It's All About Me

I'm back to finish what I started...a long time ago. It's easy to walk away. I can always find just the right excuse and I'm sure you'll understand. Giving up is easy. Walking away is easy. I'm so tired of easy.

Ms. Comfort

She walked around all day long saying, "MIZZZ!". We were small-town kids who had never even heard of a Ms. before. We were not trying to hold her back or down or whichever way she wasn't gonna be held. Trust me, she was no Miss.

Jill

Of course I looked up to her. Jill was older and smarter, too. "Do you want to have second helpings of dessert or desert?", she asked. "Then dessert always has two s's!". The lesson stuck these last 29 years. I was right about that girl.

Lady on the Bus

She was black and she was beautiful. I was very small and yet old enough to remember. On one of my few trips on the city bus, I stared at her like a hungry pup until she offered me a piece of her gum.

Mr. Gill

He had a fat girlfriend named Crisco. Or so he said. And he still lived with his mother. His great passions were photography and flying and Greek and Latin roots. Yes, he made us memorize them all. What on earth would that ever be good for?

Mr. Boyd

He was a strange man living in a strange land. Mr. Boyd was a native Bostonian planted deeply in the hills of western Iowa, living just up the road with his faithful companions, Barney and Roderick. He made lightly buttered toast for "the Boys" every evening. A good man truly is a dog's best friend.

Sharon

She was the foster-mama and dairy farmer. I was peeling carrots and watching bruised babies. With one in tow, and another rolling fresh-baked cookies into noodle dough, I feared her return. "Oh well!", she said, tossing crumby noodles into boiling soup, "more flavor!".

Mrs. Angeroth

We called her MaryAnn the LibraryAnn, with affection. Although, there was nothing outwardly affectionate about her until you got to know her- really know her. That was reserved for the priveleged few who got past the stern voice and tough front.