InkTober: Day 10 – Jump

The first thing that popped into my head this morning when I saw today’s Inktober prompt was a poem I wrote a lifetime ago. When I was in university, I spent a lot of time studying in the campus library. It was a massive intimidating space. Whether I was studying alone or with a group of people, some of whom are cherished friends today, I always sat in an area on the top floor. I remember looking down to the main floor one day and suddenly wondering if I’d survive the jump. No need to fret, I wasn’t suicidal. It was just a momentary flash of a thought, which I suppose was stirred by the invincibility we feel when we’re young. That thought eventually became a poem that I’m sharing along with my illustration of today’s prompt.

InkTober - Day 10 - Jump

Here are my musings from that long-ago day in the library…

If I Jump

 

InkTober: Day 9 – Broken

I have broken four of the ten brightly coloured mugs my younger brother bought me for Christmas almost twenty years ago. He was a teenager then, and it made me feel special that he spent so much of the money from his after-school job to buy them for me. Each time I drink from one of them, I’m reminded of my brother and how much I love him. Each time I break one, even though I know it’s not a big deal to my brother, I feel a bit of guilt and disappointment in myself for not taking better care of these gifts he gave to me. Isn’t it amazing how much meaning we attach to things?

InkTober - Day 9 - Broken

 

InkTober: Day 8 – Rock

It was hard deciding what to write about today. I could tell the story of how I was hit in the head with a rock when I was a little girl, or how much I envy the beautiful art I see people make using rocks and other materials but those things seem too easy. Especially after the day I’ve had.

Today I went to visit a teacher who taught me many years ago – when I was in junior high school to be exact. He retired years ago and has suffered from poor health for many years. I promised many times in the past that I would visit him but never made the trip, until today. He and his wife are no longer living in their own home. They now live in a full-care retirement home about an hour outside my city. When I saw this teacher today, it was hard not to cry. The man who taught me so much and motivated me to be the best version of myself when I was entering my teenage years is barely able to stand on his own. Even so, he’s a happy person. He faces every day of his life with optimism and humour, regardless of his pain and many struggles.

Seeing him today, made me realize that he had a large part to play in building a strong foundation for me to create my life. I know that I’m not the only former student of his that feels this way because when I chat with him – in our frequent phone conversations – he tells me about the messages he receives from students who seek him out on social media; and many of my friends from all those years ago have similar thoughts and feelings about him. For so many of us he was a cornerstone. He taught us to excel, have self-respect, and never give up on anything – most importantly ourselves.

I know the prompt today is rock, but what is a cornerstone other than a rock, cut to fit certain specifications in a building’s foundation.

InkTober - Day 8 - Rock