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| The Book is Coming! |
Breathing Room has lots in store
for the year. If you would like to share your personal
stories, news items or poetry with us, please contact:
us at: info at thebreathingroom.org.
Stories, Poems
and opinions of participants are their own, and not necessarily
those of the Breathing Room organization.
Please visit
cfmessageboard.com to connect with members of the CF
community online.
Breathing Room
facilitates candid and open
communication between adults with Cystic Fibrosis,
supports the development of a community of adults with CF
and provides education and insight for families, caregivers,
and medical professionals who impact our lives.
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The Line Continued
Maybe she’s wearing one of the striped sweaters that still share closet space with our linens—sweaters tight enough to reveal the curves of her breasts, swollen from nursing, sweaters that have been hidden behind spare flannel sheets for almost two decades now. Wait, scratch that—it was August. In August she would have been wearing a sundress, one of the ones I would eventually begin to borrow around seventeen, when my vintage phase began. The fabric was allotted generously at the bottom, so that the skirt swirled with each step. The top bore a tighter, lower cut; for my fair skin, this would later mean handfuls of sunscreen, but for her, having grown up in Florida, the plunging neckline revealed permanently tanned décolletage.
I'll put her in heels, the ones I discovered in her closet years later and tapped danced around the house in. I'll put her in lipstick because for me, before that time, she will always be glowing. Forget that the first year of motherhood wears down all women, especially those like her who quickly return to work. The woman I see in Polaroids, in fuzzy home videos, is lit from within. I forget her hippie roots, forget that she had never opened a copy of Vogue, forget that her outfits in those old movies are always functional, not fashionable. In the summer of '85 she was glamorous, if only because there needs to be something she will lose. If only because we all must change during the course of this story.
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