I sat with The heaviness All-day My heart wrapped In a blanket of grief The day wrapped In weeping clouds
A peak of the sun Broke my stillness Only a glance Out the window Surely I should not soak it in How could I? Amid so much suffering
That sweet sunshine Not to be ignored Determined to draw me out Shone a little brighter Bravely displaying light And shadow Simultaneously
I couldn’t keep from smiling Even as my heart Continued to cry
End of the trail. Keystone Ancient Forest. Sand Springs, OK
I participated in a writing circle yesterday facilitated by Ali Grimshaw fashlightbatteries. Time writing and sharing with this group of women was just what my heart needed. ❤️
Today, my husband and I went on a three-mile hike. It was a bit more challenging than I care to admit. 😉But the time spent with him, walking through the forest with no outside distractions, was also much-needed. I am so glad he encouraged me to keep going.
Rain stopped Dark clouds Remained Casting Shadows That left Little room For reaction Until Sunlight Pushed Through Casting Shadows Of dancing Leaves on The ground Prompting A brief smile Before Slipping back Behind the gray
I have a storage closet inside my music classroom. Shelves lining both walls hold musical instruments. There are stacks of chairs in one corner and drums in the other.
At various times in the year, certain sets come out.
There is a narrow walkway between the shelving.
More than once this school year, I’ve glanced in there with the following thought: would I be able to fit an entire class of students in here? I’m not sure. If I quickly moved some things out. But would there be enough time?
That is where I stop my spiraling thoughts. Any further, and they’d be unbearable.
Every day, I stand on the sidewalk outside my school. Along with colleagues and student volunteers, make sure kids get safely to their cars.
Several times during the year, I almost left my phone inside the building. But then one thought would invade-what if something happens? An emergency? And quickly, I’d put my phone in my back pocket.
I’m not the only one carrying the weight of such thoughts. But we rarely talk about them. Until another tragedy occurs and we realize it could have been our school, our students, or our friends.
I see the sweet faces of the Uvalde, TX victims in photos shared by loved ones. I see the desperation in the sobs of those left to mourn and question.
My heart breaks.
But my sadness quickly turns to anger as I listen to sound bites. As I hear political figures speak of rights instead of solutions, perpetrators instead of victims.
There are solutions. And please don’t tell me there are no laws or policy changes that would affect this epidemic of gun violence in our country. There are. And they are logical. Why do we refuse to take a stand in their favor? Well, that’s a matter of the heart.
If only It was Possible Press rewind Go back in time Prevent every Unkind word That left you Confused And alone Block every Raised hand That left you Hurt and afraid Unable to defend Yourself From those charged With your keeping- But time cannot Be rewound Trauma cannot Be erased Does time heal all wounds? I’m afraid some Are too deep If only It was Possible Press rewind Go back in time
There are stories of child abuse and neglect in the news daily. But one remains close to my heart. I have written about her before-my a former student. Here, I call her Marie out of respect for her privacy.
Marie recently turned eighteen. It seemed things were going well. Living in a good home with people who love her. And then something happened. Like a snap inside that could not be controlled.
There are no simple explanations. No simple solutions. And though this is something over which I have no control, I cannot give up hope. Hope for her future.
Way too young Senseless death Gun violence Once again This time I can’t ignore Won’t let my heart Become numb This time I can see The one left behind Her heart Broken into pieces That may never Fit back together No matter The time That passes- Right now The grief is fresh Eyes wet with tears At the mention Of her loss Or a gentle hand On her shoulder Don’t hide them Though they fall Because of loss They also fall Because of love
This story is one of many. Too many. Young adults ready to take on this world, taken too soon. Though it is not my story to tell, listening touched my heart. I could not walk away without taking time to acknowledge the grief, the hurting left behind. And also the love and strength showing through the pain. 💔
We only spoke on a few occasions. Short conversations, but a bit below the surface. You knew you were dying. Cancer was taking your body, but not your spirit. One day at a time, you’d smile. And your sweet husband would smile with you.
Your peaceful presence was drawing. And your dress was sassy, full of personality. I would like to have talked more. But your days were short, and interrupting family time didn’t seem appropriate.
There was one opportunity for an extended conversation. I discovered you both were retired teachers. Smiled listening to your stories. Gratefully accepted your encouragement as a teacher.
That evening was the last time we spoke. Sounds like you held on as long as you could.
You are no longer suffering. For that, I am thankful. But selfishly, I wish we’d had the chance to become friends.
We rarely know when One conversation Will be our last And even if We have an inkling I expect our hearts Won’t entertain until We know for certain
In my younger years, cemetery visits puzzled me. Not the initial ones to say goodbye and pay respect. I had attended the funerals of my grandparents.
It was the return visits I had trouble understanding. Marking anniversaries, birthdays, holidays year after year. Wouldn’t they just bring more sadness?
Yesterday, I visited the cemetery with my husband and mother-in-law. The place we said goodbye to my father-in-law six years ago.
I am no longer puzzled. Yes, there is sadness. But more importantly, there are sweet memories. And so many reasons to be thankful.
Missing two sweet souls from this photo. ❤️
Walking down the path To where we said our goodbyes Remembering you
I did not choose a word for the year. One chose me.
I had never heard of this word until yesterday. Not a surprise since it was last used in the 16th century. As I read its definition, it seemed like the perfect choice.
Before I share my word, you need to know its antonym.
Despair-the complete loss or absence of hope.
Though I have felt sadness and grief, I can’t say I have experienced despair. I have witnessed hopelessness. It is not difficult to find. So many challenges over the past couple of years. Such is this life we live.
No more suspense. My word for the year is…
Respair-fresh hope, or recovery from despair.
I am glad it found me! Now to try using it in a sentence. 😉
Yes, I know sixteen years is a long time, especially in doggie years. Our sweet Poppy girl, always my shadow. You never missed the chance for just one more treat. And I was always a sucker.
I was not prepared for the grief of losing you. It held tight on your last day with us. Leaving me barely able to breathe, unable to hold back tears.
I keep looking for you around the house. Glancing where your bed should be. Death is a part of all life. Causing an emptiness in spaces and hearts.
In the Sun
Wet nose Wagging tail Flipped-back ear Now held in Memories And photos- Your once Brown spots Long-since Turned gray Eighty In our years You lived A long life Especially For a runt- Grateful For our time Spent sitting In the sun
Poppy, puppy
I don’t typically post twice in one day, but I could not let the year pass without sharing about our sweet Poppy girl. We miss her so…
Piano Girl 