in our independent natures. I guess that’s just how it is with families. The bond of love keeps us coming back, at first excited to see each other and to catch up on each other’s lives, then gradually irritated with the nuances of differences in our “ways,” and finally relieved and grateful to be heading home, to our separate lives…

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From "Cleaning"

Today was a cleaning day, although it should have been a working day. For me that means marketing my recently-released book, or at least writing. My thirteen-year-old daughter is at “away” camp, which she happily explains to anyone who will ask, means “away from mom and dad.” So I’m supposed to be using the time to get some real work done. But instead I’ve had cobwebs in my brain, and my thoughts won’t line up straight…

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From "The Howling"

A few weeks ago I saw two hawks, high up in the hardwoods, majestically soaring from treetop to treetop. Then one day they boldly visited our deck. Later while we were eating dinner we saw them swoop down and steal one of our friendly birds. Throughout the meal we were aware of an occasional feather drifting down like snowfall as the hawks too devoured their dinner…

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From "New Life"

Although we can't see it, we know that all kinds of complex processes are happening behind the scenes to make the blossoms on the trees finally appear, and I think the same is true of humans. While it may appear that nothing is happening during certain periods of our lives, we may actually be thinking, evaluating, analyzing, readying ourselves to make a change. Others may get impatient with us, but incubation is an important process. We are like trees, and some aspects of our growth are invisible, but they secure us and prepare us for the splendor we will eventually be…

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From "The Conflict"

What pushed it over the top for all of us is that the couple just didn't stop. He reminded her that he couldn’t hear well so yelling for him from afar wouldn't have done any good. She told him that he shouldn't have wandered away. They each accused each other of being the one who strayed…

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From "Driving"

As I'm writing this, my husband and daughter are outside in the driveway. She's getting her first driving lesson. I'm inside praying. We've been through this once before and it didn't go well. We thought our son was going to be a great driver. He was so good with every kind of gadget and mechanical thing that we thought it would be a cinch for him…

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From "Color Me Beautiful"

Thinking about the color phenomenon has made me ponder all the other things I have learned that I can't imagine not knowing. Just as at one time I didn’t know that I was a "Winter," I also didn't know that massages and pedicures feel amazing and painted toenails make me feel sexy. What was I thinking when I got engaged and thought I preferred aquamarines to diamonds? And how did I ever live without Chai Lattes?...

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From "Vooo"

But for all his bravado, my dad had a sensitive side. He loved music, especially the Big Band sound of his time. He played the piano, sang on the radio, and wrote love songs. He had beautiful handwriting which none of us could ever fully master, no matter how hard we tried. He wrote endearing cards and letters, including over fifty love letters to my mother during their courtship. He was a deeply religious man, often quoting St. Francis, his favorite saint and the namesake for his college. Yet for all that sensitivity, he could hardly ever bring himself to say "I love you" or "I'm proud of you" but we knew that he did, and that he was…

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