This Mo(u)rning

I came across this blog as I was pulling myself through my morning routine today, and knew instantly that I needed to share it. It’s a tremendous example of beautiful writing from a young writer/scholar trying to isolate their core motives, goals, and inspirations. If you’re interested in a bit of truly fine writing to get your day started, look no further.

Haylie Swenson

Last night I held a mouse while it died. I had just shooed away a menacing cat outside our local library, and not for the first time, either. A few months ago I rescued a sparrow from this same cat, carrying it home in a box supplied by a nearby friend. I hoped an evening’s worth of quiet at my house would help him recover from his shock, and it worked, I think; the next morning he hopped away into the bushes. The mouse wasn’t so lucky. He was alive when I picked him up and wrapped him in my sweater, but dead before I got home. He died from fear, I think, and for all I know my picking him up may have been what pushed him over the edge.

To Ross’ deep confusion (perhaps to yours too, dear reader), I brought the mouse home anyway, cradling its still little body with…

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One thought on “This Mo(u)rning”

  1. Thank you for sharing that honest and thoughtful writing. My father passed from the same disease as the writer’s, and in a similar manner. I felt emotionally numb for several months after his passing. The grief did not truly arrive until the death, from old age, of a dog we had had when I was still living at home. My father asked me to keep the dog after he and my mother moved to the city and had a yard too small for a farm dog. In addition to my natural affection for the dog, he was the last living link to my life as a son living under my father’s roof, and the grief I felt at his passing included all the delayed grief from my father’s death. There are no small things when they are linked to the core of our lives.

    Michael Brewer

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