Priceless Perspective

Coming and going
Moving from one
Instant to the next
While stopping to
Revisit the past-
Those pauses
Graciously offering
A new perspective
For a new season-

A young mom
Grateful for time
With her mom

A grandmother
Knowing it’s time
For her to go home

What it was like
To be the first

What it is like
To be the later

How my mom
Must have felt

More clearly
The connections
Between mamas
And babies
And grandmas
And each moment
Spent together-

Simply Sunday

Simply hearing
You arrived safely
And every ounce
Of worry disappeared
Simply seeing
Your sweet face
And my heart
Filled to overflowing-
I am convinced
Our capacity
To love grows
With the birth
Of a child
And when that baby
Is a grandchild-
Well, I will keep
Searching for words
And let you know-
It’s going to be an adventure! 💗

A happy Gigi!
A smitten Papa!
Rockstar parents!
Sweet Emilia! 💗


I used to find the idea of regularly visiting a cemetery puzzling. Not in a disrespectful way. My thought was-Well, I know they are not there.

Today, Mom sent me a photo of Dad’s newly installed headstone. I’m beginning to understand the pull.

As I looked at the design, zooming in on details, I saw the story. Names and dates that represent what was and what continues. Birth, marriage, death-pieces of a beautiful puzzle. A puzzle to which I also belong.

I hope to visit soon. 💙

Stories etched
In granite gray
And endings
Bordered by
And filled in
With love

And hope
A serene spot
Shaped for
The kind of
That leads
To living

Simply Sunday

Thirty Years

What does thirty years mean to you? If we look at it in terms of math-10,950 days, 262,800 hours, and 15,768,000 minutes. And yes, I did the math. Just don’t ask me to show my work! And while those huge numbers give a little sense of the time that has passed, they don’t quite do justice.

For me, a lot of ground has been covered in thirty years. It began with what I like to call a rescue. My life was a mess when I met Gart. I suppose he could say the same. But he found me, and that was that.

We were both ready for a commitment. That decision covered seven cities, one apartment, and seven houses. It also brought new jobs and a long list of friends.

What result are we most proud of? Three grown children and one beautiful daughter-in-law. Each of them is their own person. Each with their own gifts. Each holds kindness and the ability to accept others where they are.

Well, tomorrow is our official thirty-year anniversary. It is also the day before our first granddaughter’s due date. How appropriate. The beginning of year thirty will be celebrated while waiting on the birth of this new little person we already love.

Happy Anniversary to us!


Was I looking at the sky?
Or was it a painting?
Soft brushstrokes
Blues, grays, whites
Perfectly placed
Caused a glitch
In my perception-
Even as the radiance
Of the images
My curious smile
Did not want to accept
An answer to my questions-
Sometimes curiosity
For curiosity’s sake
Is more gratifying
Than actually discovering
A logical solution
Was I looking at the sky?
Or was it a painting?
What do you think?

Giddy is not a word I use often. But today, it is the word that chose me. I suppose it fits an about-to-be first-time Gigi. I’ve been doing a countdown. Thirteen days or less! Twelve days or less! Eleven days or less! You get the idea. Probably driving everyone crazy, including the expectant parents.

It’s a different kind of waiting, for obvious reasons, but also because it is brand new. Everything about it. A new life, a new relationship, a new role. And after hearing from the kids today, I could hardly contain my excitement, emotions, and all the above. Probably still a few days out.

While writing this poem yesterday, I thought about childhood and how we sometimes lose wonder and awe in adulthood. Here’s to grandbabies, Gigis, and the gift of curiosity. I am ready to reclaim it!

Simply Sunday


Ask her if
She is strong
Her response
Will follow a
Quizzical look-No
But the truth
Speaks clearly
From the past
Into the present
Instances too many
To list on a page-
On this day
With the sun
Shining brightly
On flower petals
Still wet from
Last night’s rain
These stand out-
Her beautiful
Brave smile
While in recovery
Breast cancer surgery-
Her gracious
Prayer of gratitude
Standing with me
And my brother
Next to Dad’s casket-
Ask me if
She is strong
My response
Will follow an
Undeniable smile-Yes!
She’s my mom!

Happy Mother’s Day! 💐

Shared Tears

Even the warm 
Was unable
To keep
The shadow
Of dread away-
Like a dark cloud
Warning of storms
Up ahead
While providing
No instructions
For preparation
Or survival
Only questions-
What is about to happen?
How will I respond?

A revelation lifts
The uneasiness
But leaves behind
A sadness
The weight of it
Pulling strings
Between souls
Across minor chords
Tension eased only
Through shared tears

My dad’s only living brother, Sam, is not expected to live much longer. I have not seen him in years. And yet, this news brought sadness.

Dad has only been gone a few months. I know the heartache Sam’s loss will bring to others in my family.

Family ties are often stretched and sometimes broken. I’m so thankful Dad and Sam were able to reconnect in recent years.

Painted Maps

Red clay roots
Must run deep
I can’t think of
Any other reason
For your vibrancy
A fiery reddish orange
Creating community
Wherever you grow-
In some instances
Grouped together
In small bouquets
To mark celebrations
Or remembrances
Most of the time
Woven amongst
Blades of green grass
A colorful lace carpet-
Unafraid to share
Your birthplace
A variety of colors
Dances with you
On the breeze-
Pale pinks
Lovely lilacs
Sunwashed yellows-
Welcomed as part
Of your family-

Imagine I was a bird
Gliding overhead
Following painted maps
A witness to your beauty
A witness to the power
Of shared roots across
Uncommon ground

Simply Sunday

You Can Call Me…

We are officially on baby watch! Emilia is due May 23. Doctor appointments are happening weekly. The parents-to-be are excited, anxious, and tired. But I have no doubt they are ready.

There is one thing I have not been able to decide. What is this sweet baby going to call me? Gart says he is Papa, easy-peasy. Not so for me.

I have tried on multiple titles in a variety of phrases.

Nana loves you.
I’m so glad to be your Mimi.
Hi, Emilia. Grandma is here.

You get the idea.

Well, the other night I had a dream. A baby was crying. I remember walking up some stairs toward the crying. And right before I woke up, I heard it-Gigi.

Hmmm…I could get used to that. If Emilia approves, that is.

One last weekend visit before baby arrives! ❤️


I want it to
Go away
The feeling itself
And the way
It makes me feel
It refused-
Sticking around
Like a dull
All of me-
Blurry vision
Upset stomach
Tense muscles-
So it goes
With anger
But like that
Dull headache
I know it will ease
When carefully
Tended with
The right remedies

Anger is listed in the stages of grief. But somehow, I was not expecting it to be part of my experience. That is not my personality. Nor did I understand its close relationship with sadness. That is, until this week.

Driving to work Monday, I had a sudden image of Mom and Dad at home. They were going through their morning routine, smiling. I smiled. Just as suddenly, I felt mad. Angry at the reality that he is not there with her.

Honestly, I did not recognize it as anger at first. But it did not fade. Two things helped. Naming it and allowing it to work its way out thru tears.

Smiling helps, too. It's just that some days that requires a bit more intention.😊