Writing On Robert

“Robert Fulghum?”

“Yes, Robert Fulghum,” I say.

“The writer?” he asked again.

“Duh, of course. Who else?” I answered, again.

A conversation with a friend over who makes me laugh and cry.

I read Robert’s first book on a bus on my way to work. I’m a fan, through and through.

I got stares from people around me. I could guess what they said.
“Why is she laughing? And so loud too.”

I didn’t care, Robert is funny, and then I would wipe a tear starting at the corner of my eye.
“Now she’s crying. What the hell is she reading?”

Robert can make you cry with a pen stroke.

Of course, they would have to guess. Not many people, at the time, had heard of
Robert Fulghum.

My mother wrote this inscription inside a book given to me at Christmas, “Artists and writers see the world differently than others.” That was all, a simple line that summed up my life to her.

She was correct.

Writers, like Mr. Fulghum, see beauty in the smallest of things. A meatloaf sandwich in a refrigerator at 3:00 in the morning -- for instance. The refrigerator is humming to the same frequency his body does. This was ‘Meatloaf in B flat major.’ Something so simple gives us pause to reevaluate the meaning of our life. Slow down, don’t just stop to smell the roses, darn it, smell the entire garden. Then, look at it -- I mean really look at it. It’s a miracle -- sitting in your yard. But we don’t see it, we are traveling at a speed of 60 mph and it’s a blur of red and green. We are missing the miracles of our life for work and appointments, PTA meetings and drive thru value meals.

As I’m writing this my daughter wants to play with me. “Come play with me mommy,” she says. Well, I’m not going to miss time with her just to write for you all. My miracle is waiting to play with me, and she smells like my garden of roses. I’m going to enjoy that garden while it grows. Check back with you all later.

Go enjoy your garden.

Read more about and by Robert at : www.robertfulghum.com