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Beginner's Heart
making room
By
Britton Gildersleeve
I’m giving away my books. A LOT of my books. Even the ones I did my graduate work on. Even the ones that saved my life. I’m also giving away what scrapbookers call ephemera: my mother’s passport, someone’s international driver’s license from a very long time ago. Earrings I’ll never wear, tea sets I never…
reflections on mortality
By
Britton Gildersleeve
Nothing like a nervous day at the doc’s to make you realise your life is very good. Not that I needed reminding… But it still serves as a bit of a wake-up call. You know: what the heck are you whining about?? 🙂 The eye that was giving me fits is just aging, as I…
what a difference a day makes (and other ways I wish I was like my grandson)
By
Britton Gildersleeve
My grandson burnt his hands Sunday. Not horribly, but badly enough that he cried inconsolably for hours. Today? He’s his usual sunny self: slapping the Cheerios on the highchair tray, pulling my hair, and laughing at nothing at all. Why can’t I be like that? Why can’t I let go of yesterday/ last year/ some…
ponytail memories and silver linings
By
Britton Gildersleeve
As a young child, I had very long hair. I wore it either in braids, or in a ponytail; it did look quite a bit like the tail of a Shetland pony. Long, blond, and constantly in motion. I wasn’t a child of stillness. As I grew, I still wore my hair long — putting…
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