Thursday, October 21, 2010

The Tendriled Lass

Her doe eyes flashed in recognition as, once again, our steps intersected.

I slowed ... as I am often want to do when I know it's her. It is then that I catch a glimpse of the flecks of green that make of her eyes a portrait of familiarity. Sometimes I laugh aloud at the wispy blond tendrils that have been permanently wind-blown about her tilted head; most of them into her eyes. Her cheeks bear the rosiness of much-outdoored youngster; a grin is firmly fixed.

She stares at me too sometimes, as if trying to place me. I wonder if it's my wrinkles, or my gnarled hands, or even the grey at my temples that baffles her? Or perhaps it's a lack of gaiety, a seriousness in which I'm robed sometimes that seems altogether unfitting, even strange to her?

It really doesn't matter, because she is always quick to take hold of my hand and, when she is able, lead me to a place of sitting, of resting, and often of laughing (though sometimes of crying). She insists that I listen; that I look.

Quite often I balk, deferring to busy-ness, or due to a disdain for folly. It does seem a waste; a folly at times.

But mostly I make the time, because I absolutely delight in seeing the world through her eyes. She has the uncanny ability of taking a near-dead, as yet red Maple leaf and making it alive with the memories of another time, another intersection of life. Her abilities in this fashion are fresh in my memory because she brought them to bear just this morning.

We're an odd pair, this tendriled lass and me. But oh do I love her; and oh do I look forward to meeting up with her again-and-again along my way, and hers - - even when the last hints of the Maple's leaf color have dimmed to drab. What remains cannot be diminished; no can she.



Footnote:

The lass, as well as the photo is me ... the child that continues to live within.

20 comments:

Karen Lange said...

Love this. Sweet in so many ways...Been thinking along these lines since my Mom's passing last spring. My Aunt (Mom's sister) recently sent me a bunch of photos that were Grandma's. Many I'd never seen before, and most were of my Mom, some of one sister and I when we were very young. Interesting to note where we've come from has shaped who we are, and yet as new creations, much better.
Blessings,
Karen

Rita said...

I take it that this is your mom you are talking about. Those memories are so sweet! I lost mine four years ago.

Patrina's Pencil said...

So touching, Kathleen. Not sure though - is that your mom in the photo or you? i see the resemblance - but you could be seeing your mom as a child or yourself through your child's lens. I'm not certain which way you intended but it is beautifully written. I suppose it could go wither way. That's the beauty of writing - good writing - it leaves a pondering in the minds eye.

I'm taken by the pure JOY that is displayed on the face of the young lass. My pondering of late has found myself missing that JOY. I guess I just need some time away from that busyness that you speak of.

Thank God for the heart and eyes of a child to keep us grounded in the JOY of life rather than immersed in its busyness.

blessings
patrina <")><<
warrior bride in boots

Patrina's Pencil said...

Thanks for sharing that footnote. I am thrilled that you are still connected to your young lass - It will serve you well. Amen! to the child that lives in all of us. Mine has been so protected through the years - I'm working on letting her out of the box! What a cutie she is on that horse. a picture of simplicity ....

blessings <")>><

Chambray Blue said...

So touching! I was thinking you were writing about yourself, and the child that lives within you... ?? It's beautiful.

Debbie said...

Oh I absolutely LOVED this. How wonderfully clever you write. That child within us all does struggle from time to time to hold onto to it all doesn't she? HUGS, Debbie

Nel said...

Enjoyed this! I think you need to write a book. I would definitely read it. I was talking to my daughter the other day and she said something about the older ladies at a meeting she was at, and I asked if she knew their ages. And she proceeded to tell me they were around 53 or 54. And I just looked at her... and she said oh... but mom you don't look or act like they do. lolol Made my day! Thanks for sharing. I love reading your posts.
until next time... nel

Beth E. said...

What a sweet post, and what a precious pic of you! I struggle sometimes to find my own tendriled lass. What a joy it is when our paths cross!

Love this post, Sassy. Love you, too... :-)

Sonja said...

ah yes... i have some tendriled lads & lasses here too! I even have a pony picture of my brother, they used to bring those ponies around from house to house and stage 'photo ops'... but the real joy is in the words here Kathleen... expressions from your heart, and mine as well.

Hugs!

Beth.. One Blessed Nana said...

oh, i knew it was you! i love this! it was just amazing. you have such a gift from God my friend.

Rebecca said...

Except you become like children, you cannot enter the kingdom of God...Keep the child alive, my friend. Jesus loves the little children!

Saleslady371 said...

You were cute then and you are cute now!

Grace on the Narrow Path said...

Beautiful and so clever and sweet!!! Blessings to you my little friend then and now.
Hugs,
Bren

Sonja said...

I'm so glad I came back and read this again. I missed it completely the first time... :)

Aliene said...

As I read this it brought back through the years when I was a child and the little journey's I took by myself. In the woods or maybe in my imagination, but the child is still there. You write lovely.

Susan J. Reinhardt said...

Hi Kathleen -

Difficult times tried to rob me of the child, taking care of her "babies," roller skating down a bumpy sidewalk, and jumping rope. Recently, she's pushed and wiggled her way past the problems. I caught a glimpse of her the other day. I hope she sticks around.

Blessings,
Susan :)

Denise said...

Thanks for touching my heart.

Shirley said...

:) I think we shrivel up and die when we don't allow that child to live!

Andrea said...

You know, sometimes I feel so disconnected from my childhood self. But your words have given me a new look at the past.

This piece is so beautifully and thoughtfully written, and it resonates within my heart. Thank you for sharing your inspiration. It deeply touched me this night.

Love,

Andrea

Just a little something from Judy said...

I know that little girl. She lives here too. I see her sometimes in the little girls I keep quite often. I see her at times in the photo books of the past and I wonder to myself,"how did she grow up so fast?" But then there are times when I can't seem to find her amidst the wrinkles and the slight aches and pains.
I love how you shared this post. I could relate perfectly with it. The adorable little one on the pony, is still adorable:)and just a bit wiser.