Mary R Holt-Willis
Stories (4/0)
Called on by a Gravedigger
Walking through the graveyard, I saw him walking afar off, with a rake in his hand. He was the most beautiful man I had seen in a while. Bald and bronzed, His magnanimous muscles and chiseled face glistened with sweat. I almost forgot why I was there, looking at that tall cool drink of awesomeness. I gathered myself quickly and approached my Grandmother's grave. She's the reason I'm in France in the first place. Nana Kay died 3 weeks ago, peacefully in her sleep, at 97 years old.
By Mary R Holt-Willis3 years ago in Confessions
To Only You, This is Left
So, I crawled inside myself, while the spiteful words you spit, hit my chest, ears, and heart. Knowing you are talking out the side of your neck about my character and wit. Cease and desist with your reckless ramblings. I take that for insecurity and dependence, see, I’m just going to tell how it is. Traveling down this road, time has come to tell the tale of how we met and fell for each other while standing. I was busy chasing knowledge, wisdom, another reality when you crossed my path. I was pursing what God had for me and so were you. I looked around and we became inseparable friends. Taking trips, enjoying ministry, learning more about one another each minute we invest.
By Mary R Holt-Willis3 years ago in Humans
To My Songbird
We’re from the Motor City: Detroit, Michigan; but we're built Holt Tough. Four children, who have matured into adults, under your tutelage. My Mommy, the strongest woman I know, born on Christmas Day, 1956. You spoke your mind and had courage a million, in all you put your hands to. You gave me the courage to become a lifelong learner, as I read your college sociology books to you in the second grade, so you could get a better understanding of what you had studied for hours already and take notes. You had dyslexia but you never let that hold you back from reaching for your dreams and pushing your children to excel toward theirs. Even when others thought you couldn't or shouldn't pursue your dreams, you talked very little and always shocked your naysayers with your results. You often called me your "Rock" because I remained solid no matter what and never stepped back from telling you the truth. This is the strength you gave me raised me to have and stand with.
By Mary R Holt-Willis3 years ago in Families