PAD 2022 – Day 28

A small thought, seeded by the 30/30 prompt “filled with odds”

a week later

your nightstand drawer

filled with odds
and ends
of a life

Photo by Rachel Claire on

NaPoWriMo – Day 6

The prompt today suggested playing with line breaks to emphasize, or de-emphasize sounds, rhythm and thoughts. Over at Poetic Asides, the instructions were to create a poem with a food item as the title. A good one to mash up.

Pie Crust

I stopped trying
to make pie dough

You always told me
it was easy
only a few ingredients
just a little practice

Like the way they retire
an athlete’s number
the process is honoured
the recipe stored

You never wore
an apron — too fussy
just dig in and get it
but I should’ve
kept one
of your threadbare
tea towels

Mounted it in a shadow box
a smattering of flour
dusting the corner





This morning, my six-year-old daughter asked me “What’s a resolution?” My flip response was going to be, “Something Mommy never does because she always fails.” Instead, I told her, “It’s a promise you make to yourself to do something you should do, or to stop doing something you shouldn’t be doing.” I swear I saw the little light bulb over her head as she said “So, I should have a resolution to eat more healthy food?” I told her yes, in fact that’s something probably everyone should do. “It might be hard though,” she said, thinking. Then: “But I when you do something that’s hard to do, you feel really happy about it.”

This optimism and sound logic is just one of many reasons why my kids teach me as much (or probably more) than I teach them. I rarely make resolutions, because when I inevitably fail to achieve those lofty goals, made at the bright, hopeful dawn of each new year, I end up feeling pretty crappy. Why try if you’re going to fail, right? Except, this is a terrible lesson to teach my children. As the supposed adults in the house, my husband and I are constantly preaching the “it’s better to try and fail than to never try at all” philosophy. On firmer, Yoda-inspired days we might even give them the ol’ “Do or do not, there is no try.”

This week my daughters went from never wearing a pair of skates, to gliding around the ice rather confidently, in a matter of hours. They fell down many times. They got up. Their noses were red, their toes were cold, their elbows were bruised, and still they didn’t want to leave. They keep asking when they can go again. Yet there was me next to them on the ice…in my sturdy boots. Why? Because I can’t skate. I tried, feebly, when I was a kid and when I didn’t instantly succeed, I became soured on the whole experience. Now, here I am, with older knees and less resistance to the cold, watching my daughters learn to skate and wishing I could skate along beside them. Wanting to do things with, and for, your kids is pretty strong motivation. Maybe even reason to make a resolution or two.

2015 was an emotionally exhausting year for me. My Mom died in February, and though it wasn’t unexpected, it was still extremely difficult. But one of the many important lessons my Mom taught me, both through words and through action, is that you have to keep going. Keep trying. If my Mom had given up, or thought, “Hell, I’m dying anyway, so why try to live?” she never would have met her second grandchild, or seen her son get married. She never would’ve witnessed how the family she helped build could grow stronger and closer in the face of crisis. Every day she lived was a gift to us, but also a gift to herself. I believe my Mom died with the knowledge that she lived a good life. Of course, like everyone, she surely had regrets, but likely not too many. My Mom embodied the word resolve.

I am optimistic that 2016 will be a great year. Many aspects of 2015 were great too. Losing someone is the best reminder of just how important love is, and just how many people there are to be thankful for. This week, standing on the cold ice while my daughters learned to skate, I was flush with gratitude. I am inspired by them, and by my Mom, to do more. To be better. To try. For the first time in 15 years, I’m going to make a list of resolutions. Number 1, learn to skate. Number 2, tell everyone I love how important they are in my life. Number 3, don’t let fear stop me from trying…anything.