what if i were to tell you?
or what didn't make the news
what if i were to tell you that one line in a book or one line in a tv show — having nothing whatsoever to do with the plot— stays with me for weeks?
that i save cool containers and boxes with no thought as to what their second lives will be?
that i’ve never really liked my middle name but have appreciated it more since realizing it may have been my dad’s nod to my great-grandmother’s french heritage (who settled into italian life after marrying)?
what if i were to tell you that i used to be able to bake a mean mud pie in my playhouse but have no desire to bake real pies as an adult?
that true blue is not my favorite color and 3 is not my favorite number so i tend to avoid both?
that i didn’t really know i have a thing for chairs of all kinds until i started accumulating so many?
what if i were to tell you that i grew fascinated with a baby bird — even though i’m terrified of birds — who was trying unsuccessfully, over and over again, to fly onto my lawn chair?
and that another baby bird overcame extreme odds after finding out his mother hadn’t briefed him on the dangers of windows?
that i stood in awe of an evergreen sapling growing out of the middle of a driveway in my neighborhood?
what if i were to tell you that i often say “i’m sorry” — not when i really have anything to be sorry for but rather as a verbal reflex?
that i smile at everyone i pass by even when some of them don’t smile back?
and that i laugh to myself when i catch those particular individuals totally by surprise?
what if i were to tell you that i am insanely happy being able to write again with my dominant hand, after breaking my wrist and going through a difficult recovery?
that a young moose calmly walked down my alley four days ago?
that a solid hug after a brutal day turns my entire mindset around?
what if i were to tell you that i love bagels and baguettes but bagels and baguettes no longer love me?
that i am a citizen of the united states and a citizen of italy and a resident of paraguay?
that i admire resilience and moxie?
what if i were to tell you that my childhood nickname was bunnyboo?
and that my mom always drew my own personalized bunny logo on the envelopes she addressed to me?
that memories of my dad cracking jokes and my mom laughing at them warm my heart and sadden me at the same time?
what if i were to tell you that my first solo trip anywhere was the time i rode my turquoise miss buzz bike to the S&R drive-in and ordered a 7-up all by myself?
that i experience heightened anxiety every time i travel by air even though i love love love exploring the world?
that i still really really really miss mr smith and harlowe?
what if i were to tell you that celebrating the winter — not summer — solstice on june 21 this year sounds both upside-down and lots of fun?
that my journal collection, those carefully-recorded moments of my life (bins and bins of them), are very very important to me, maddeningly important, crucial even?
that those memoir-like words are how i remember my days, relive snippets of my experiences, analyze my existence, put the whole picture together, in order to recognize and honor who i’ve become and who i am still becoming?
what if i were to tell you?
[combined 13-minute freewrites inspired by 2 lines from 2 poems by maya stein & rosemerry wahtola trommer]