Coming and going
Moving from one
Instant to the next
While stopping to
Revisit the past-
Those pauses
Graciously offering
A new perspective
For a new season-
A young mom
Grateful for time
With her mom
A grandmother
Knowing it’s time
For her to go home
Remembering
What it was like
To be the first
Learning
What it is like
To be the later
Imagining
How my mom
Must have felt
Understanding
More clearly
The connections
Between mamas
And babies
And grandmas
And each moment
Spent together-
Priceless!
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
As I walk into
The clearing
Time slowly rewinds
The rises and falls
In this small plot of
Gently rolling land
Are interrupted by
A quiet stream
And perfectly placed oaks
A perimeter of pines
Provides a freedom
Not easily found
In the outside world
Freedom taken for granted
Until life allows for
Both leaving
And returning-
As I walk down
That familiar road
Still shaded by trees
The whispers
Of many childhoods
Are carried on the breeze-
There you are!
We are so glad to see you again.
Won’t you come and play?
Waiting on the arrival of sweet Emilia has me reflecting on many things- my own childhood, the childhoods of our children, the continuing seasons of parenting, and now becoming a grandparent. I am looking forward to once again seeing life in a new light.
Ok, Emilia. We are all ready to meet you! 💗
What does thirty years mean to you? If we look at it in terms of math-10,950 days, 262,800 hours, and 15,768,000 minutes. And yes, I did the math. Just don’t ask me to show my work! And while those huge numbers give a little sense of the time that has passed, they don’t quite do justice.
For me, a lot of ground has been covered in thirty years. It began with what I like to call a rescue. My life was a mess when I met Gart. I suppose he could say the same. But he found me, and that was that.
We were both ready for a commitment. That decision covered seven cities, one apartment, and seven houses. It also brought new jobs and a long list of friends.
What result are we most proud of? Three grown children and one beautiful daughter-in-law. Each of them is their own person. Each with their own gifts. Each holds kindness and the ability to accept others where they are.
Well, tomorrow is our official thirty-year anniversary. It is also the day before our first granddaughter’s due date. How appropriate. The beginning of year thirty will be celebrated while waiting on the birth of this new little person we already love.
Happy Anniversary to us! ❤
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
Was I looking at the sky?
Or was it a painting?
Soft brushstrokes
Blues, grays, whites
Perfectly placed
Caused a glitch
In my perception-
Even as the radiance
Of the images
Transformed
My curious smile
Did not want to accept
An answer to my questions-
Sometimes curiosity
For curiosity’s sake
Is more gratifying
Than actually discovering
A logical solution
Was I looking at the sky?
Or was it a painting?
What do you think?
Giddy is not a word I use often. But today, it is the word that chose me. I suppose it fits an about-to-be first-time Gigi. I’ve been doing a countdown. Thirteen days or less! Twelve days or less! Eleven days or less! You get the idea. Probably driving everyone crazy, including the expectant parents.
It’s a different kind of waiting, for obvious reasons, but also because it is brand new. Everything about it. A new life, a new relationship, a new role. And after hearing from the kids today, I could hardly contain my excitement, emotions, and all the above. Probably still a few days out.
While writing this poem yesterday, I thought about childhood and how we sometimes lose wonder and awe in adulthood. Here’s to grandbabies, Gigis, and the gift of curiosity. I am ready to reclaim it!
Ask her if
She is strong
Her response
Will follow a
Quizzical look-No
But the truth
Speaks clearly
From the past
Into the present
Instances too many
To list on a page-
On this day
With the sun
Shining brightly
On flower petals
Still wet from
Last night’s rain
These stand out-
Her beautiful
Brave smile
While in recovery
Following
Breast cancer surgery-
Her gracious
Prayer of gratitude
Standing with me
And my brother
Next to Dad’s casket-
Ask me if
She is strong
My response
Will follow an
Undeniable smile-Yes!
She’s my mom!
Happy Mother’s Day! 💐
Even the warm
Sunshine
Was unable
To keep
The shadow
Of dread away-
Like a dark cloud
Approaching
Warning of storms
Up ahead
While providing
No instructions
For preparation
Or survival
Only questions-
What is about to happen?
How will I respond?
A revelation lifts
The uneasiness
But leaves behind
A sadness
The weight of it
Heavy
Pulling strings
Between souls
Across minor chords
Tension eased only
Through shared tears
My dad’s only living brother, Sam, is not expected to live much longer. I have not seen him in years. And yet, this news brought sadness.
Dad has only been gone a few months. I know the heartache Sam’s loss will bring to others in my family.
Family ties are often stretched and sometimes broken. I’m so thankful Dad and Sam were able to reconnect in recent years. https://pianogirlthoughts.com/2021/04/01/brothers/
As we were planting flowers today, my husband reminded me that I used to be a kid. In other words, it was ok to dig in the dirt. He’s right.
When I was a kid, I loved being outside. Playing kickball, basketball, riding my bike, and digging in the dirt. Only after practicing piano and violin, of course.
Well, I may not enjoy it quite as much as when I was a kid. But, the results are worth the sweat and sore muscles. Especially when we are working together.
Piano Girl 