Rainbows

I’ve said this before, but it deserves repeating. I’m a dreamer.

When I was a little girl, I loved books (and still do). I would lose myself. Once I opened the pages, hours would fly buy. Mom would scream, “Clean your room Jenny.” I would ignore her. The most important thing was the book.

Not much has changed. On the weekends, I’ve been promising to hang up my clothes that are piled in the guest room. Instead, I write or read. The only difference is that it is not my mom nagging me, but my long suffering husband.

When I started writing, at first it was only for me. Tiny, small poems/stories about life growing up in the Inland Empire. They seemed like almost nothing. Like cobwebs from the past that would disappear if I touched them. Yet, these memories which started out as fragments were something. They are something.

It is not always easy being a dreamer. We see the possibilities. If I could just be content, life would be a whole lot easier. The room will get done by the way. I have a couple of friends coming to stay.

So here’s to the dreamers. As Kermit one said,

“Who said that every wish
Would be heard and answered
When wished on the morning star
Somebody thought of that
And someone believed it
Look what it's done so far

What's so amazing that keeps us stargazing
And what do we think we might see
Someday we'll find it
The rainbow connection
The lovers, the dreamers, and me”

(The Rainbow Connection-Jim Henson).