23 Quotes by Susie Newman

It’s crazy to think that ten years ago I was on a desperate search for happiness. The hunt took me to another state, around the city, and through four years of college. I searched for bliss in textbooks, lectures, and lovers. I tracked joy in experiences, best friends, failed relationships, and lost jobs, only to learn the lesson that Granny Crackers tried to teach me so long ago: “Happiness lives inside of you.

She reminded me of the vacant houses that have taken over our neighborhood, ghost structures with boarded-up doors and crumbling walls. No longer strong, she was like a memory, or rather a silhouette of the spirit that used to live inside her, before the light in her eyes went out.

After my mother left, sadness moved into our home like a rude, unwanted houseguest. Depression was more than a feeling; it was a presence. Depression lounged on our furniture with its feet up, took over the TV, and invaded our space. Days felt monotonous and long. Everything was dull.

We are a family dominated by women over the generations. Granny Crackers, Mimi, Ava, (and yes, even Mo) and I are branches of the same tree, our roots twisted together under earth and soil. We are leaf and limbs connected by stem and twig, an oxymoron of strength and flowers, rough bark and luscious fruit.

Perhaps, because children are sensitive souls, unarmed and vulnerable, easily tenderized by pounding days, they feel everything more deeply.

I stared down at her, my gaze riveted. I couldn’t help myself. Silently I pressed her image into my mind, taking in every characteristic of my newfound hero. Her gnarled fingers like claws pressed the ground. Her white hair lifted in feathery wisps above tired and watery seafoam-green eyes. Her face reminded me of dried cracked earth, her story written in the deep wrinkled lines on her brown, suntanned skin. I had never seen anyone look frailer yet more fierce.

life is like the weather, unpredictable, with chances of rain, and sunny days interrupted by thunderstorms and blizzards. But even with the uncontrollable weather, a person has choices. You can grab an umbrella, wear thick socks and snow boots, put on a hat or jacket, or lather up with sunscreen. Now some people don’t consider their choices and make bad ones. Those people will stand outside in a snowstorm without a coat and blame their being cold on the weather.

For me, time is much more fluid, both a rushing river and a stagnant pond. It seems like forever since Mimi died, and I’ve been stuck, floating in a lake of grief, yet she was here yesterday, just beyond the bend in the stream.

Time takes you on a peculiar journey, twisting and turning you around a million minutes and seasons, weaving your yesterdays and tomorrows into a tapestry of days, and every single second is part of an eternity.