As a new Mom, I had much to learn. On-the-job training at its finest! There were many changes and emotions to process. I was barely able to catch my breath. And I haven’t even mentioned the lack of sleep. But, oh, so much love.
As a new Gigi, there is still much to learn. Much of it through reflecting. Seeing my babies as I hold my granddaughter. Understanding how my mom must have felt holding my children for the first time. And again, so much love.
Motherhood is a beautiful circle of strength and love sewn with unbreakable threads. It causes us to need each other in ways we may never completely understand. It leaves me humbled and grateful.
We grew up together. Cousins, a curious mix of family and friends. If I’ve ever talked to you about cousins, you know I have twenty-five first cousins on my mom’s side of the family! I love sharing that fact.
This group was enveloping. Some older, some younger, and some the same age. We played hard and fought sometimes. Learned how to hold babies when a new cousin came along. The older ones served as built-in babysitters.
Now, we’re all grown up. We each took our own path. Don’t see each other often, maybe at a funeral or a rare holiday visit. But when one is sick, as is currently the case, or facing challenges, there is a flood of memories and emotions.
In those moments, I picture us as kids again. Running and playing with no thoughts of accidents, cancer, or death. But reality snaps me back with one look in the mirror. The truth is unavoidable. We are no longer kids.
That truth mixes with our history, leaving me grateful that we grew up together. Leaving me wanting to say, I love you.
Tiny hand Gently Patting me On the back Head quietly Resting On my shoulder- Hands folded Held still Near your face As I tuck you Snuggly in bed- Seemed like Overnight You were too big To be tucked in Staying up Later than Mom and dad A sweet Reversal of roles The big kid Coming in To tell us goodnight- I don't remember When any of those Goodnights Changed But they did- And that's ok
Preparing to be a grandma has me thinking about those early days and years of motherhood. They change so fast.
We are looking forward to welcoming sweet Emilia June very soon! 💗
Thinking in terms Of my life story At this moment Feels a bit Daunting Contemplating What I know And wish I knew About my own Grandmothers Naturally shifts My perspective So much more They could have Would have said Given more time Asked more questions- Motivation to Open the book Begin writing One word One sentence One memory One song At a time
Row Your Boat, arrangement The Piano Guys, Kelley Morris, pianoAll Good, The Piano Guys, Kelley Morris, piano
The question We always ask Our children What do you Want to be When you Grow up? It’s funny I seem to be Answering That question For myself These days- When I grow up I want to hold Your tiny hand Watch your breath Rise and fall In the smallest Of motions Hear your cries Comfort your fears Feel the complete joy Only found In the heaviness Of rocking Back and forth In our favorite chair Reading our favorite stories Singing our favorite songs My heart younger As yours grows stronger
Morning whispers From a cool Breeze as it Wakens the trees Mid-day melodies Sweetly strung Across the sky Celebrating blue Evening laughter From familiar voices Around the table Listening…no need to speak Middle-of-the-night Soft breaths From the rise And fall of A newborn’s chest Resting against mine As we gently rock- I can still hear them As I crawl back into bed Place my hand on your chest And wait for sleep to come
Sweet little girl About to cry Every morning Quietly, not a fit Simply hesitant I walk her To the door You are going To have The best day I love you Slight head nod She goes inside Afternoon, time for music Quietly enters the room And then I hear Her voice Not recognizing At first… Mrs. Morris, I love you Sweet little girl
On our way To a coffee shop Little girl Laughing Running Down the sidewalk Her little dog Running alongside Dad and brother Close behind Their destination An interactive Statue standing On the corner An airplane With a propellor Inviting them to spin Pick us up, Daddy! Each had their turn That was so much fun! They kept walking I noticed dad’s shirt It was torn and tattered They were smiling I wonder what will be Their next destination
Driving past A group of people Who have no home- Only make-shift Shelters made From cardboard And blankets All their belongings Carefully placed In large trash bags Or worn out Duffle bags A few smiled Most looked tired A kind of tired I do not know One crawled Helplessly Along the sidewalk- What are their stories? I can only guess And guessing Is not sufficient- Who will share their narratives?
I wrote these two poems during our summer trip to Colorado. Our overnight stop was in a typical city, like many other cities in this country. Good restaurants and coffee shops, local charm. Also, like in other cities, many individuals are homeless.
I do not pretend to understand or have answers, but I could not look away. Nor keep from sharing.
Moving is a multi-faceted project that takes on a life of its own. Packing all your belongings in boxes, bags, and tubs. Strategically placing said containers, along with furniture, in the moving truck. Like playing a championship game of Tetris, according to my husband.
And then, after driving to your new abode, you work backward. Unloading all your belongings from the moving truck. Not wasting any time making the new place feel like home.
For most, if not all, of our many moves, our parents were there to help. College dorms, apartments, houses. Each new stage of life took us blocks or states away and back. Moving was a family affair.
Today was another moving day. But this time, I was the proud parent, listening and helping. Though my helping was more moral support than heavy lifting. Cold drink runs and a dryer plug from Home Depot.
Our son and daughter-in-law were moving to a new apartment. A different town, more space, a new home. As they loaded the truck, I overheard several neighbors.
You guys were great neighbors! We will miss you guys around here. I was planning to ask your husband if he could mount my tv on the wall.
After the truck was unloaded, we had a nice lunch out. And once the washer and dryer were hooked up, my husband announced it was time to go. I sighed. Not before documenting. A snapshot of the three sweaty guys-dad and his two boys. And a picture of the happy couple standing by the fireplace.
Another moving day in the books. A hot, sweaty, full of laughter, family moving day. Not the last in our family, I’m sure. Just need a little rest before the next one. 😉
