There are
Those days
I wish time
Could freeze
Temporarily
Of course
Just long
Enough
For my heart
To capture
The images
I never want
To forget-
Just long
Enough to
File them away
For safekeeping
So upon recall
They may help
Thaw any
Heartache-
There are
Those days
I wish time
Could freeze
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…💗
Joy filling
The vastness
Of desert skies
Sadness
Sinking
To the depths
Of ocean floors
Strength
Standing
Gracefully
On the horizon
As the sun
Continues
To rise and set
This Sunday, I am thinking about my sweet mom. She is strong and determined to keep going. And I am so very proud of her. ❤
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
Holding Hope
Waiting for
Buds to appear
And begin
Repainting
The landscape
With the newness
Felt in all
Shades of green
Taking care not
To overlook
Today's grays
Or forget
The once bright
Colors
Now faded
Their purpose
Fulfilled in
The graceful
Holding of hope
For tomorrow’s
Blooming
Skillfully painted
Across the sky
Filling time
And space
One after another
Some clearly
Defined
Like the bright
Blue of a happy
Childhood day
Others, fuzzy
Around the edges
Like the moody purple
Of teenage angst
With every color
And shade
In between
Defined or blurred
Each opens a door
To recollections
Of the past
Or dreams
For the future
Joy and sorrow
Love and loss
Life and death
Each painting
Their own part
In the big picture
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.
The past two years brought health challenges for my dad. Open-heart surgery and heart failure were encapsulated by complications from diabetes. I am grateful he is still with us. And he is thriving.
Happy Father’s Day, Dad!
He and my mom have coped well with the struggles of health combined with pandemic living. I know it has not been easy, and I am proud of them.
On this Father’s Day, I miss my father-in-law, Bob. I often wonder what he would think about the current state of the world. The political divide in our country? He would be disappointed. The challenges of living through a pandemic…not sure how he would have fared. Isolation from family and friends would have been difficult. He lived for his family and was quick to whip us into shape. 😉❤️
But, oh, what good things have happened. Grandchildren graduated from high school and college. Several are now married. And three new great-grandchildren have joined our family.
Anytime we are together as a family, I know he is smiling. He is smiling, and we are remembering.
Piano Girl 