When a writer sends words out into the world, she never knows upon whose heart they may land.
A comment on my mom's online obituary began a serendipitous trail.
Let me back up to March 24th, where I was wrapping up my slice of life challenge. My writing group had a journal club meeting, and one of the prompts was about a hiding place. I wrote about a mulberry tree that I used to play in with my childhood best friend. I turned that entry into a poem and posted it as a slice the next day.
As I was reading the comments on the obituary, I saw one from this childhood friend. She wrote about how my mom always included her even with all my mom's responsibilities. I was touched by the comment because I have not seen this friend since we graduated high school over 40 years ago.
A few days later, my sister sent a text showing me a post by my friend. Apparently, she Googled me and found my blog.
And found the poem I wrote about her.
a space for me and other teacher-writers to share our stories.
Wow! I love how this all wove together. It feels like one of those moments that makes you realize there's a bit more to the world than one sees.
ReplyDeleteThe internet has made the world a smaller place. How amazing that your friend found your poem and acknowledged it. I love the idea of a literary hug. arjeha
ReplyDeleteThis is a lovely story, one that illustrates how small our world is. I’m so glad you have this tangible example of how important your writing is in this often troubled, sad world.
ReplyDeleteWhat a lovely way to reconnect! I appreciated reading this today. Thanks for sharing.
ReplyDeleteWhat a wonderful story - our words really do make a difference & this story illustrates that idea in a concrete way. Truly lovely.
ReplyDeleteI read your poem first and then the background of your post, which led to reading your poem again. I love it. I seem to be doing a bit of reflection on childhood memories nowadays. I find some of it bittersweet. Your mulberry tree evoked some memories. We had a purple mulberry tree and a white one and several that were fruitless.The purple one made such a mess. Every spring we pulled leaves from those trees to feed our silkworms... the ones we hatched from the eggs we had stored in the refrigerator all winter. - Alice Nine
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