Her eyes were open, taking in my tired face... Her face twitched into what looked like a squinty smile, and in her wordless expression I saw gratitude, and relief, and trust. I wanted, desperately, not to disappoint her.
Vanessa DiffenbaughMots clés motherhood childbirth
If it was true that moss did not have roots, and maternal love could grow spontaneously, as if from nothing, perhaps I had been wrong to believe myself unfit to raise my daughter. Perhaps the unattached, the unwanted, the unloved, could grow to give love as lushly as anyone else.
Vanessa DiffenbaughMots clés as-if-from-nothing the-unloved the-unwanted
Over time, we would learn each other and I would learn to love her like a mother loves a daughter, imperfectly and without roots.
Vanessa DiffenbaughIn that moment, we were the same, each of us destroyed by our limited understanding of reality.
Vanessa DiffenbaughFor eight years I dreamed of fire. Trees ignited as I passed them; oceans burned.
Vanessa DiffenbaughThis time, there was no escape, I could not turn away, could not leave without accepting what I had done. There was only one way to the other side, and that was through the pain.
Vanessa DiffenbaughMots clés life pain philosophy acceptance-of-oneself
Non mi fido, come la lavanda. Mi difendo, come il rododendro . Sono sola, come la rosa bianca, e ho paura. E quando ho paura, lascio…
Vanessa DiffenbaughI believe you can prove everyone wrong, too, Victoria. Your behavior is a choice; it isn't who you are.
Vanessa DiffenbaughMots clés inspirational choice
Meredith Combs, the social worker responsible for selecting the stream of adoptive families that gave me back, wanted to talk to me about blame.
Vanessa DiffenbaughMots clés chapter-1 page-8 meredith-combs the-language-of-flowers vanessa-diffenbaugh victoria-jones
For eight years I dreamed of fire. Trees ignited as I passed them; oceans burned. The sugary smoke settled in my hair as I slept, the scent like a cloud left on my pillow as I rose. Even so, the moment my mattress started to burn, I bolted awake. The sharp, chemical smell was nothing like the hazy syrup of my dreams; the two were as different as Carolina and Indian jasmine, separation and attachment. They could not be confused.
Vanessa Diffenbaugh« ; premier précédent
Page 2 de 3.
suivant dernier » ;
Data privacy
Imprint
Contact
Diese Website verwendet Cookies, um Ihnen die bestmögliche Funktionalität bieten zu können.