by Shelley Fowler
My physical body is sitting at the computer table. My eyes are looking at a blank page on the monitor. Shiloh’s furry head is resting upon my left foot. And sitting on the table is a cup of green tea which is rapidly cooling with each sip. The wash machine just finished its rinse cycle and there are almost muted voices radiating from the television.
And yet, my mind has taken me far away from this table, this monitor, the tepid tea and Shiloh’s warmth upon my foot. The past has bumped against the present, and I can not only see but also feel with such clarity that which once meant so much to not only me, but my entire family – the sadness and then the joy of Easter. And my remembrance comes with the sensation of once again being that little chubby girl with long brown hair and eyes to match who embraced the story with such innocent faith, wonder and gladness. (Note: the gladness came only after we got Jesus off the cross and resurrected!)