|The Slice of Life Challenge is hosted by TWO WRITING TEACHERS|
Seven years ago today, on 3-3-06, I became an Auntie. On that day Dena, my closest friend from high school, gave birth to her baby boy, Casey.
In honor of Dena’s seven years of motherhood, and because my slice from yesterday has me itching to get artsy, I decided to capture the Dena I know and love through a book shelf. Over the summer I wrote about Dena’s life as a reader and how the seed of our friendship was planted with the exchange of a book and a piece of art. The book shelf I created using the Paper53 app on my iPad is filled with stories, of course. However the book titles on that shelf hold far more for me (and for Dena) than the stories printed on the pages within.
|inspired by My Ideal Bookshelf by Jane Mount and Thessaly La Force|
Here is the story behind one story.
Dena and I used to frequent a local Mexican restaurant in a quaint little downtown area near our high school. She would order the breakfast burrito, despite the fact that we often met there for dinner. I would order the grilled cheese and fries, despite the fact that it was a Mexican restaurant. It was one of those places where they knew us so well, we didn’t even have to order—in fact, our drinks would be waiting for us on the table if they happened to see us pass by the window on the way in.
One night, they had a psychic doing free readings. Surely it was a means of advertising for the psychic. I was game because I knew my skepticism would prevent me from getting sucked in. Dena was game because, well, she was already sucked in.
After meeting with the psychic, Dena gushed, thrilled by how much the psychic had known about her. She walked out of the tent clutching a scrap of paper that had The Celestine Prophecy scrawled across it. The psychic had recommended she read that book. It was clear Dena had every intention of following through.
I was a bit skeptical and less enchanted with the results of my visit. Most of the psychic’s talk had centered around relationships with guys and her prediction I would get married before college. As this was not even close to my plans (nor did it happen), I was far less entertained than Dena.
When I dropped Dena off that night, I headed inside so we could sit at the kitchen table and share our adventure with her mom.
“Mom, she knew I was an actress. She could tell because of my aura!” Dena glowed in the retelling.
Her mom, with a dry, sarcastic rasp in her voice, did not miss a beat, “Oh. It was your aura? You mean it wasn’t the drama mask earrings you are wearing?”
Immediately Dena’s face fell. In the next few minutes, Dena’s mom proceeded to burst each and every psychic bubble Dena managed to grasp. There was not a single thing the psychic had said to her that couldn’t be traced to something visually represented through Dena’s clothing and jewelry.
Immediately I perked up. The psychic’s comments to me made so much more sense—I had taken to wearing a ring stamped “destiny” on the ring finger on my left hand simply because it bothered other people that I was wearing a “wedding ring” and I wanted to rebel against societal conventions.
The only thing Dena had left to hold on to was that scrap of paper and the book title. Which she did in fact read, if only to prove that she did get something of value out of that visit with the psychic after all.
And so, when I put The Celestine Prophecy on her shelf, it was to celebrate the side of Dena that is always searching for magic, for wonder, for awesome. A side of her that helps make her the perfect mom to a little guy who has managed the perfect balance of logical skepticism and wild wonder for seven years today.