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
Exponentially
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! 💗
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
Beginnings
And endings
Bordered by
And filled in
With love
And hope
A serene spot
Shaped for
The kind of
Remembering
That leads
To living
Constantly bombarded
By outside sources
A cunning attempt
To create doubt
Are you happy with your appearance?
Wouldn’t you like to be thinner?
Don’t you want to look younger?
If those wrinkles
Around my eyes
And in the corners
Of my mouth
Are tracing the years
Of laughter and tears
Why would I erase them?
If my body is
Telling the story
Of birthing three children
Loving the same man
For more than thirty years
And knowing the grief of loss
Why would I not let it speak?
I am a journey
Of experiences
And emotions
Spilling out
Along the road
For others to see
No apologies
Only grace
Accepted
And shared
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.
It seemed so silly. Embarrassing, almost. Crying in front of a perfect stranger. A customer, at that.
He asked about music: music that reminded me of Dad. The songs could have been a playlist from my dad’s eight-track player in his truck. If playlists had been such a thing back then.
He responded with words of understanding. His eyes reassuringly glistened. We talked about how he had played piano when he was younger. Now that he was retired, he might have more time to play.
I encouraged him to continue playing. Even mentioned taking lessons. He left with a registration form in hand.
A chance meeting? Or maybe, just maybe, a moment worth counting.
Fast forward a few weeks. And a now familiar face walked in the door.
Hi, Mike!
Oh, you remember me?
Of course! I told my family how I had cried in front of a perfect stranger at work!
We both smiled. There were no tears this time.
Decided I would like to sign up for those piano lessons. When can we start?
I no longer felt silly or embarrassed. Instead, I held a moment of awe in the middle of my heart, standing in the middle of a music store.
Driving down
A two-lane road
Rows and rows
Of sprouting crops
Wrap me in
A soothing hug-
So much has
Happened
Is still happening
Above and below
The Earth to ensure
Their survival…and mine–
Within their embrace
I see logic planted
In harmonic lines
Mathematics
Mixed with music
My heart beats
In the spaces
Between each
Row of green
My soul sings
Sweet and free
Not wanting
This song to end
I want it to
Go away
The feeling itself
And the way
It makes me feel
Yesterday
It refused-
Sticking around
Like a dull
Headache
Affecting
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.😊
I have felt
The joy in
Celebrating
The firsts-
Smiles
Steps
Words
Birthdays
The one being
Celebrated
Too young
To remember
Yet, later seeing
Thru the eyes
Of those who
Were present
Knowing their
Foundation
Was built
In love-
Strange how
Those firsts
Continue
But change
After one is gone
A birthday
An anniversary
A holiday
Without them
The one being
Remembered
Not here, and yet
Our tears
And smiles
Confirmation
Of that same
Foundation
Still standing
This is our first Easter without Dad. Just me and Mom watching church online as my Uncle James preached from the church where he and my Aunt Martha serve in Massachusetts. It was quiet. The message was hopeful. And we are thankful. Happy Easter! 🕊
A regular guest
Always
Managing
To find his
Way back
To this place
Always
Managing
To keep his
Path hidden
From his host
Which was okay
Reservations were
Not accepted anyway-
The proprietor
Remaining
Ever ready
To welcome
His friend
However long
The space
Between visits
With freshly
Sliced strawberries
And a kind word-
A life lesson
For other guests
Young and old-
All creatures
No matter
Their stature
Deserve freshly
Sliced strawberries
I’m not sure how many years this turtle visited my parent’s backyard, but it was several. When our family visited, we would go outside to look for Buddy. On one particular occasion, there was some construction involved.
Our youngest son, Ryan, decided Buddy needed his own little resort. Ryan found a plastic container and gathered some rocks. After careful placement, he added water. And believe it or not, Buddy crawled right in!
Today, I am grateful for this sweet photo and memory.
Blue morning clouds
Gently float across
Downward streaming
Sunbeams gracing
Dewey green grass-
I cannot tell if
The Sun’s rays
Are in front
Of the clouds
Or behind them
Or perhaps
Piercing right
Thru their center-
Not for purposes
Of Destruction
On the contrary
For giving guidance
Providing warmth
On their journey
Whether it means
Quickly dissipating
As they transform
Into raindrops
Quenching parched
Ground below
Or peacefully
Lingering
Long enough
To provide shade
For someone in need
Piano Girl 