I can hold
The weight
Of worries
Right alongside
The deepest
Of joys
I’ve had lots
Of experience
Held them for
Many others
Over the years
Moms and dads
Grandmas
Grandpas
As their arms
Held the tiniest
Of beings
Overcome
With love
Responsibility
And exhaustion-
One gentle push
Of their feet
Against the floor
And fears fade
With my back
And forth rhythm
That lends itself
To lullabies-
It’s okay
Sit down
Take a breath
You can trust me
I started the day with a two-minute word list writing exercise. Set the timer, start writing, and see where it goes. My list, not surprisingly, began with sadness and tears. But it ended with hope and future.
I haven’t used this exercise in a while. I’m glad I chose it today. Grateful for where it led.
My dad was proud of his grandkids and loved them very much. You can see it in the pictures. And they know it in their hearts.
He was so excited about becoming a great-grandpa. Even though he had not met this sweet new baby, he already loved her.
I know her mom and dad will tell her stories about all her great-grandparents someday. All the while, writing new stories to be shared in the future.
I can’t wait to meet our granddaughter…💗
When talking
To my mom
On the phone-
To hear my dad
In the background
How’s my little girl?
When visiting
The house
Where I grew up-
To see him walking
Down the hall or
Standing in the kitchen
When far away
In my own home
Living my daily life-
To picture them
In my mind’s eye
By each other’s side
Each represents a truth
I have witnessed
Year after year
But sometimes
Life requires a change
Of expectations
Death is no exception.
Tho its shifts remain
Partially hidden
Until their time
Otherwise, we
Might not love
Quite so fiercely
I’ve never given deep thought to the life cycle of a butterfly. Besides children’s books and craft projects, that is. A tiny egg, a growing caterpillar, and a beautiful butterfly. It sounds simple, especially when mapped out with cotton balls, popsicle sticks, and coffee filters.
But none of those descriptions mention the chrysalis or what happens inside. The transformation is anything but simple. It is hard and sometimes painful. Near-perfect conditions are required for the butterfly to be released.
This week, saying goodbye to my dad, I was reminded of the shell left behind. It held so much life. Protected the spirit and soul of its occupant. And when the time came, allowed its release.
Death is part of life. I know that. And my dad lived his to the fullest, good times and bad. Health conditions over the past few years caused him to slow down. Challenging for someone who spent their life building things.
Instead of swinging a hammer, he would cook dinner for kids at church. Instead of traveling on mission trips, he would encourage friends thru phone calls. He did not complain. And most of all, he enjoyed his life with my mom. Picnics by the lake, coffee, cookies in the evenings, doctor appointments…life.
His sweet soul is no longer with us. It has been released. My faith tells me he is with God. And though that brings comfort, I selfishly wish he was still with us. The missing is hard. I suppose it is a part of my transformation…
Clean haircut
Refreshing
Especially after
More than a week
Of laying in
A hospital bed
Pleasant drive
Past the lake
And back
Sweetheart
By his side
Drive-thru
Grilled
Chicken
Salad
Unsweet tea
Sweetly
Predictable
Quiet evening
At home
Thankful
To be there
Watching
Grand Ole Opry
On the T.V.
One of his
Favorites
Stayed awake
Past ten o’clock
Sweetly
Unusual
A perfect
Last day
This side
Of heaven
For a quiet
Man of faith
Who could not
Possibly know
The far reaches
Of his influence
I thought I heard his voice yesterday. Keep waiting for him to walk down the hallway or see him standing in the kitchen. Wishing he was sitting in his chair instead of me. I know he’s no longer here, but my heart won’t let me stop looking.
My dad worked hard his whole life. His rough hands offered proof. Health issues these past few years forced him to slow down. No more hammers, nails, lumber, or ladders. I know it was hard for him at times. But he rarely complained. Even when reminded to use his cane for balance, to wear his hearing aids, or asked where his glasses were.
There is so much to remember. So much to share. But today, I am thinking about the last day. It was a good one. ❤️
A black cloud
Moved across
The gray
Morning sky
Circling, swirling
Changing shape
Separating
Coming back
Together
Its fluctuations
Matching
My grief-
Moving closer
I could see
It was not
A cloud
But a flock
Of birds-
They landed
On the branches
Of barren trees
Perched up high
Unwavering
Their feathers
A brief replacement
For recently
Fallen leaves
Their stillness
Giving my heart
A moment to rest
Catch my breath
Though tears
Continued to flow
My sweet dad passed away early this morning. My heart is broken. I am forever grateful that he was my dad. He had a gentle strength about him. There is so much I want to remember and reflect over. But for now, this is all I can share.
Plan in place
Appointment
Scheduled
Released
Set free
Headed
Home
Freedom
Sleep
In your
Own bed
Happy
Relieved
Thankful
One day
At a time
After more than a week in the hospital, my sweet dad was released this afternoon. They let me out! He called me from the car. Told me exactly what road they were on. Said they would be home after a quick stop at the pharmacy.
His case is complicated. So many factors. But today, we are grateful for a plan that allowed him to go home. I hope to visit very soon. ❤️
So many things I take for granted.
Today, I am embracing the simple.
Thankful that the sun is shining.
Thankful that the breeze is crisp.
Thankful for the ability to talk on the phone.
Hearing my dad, You will always be my little girl.
Hearing my mom, I am ok. We will trust God to take care of us.
Dad is in the hospital in Arkansas.
Mom is there with him.
I am at home in Oklahoma.
Such is this life. And that is ok.
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
Another year
To celebrate
Family
Friends
Goodwill
And cheer
Mercy
Grace
Forgiveness
And hope
A precious gift
Tiny baby born
Lying in a manger
Sleeping among
The animals
Listening to
The Lullaby
Of angels
When I consider Christmas past, some gifts stand out. The jewelry box from mom and dad that was also a music box! Dolls of the World from my Aunt Sharon. A voice print of my kids saying Mama from Gart. How my Granny Mahar always had a gift for each of her twenty-six grandchildren. ❤️
Great or small, each gift was given in love. And each giver holds a place in my heart.
I’ve been called sentimental more than once. There’s no denying it. But the older I get, the more my sentiments rest on people, not on things. Each memory is a gift held in the heart. Tied together by an unending ribbon of affection, six-inch curls in between. 😉
Silent Night, arranged by Phillip Everen Kelley Morris, piano
Christmas Time is Here by Vince Guaraldi Kelley Morris, piano
Merry Christmas!
Piano Girl 