The Souls of these Shoes: A Volume of Mother/Daughter Poetry

Being the Extrovert daughter of an Introvert mother made for a lively if at times challenging childhood. It was generally more comfortable for both of us to have my primary point of contact be my equally fiery outgoing Leo father, since our temperaments meshed like clashing titans but settled into relatively good coexistence as I aged. I remember feeling repressed and wanting to rebel, headbutting every objection out of my way because what could she know? She was old, housebound and quiet. My mother remembers being exhausted from trying to keep up with my capricious yet loving nature, watching me with great alarm flitting from one bonfire to the next, occasionally getting close enough I did some real damage. From which she would pick me up, tend the burns and try not to lose her temper. Which when it finally did appear was quite formidable, in the way of all Taureans dealing with a precocious ascending Aries.

The one piece of common ground was our love of a good book--I having the endless curiosity, Mom having the need to still and quiet her mind from the day to day struggles we faced as a family. When I had that a-ha moment in Ms. Thornber's English class in 7th grade about wanting to be a writer, she just nodded and suggested I pick up a cheap notebook to fill with musings. As she had been doing silently under the radar for years after the three kids were in bed, and the house was quiet with a cup of Earl Grey and pin drop silence for company.

This book, like all of the work I either author or edit, is a work of heart. And while our taste in genres consumed differs significantly, I am proud of the bond I share with my beautiful mother through the written word. Over the years, it has kept us in touch through handwritten letters and sometimes silly random text messages. My wandering spirit has taken my own little family on the road, traversing the Eastern seaboard. Mom remains content in the frigid north, with endless quilt projects and good books for her companions now that her familiars have passed over the rainbow bridge.

I hope that you enjoy this blending of our two styles, and perhaps find a few common threads neither of us considered.

Enjoy!

Lydia (Burdick) Dittrich