Like everyone, I had my share of ups and downds growing up. But underneath the periods of hardship, sickness, or unhappiness were always the rock solid love and support of my Mom and my Dad (and even of a much broader extended family). Not everyone has that great good luck, and when I read the following poem by Linda Pastan, I thought of a dear friend who every day suffers because of a rough childhood--filled with yelling, strife, and latent violence. Despite that, she has made a great life. Here is the poem (it can be found in Garrison Keillor's wonderful anthology, Good Poems, published by Penguin Books):
Weather
By Linda Pastan
Because of the menace
your father opened
like a black umbrella
and held high
over your childhood
blocking the light,
your life now seems
to you exceptional
in its simplicities.
You speak of this,
throwing the window open
on a plain spring day,
dazzling
after such a winter.
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