Scraps of Her
She was the glitter
in our all-too-literal lives.
She left a trail of it,
our littlest fairy.
It was the dust of her,
like that perfume half
school glue and half strawberries.
All these little paths she created in our lives—
the silliness and dainty nylon net of her,
with sand spilling from her overall pockets
and shed-off Barbie Doll parts left like
clues: one tiny shoe, a pink plastic door
from her convertible.
These small reminders once filled our house
and some of them remained when she no longer did.
We find them like the droppings of her
in infrequently visited drawers,
the corners of cupboards
and the hidden pockets of the sofa.
I find her signs as I empty vacuum cleaner bags—
a tail of glitter through the dust that, unaware,
she left like breadcrumbs through the forest of our memories.
Little girl. All grown up.
Off in a different world
that is like a new game of her own concocting,
this house a scrapbook
we would never choose to remove her from.
The prompt today was “glitter.”
lifelessons - a blog by Judy Dykstra-Brown 
Captured to perfection, In both the picture and your words. Loved this, lived this, and am now witnessing it again with granddaughters. Thanks,Judy for a delightful start to my day.
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I got to share a few of the scraps of your lovely girls and boys!!!
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Corners of cupboards…I see it…and, for me, is happening now. This is a touching piece. Thank you.
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Thanks for reading and sharing your impressions of the piece, Ardputer….
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That is beautiful. The actual tangible pieces are not even necessary. Memories of these things is enough.
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Beautiful. Nostalgia, lonesome, missing-her and a bit of humor all in one package.
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Such sweet memories!
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So touching–this brought a tear.
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I’m going to send you into a permanent depression if I don’t stop writing nostalgic pieces! Have a piece of chocolate to elevate your mood!!! xoox
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Oh how beautiful. You perfectly captured the essence of childhood. I always say a little person brings so much happiness and joy into a home 🙂
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In my case, they were nieces, nephews and stepchildren, plus the children of friends. I was always a baby junkie, but never had any of my own.
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And who can ever get rid of all the little leftover pieces?
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A wonderful, literal way to describe of our homes – as our children’s scrapbooks. A very nice thought indeed.
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Thanks, Denny.
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Lovely!
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Beautiful poem, Judy. Warmed my heart ❤
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Thanks, D. Wallace, as your comment warmed mine.
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