Quite often i see life as a sport where love is the action, every moment like a ball thrown our way for us to practice the art of loving without agenda.
Jessie is in my life one of those wonderful moments, lived on.
I was total “koolaid mom”, lived on a block in suburbia in a 1920′s bungalow with charm all its own, its wooden red door always open for the neighborhood kids to become family with my 3 boys. We had tons of fun: made those tents from blankets and chairs on rainy days, ran around outside with sticks on all days, played baseball in the neighbors yard on nicer days and made stuff from playdough on special days. I made lots and lots of plates of grilled cheese sandwiches and swept lots and lots of crumbs.
Jessie is the only girl on the block, a couple years older than the crowd of elementary school boys; mostly happy that her super high energy and, in her teen girl mind, menacing little brother, was always at my place. She lived at first with both parents, then mom, then grandma, then dad. Troubles in her home the same as many folks encounter, her Read more...