not all who wander…


one of those self portraits i see my girl doing, with the phone held out at a flattering angle…

HOLY SH*T! I don’t even know what to say… I saw the door open just a few inches, and without thinking, I followed her out.  I follow her everywhere.

And all the sudden, the door was shut… And she was inside…and I was alone, outside.  I haven’t been outside in years…

I was FREEZING…snow all over the porch, and dark…no good…just cuz I followed her out the open door.

…an open door.  She opens the door often.  When we lived in the apartment, it was muzzy out there…i didn’t need to go out, i could tell what and who was nearby when she opened the door, even from my safety of the bookshelf alcove.  There was that loud crying baby next door whose parents were often angry because they couldn’t understand him…we talked once. His mother left him in his seat, in the hallway while she carried in groceries, while I, of course, was safe, on the other side of the door.  And the old people who lived next to us…old smells.  Upstairs the alarm went off at 6:47 every morning, and she hit the snooze 3 times…every morning.  I could hear her going to the shower, her step sometimes stumbling as she went into the bathroom above ours.  The woman downstairs liked to do her laundry late at night, and I could hear the buttons of her clothing rattling in the dryer, long after my girl was asleep.

now we live in a house. i like the house.  it  has warm air coming out of the floor, and lots of photo(4)places to sleep. The sun comes thru the living room window in the afternoon and makes a fleeting zone of love on the ottoman.  The smells are different here, of course.  And the smells that come from that open door…some make me dizzy, some frighten me, and some want to pull me right out the door.

and so it was…i was trapped outside, and she locked the door- she always does.  So i yelled…and called… and made as much noise as I could.  Finally, after about 3 hours (note: in cat years- 3 hours equals 25 seconds), she opened the door again, and called for me- “Grisham…are you out here?!…Grisham!??” She went down off of the porch into the yard and driveway, calling into the night, her voice panicked. I rushed in the open door and as I sat looking out at her calling for me, washing, and wondering what all the fuss was, i thought i might close the door on her, but I can’t reach the doorknob.

6 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. jennifer z
    Apr 21, 2013 @ 09:31:23

    What a wonderful way to start my day….hearing your voice :)….. Yesterday I read somewhere of the need for a sarcasm font and I thought, oh man, so true. But Grisham’s sarcasm came out just fine…. Love you.


    • vesselsandjourneys
      Apr 21, 2013 @ 09:57:29

      Hi 🙂 well, Grisham wants his own blog…I told him he could write a few guest entries on mine, to see if he likes it…before he commits to his own 🙂 and it’s always wonderful to hear your voice, my friend. Love u.


  2. Tammy
    Apr 23, 2013 @ 10:06:21

    I loved this post Pat. I had comments but choose not post. Sometimes what one has to say is not worthy of what one has already said.
    So fun, I’ve read it a few times.


  3. Janet Whitehead
    Jul 07, 2013 @ 10:14:30

    I do love your writing style.. and Grisham is very talented too!!!


  4. Tasha
    Apr 02, 2015 @ 09:26:42

    Momma, I read this morning.. read back all the way to this one. I got goosebumps and tears and laughter. I miss this… I miss your writing and being a part of your creative life. Love you! Your middle one


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