Sweet baby girl
Little sister
Already loved
Your big sister
is so excited
to meet you
“Around Christmas time, when it might snow!”
Somehow, I think
she knew about you
before anyone else
Big sisters have
been known to
be a bit bossy
Yes, this is a personal admission
But I have a feeling
the two of you
will be best friends
And the rest of us
will continue to watch,
to learn, and to love
Where would I wish to go?
And who might do the carrying?
If carried by a cloud,
wherever the wind blew-
Watching shadows float
across the landscape below
Not simply reclining, but
looking through binoculars
Searching the trees, flowers,
and people below in hopes
of greater understanding
If carried by a horse-
Sitting tall, laughing
As my hair flows behind me
Holding tight to the reins
Exploring places only
The horse knows how to find
Admiring hidden
landscapes, amazed.
I’d have so much to learn.
As with any trip,
It would eventually
come to an end
And I would free
fall, confident
You’d catch me
and carry me home
Will I ever recognize its approach?
The way it works itself into
a regular day, so slowly.
By the time it was revealed,
The day had almost disappeared.
But it was not wasted.
True, it held an uncertain sadness.
Until I realized I was missing you.
Of course, grief would visit
the day before Father’s Day.
But sweet memories also arrived.
And grief quietly took its seat.
Allowing its counterpart, always
nearby, to offer comfort, hope, and joy.
Happy Father’s Day, Dads! Your job is more important than you know. I hope you feel celebrated and loved today!
Shadows danced along
the ground as we
walked hand in hand
A canopy of curved
branches and fluttering
leaves woven overhead
Our steps attempting to
catch tiny moments
of light dancing
with the shadows
A give and take
not to be ignored
Like the give and take
between the two of us
Sisters, friends, not always
in agreement – Yet, willing
to walk hand in hand
under the canopy
Whether light
or shadow
leads our steps
“Where flowers bloom so does hope.”
~ Lady Bird Johnson ~
Heads bowed, a quiet
Thank you! for protection
during the stormy night
Now, rain barely falls.
And they nod, barely aware.
Faces turned toward
the afternoon sun-
Their preference-maybe later
Solemn quiet allows space
for a prayerful song
Growing deep from within
where roots, long forgotten,
began to wake due to the
Slow seeping of evening
rain reaching the underground
A renewed purpose-Holding
strong, so the faces above
remember their origins
Reassurance that they will
again turn their faces to the sun
Knowing from their current
posture, future sunlit faces
will accompany grateful hearts
More and more questions
Many answered before
the realization that
They even lived
What should I wear today?
What do I want for lunch?
What time should we leave?
Questions that serve
to move my feet
through the physical
And then there are
those questions that
cause me to pause
Why do I smile when the trees speak to each other?
Why does the smell of sawdust remind me of Dad?
How is it a terrible storm leaves behind such peace?
Questions that simultaneously
freeze and thaw my heart
As I consider the answers
Answers that will undoubtedly
change with age and experience
As long as I continue to ask
A person can only fall
through so many cracks
And she has fallen through
many in her short life
Her sassy, sweet disposition
somehow remains
I’m not sure mine
would have survived
A history of being abused,
neglected, treated as less than
Years of reports leading nowhere
until circumstances could
no longer be avoided
Layers and layers of trauma
paired with intellectual disabilities
Finally, in a loving home with
People who are willing to love her
through the challenges
Always a battle for services-
physical and mental health,
unable to advocate for herself-
Reliance with no awareness
But that’s ok- she is who she is
A person- deserving
of love, respect, life
Her story is one of many
Do you know her?
Do you know him?
Will you keep your heart open
In case they pass your way?
One day, I hope to share more of her story. A frustrating phone call today brought a flood of emotions. She is okay. The system is not.
Their hair, now white
But their faces hold
familiarity, reassurance
Logic causes confusion
And my brain and heart
disagree over time’s passing
As they stand nearby
Smiling and talking
I feel a flicker of childhood
My reflection disagrees
But for a brief moment
I am once again carefree
What do they see when they look at me?
We listen more intently
Our hugs linger a bit longer
And I understand it took a village
Another goodbye followed by
A renewed sense of gratitude
for this familiar reassurance
Layering itself within the everyday,
grief flows between memory and
emotion through eyes, ears, heart-
Leaving me with new reasons to miss you.
Johnny Cash spinning on your
granddaughter’s turntable.
We listened to Johnny Cash
on a long drive in my car.
Your grandson wearing
one of your straw hats.
I found a picture of you
wearing said hat, smiling.
My sweet granddaughter
and her blue sky eyes.
You would have been
so excited to meet her.
Your voice in my head, fading.
How’s my little girl?
Grief flows between memory and emotion through eyes, ears, heart-
Leaving me grateful, yet
wishing you were still here.
Mom and I had a recent conversation about how we sometimes struggle to talk about the ones we miss. I get it. There’s a fear of causing tears, sadness, and increasing grief. But I’m finding that talking about my dad, remembering good times, brings peace. Yes, it may also bring tears, but tears have the power to restore. ❤️
Piano Girl 