CAROLYN’S COMPOSITIONS
WRITING POETRY WITH MY GRANDSON, VINCE
While visiting my son, Nolan, and his wife Tammy, in Cleveland, five-year old Vince saw newspaper photographs of Rashard Mendenhall, Etan Thomas, and Fernando Perez, all sports figures*. Vince is an ace in sports.
I took the opportunity to tell Vince that each of these sports figures wrote poems. Perhaps, I said, Vince and I should write a poem.
I asked him to give me two words that rhymed. He picked “climb” and “prime.” He didn’t know what they meant, so I suggested he pick easier words. He then came up with “snow” and “hoe.”
Between us, we managed to come up with the following poem: (more…)
My Mother as My Mentor
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CAROLYN’S COMPOSITIONS
MY MOTHER AS MY MENTOR
My mother wasn’t a “present” mom. I can’t recall any conversation I had with her beyond the normal, eg. “do the dishes” and “I need you to babysit.” These weren’t conversations, anyway—they were instructions. There were no mother-daughter chats or outings.
Throughout my teen years she was held up as a pillar of her church and community, yet I knew the truth: she wasn’t a very “moral” person.
She once told me her mother, my grandmother, was so overbearing that she gave my mother three choices: teaching, nursing or office work—none a choice that satisfied her. My mother chose to (more…)