writing in the margins of life
I’ve struggled to know how to put pen to paper (theoretically) after a year’s absence. There are so many things I want to say. However, one of the key things I’ve learned this last year is there is a time and place for things, and I’m not certain public writing is the place for all [...]
“It’s raining. Do you really still want to go?” I asked my husband as I made a quick cup of coffee and pulled my socks on. He turned, his optimistic smile ever present, lifted the umbrella in his hand and nodded. It was dark and early on Easter morning. We were gathering our things to [...]
It is Wednesday morning and I should be at work right now. Forty minutes away from me my classroom is full of seven students and a substitute teacher in my place. Where am I? At home, seated at my dining table. The window behind me is open and the first of this year’s spring breezes [...]
It was early. I wished with everyone fiber of my being that I was back home in my bed instead of in my cold car with a piercing headache driving to work. I adjusted the volume of the music playing, shivered, and looked ahead down the road. The sky was black. A few moments later [...]
“You look beautiful in 'lellow,' Ms. Madelyn.” She was in my arms, had put her little hands on my face and said it with the deepest sincerity. I chuckled and thanked her, setting her back down on the floor so she could join her other friends playing with baby dolls. Yellow isn’t my color. I [...]
In November of 1820, a massive sperm whale intentionally slammed into the whaling ship Essex. In a matter of hours, the 238 ton ship was sunk, by a single whale. The crew of the Essex, a total of twenty-one, survived in the smaller whaleboats used to ride out and harpoon whales to extract oil and [...]
My bedroom window looks out on our pasture. Grass enclosed by an old fence stretches all the way to the tree line at the back of the property. The old weathervane on one of the fence posts sways gently when the wind blows, and if you're outside at the right time you can hear it [...]
It was still dark out this morning as I rummaged through the cabinet in search of a mug I felt like using. Moving several out of the way, I found an old one tucked back in the corner. It was white, with what used to be a gold handle, now with a only few traces [...]
She’s called me “Grace” for as long as I can remember. All my birthday cards from her are addressed in that elegant handwriting “Grace.” When she used to call me inside, I’d hear it ring out through the many pine trees behind our house, “Grace!” On the day of my high school graduation, she walked [...]
Madelyn Istrate 