Sightline

Sightline is a common term in theater and art. It is also a buzzword in T.V. home renovation shows. As in, we must have a better line of sight to see the kids at all times. I understand the concept. And I can see the value at certain times.

Yesterday, I experienced a surprise sightline. One I never even considered. But once discovered, oh, so needed.

Due to COVID restrictions, we waited at an outside seating area during Dad’s heart surgery. Mom was the only one allowed in the surgery waiting room. Not complaining. We understand and appreciate the precautions.

However, the thought of her waiting alone…well, that was a hard one.

Of course, we could text and call, but nothing is the same as seeing, something we have all experienced during this time of the pandemic.

So, Mom calls:

“Are you still outside?”
“Yes.”
“I think I see you. Stand up and walk a few tables over.”
I walk.
“Yes! There you are!”
“Where are you?”
“Turn around and face the building. Now, look up toward the second floor.”

And there she stood, in the corner of the waiting room. We waved and laughed. It was a sweet turn of events.

A perfect sightline through several layers of glass and steel. An instant sense of joy and relief. A few moments of light-heartedness erasing the distance.

Update:

Dad’s surgery went very well! He is currently in ICU. This morning, he was sitting up in a chair. ❤ Only Mom can visit, but I was able to talk to him on the phone. So good to hear his voice.

Brothers

Strange how two
Paths begin in
The same place
Moving parallel
Until each one
Branches off
On its own
Criss-crossing
Often or seldom
Depending on
Influences from
Outside and within-
Like siblings, in a way
Inseparable as they
Share the precious
Space of childhood
One following
The other until
Big enough to
Walk side by side
Until time turns
Into distance and
The years add up
More quickly than
Either could have imagined-
No matter how far
Apart they drift
The beginning remains-
Allowing wisdom and
Sickness to reunite as
They travel unfamiliar
Yet once again
Parallel paths
Able to speak
Freely childhood truths
Long forgotten-
I love you, brother
I love you, too

Cocooned

Life in limbo
For a brief time
No place to be
No place to wait
Only one person
Allowed at a time
With the patient

No mulling around
In the lobby
Outside
Seating
Available
Perfect!
Now if only
Wind and rain
Would cease-
These times call
For lots of love
Often demonstrated
By a waiting room
Filled with family
And friends helping
To pass the time
COVID changes things
But it cannot stop
The outpouring of
Love and support
Sent by caring hearts
Across the miles
From wrapping
Around our hearts
Spinning a soft
Place to be
A place to wait-
Cocooned in peace

Peeling Layers

Layers
Upon layers
Upon layers
Potatoes
Carrots
Onions
Each must lose
One of its layers
To fulfill
Its purpose
The sweetness inside
Filling the space
Between our actions
And our senses-
Layers
Upon layers
Upon layers
Grow over
Our hearts
A little harder
To peel away
Help is required
From a trusted hand
Precious insides
Revealed
Filling the space
Between our actions
And our senses
Healing the heart
Making us whole again

Forever Sharing

My heart used to
Think letting go
Was harder than
Holding on-
Moments I wished
Could last forever-
Nothing lasts forever
No matter how
Tightly gripped-
Experience taught me
Tighter the grip
Greater the chances
Of shattering
The treasured into
A million tiny pieces-
I am learning to hold
Precious moments with
A more gentle touch
Like cuddling
A newborn baby
Or caressing
Weathered hands-
Where joy slowly fills
The heart to overflowing
Seeping out of every pore
Spilling onto anyone
Who comes near
A limitless circle
Of holding close
Then letting go-
Hmmm…maybe…
Sharing is forever

Hands

So much of life’s stories
Are revealed in our hands-
My Dad’s hands
Are rough, strong
Years of wood, saws,
Hammers and nails
The story of a carpenter
My Mom’s hands
Are softer, achy from arthritis
Years of cleaning, cooking,
Caring, calculating, typing-
The story of a working mom
What about my hands?
I know what my hands have done-
But what story do others see?
What story do my children see?
I hope the most important one-
Holding their tiny hands
As their story began

Standing Watch

One single feather
All on its own
Light and airy
Soft, comforting
I picture it lining
The nest of tiny
Hatchlings
Providing a pillow
For their unsteady
Little heads
Where was the feather before?
It has not always served alone.
Maybe it belonged to
The mother bird
Attached to her wings
One of many, together
Creating the power of flight
Strength to carry all things
Needed to provide for
And protect her young
Or maybe it fell from
The wings of an angel
Though unseen
Standing watch
Over the birds
Providing shelter
For my heart

Simply Powerful

Power is often
Found in the simple
Expressions of love
In very few words
Because those are
The only words
Necessary-
Praying for peace
Held in love
Thinking this morning
Filled with courage-
Words from the
Hearts of others
Allowing themselves
To be givers
Of the calm
Their kindness
Pulling away
Anxiousness
Lifting me up
Carrying me
Reminding me how much
I am loved and cared for
Leaving a smile
On my face
A melody
In my heart

These past few weeks have been challenging. An MRI led to a biopsy which led to surgery. Yesterday, I had an excisional biopsy. The surgery went well. I am having very little pain and will spend a few days resting. Once again, we are waiting for the results.

I was very anxious the few days leading up to surgery, until the day before and the morning-of when messages began to pop up on my phone. Each one lifted another piece of the struggle. Each one reminded me that someone else cared.

Yesterday morning, I was overwhelmed with feelings of peace and calm. As I thought about it this morning, I realized many contributed to those feelings. They are still present today. And I know they will carry me through the waiting. ❤

Calling My Name

Water was rising
Along with it-fear
Threatening to take
Control of the day
As it covered first
Feet, then ankles,
And knees before
Briefly pausing
At the waist-
Desperate to find
A way out of the deep
Before suffocation
Reached the chest,
I closed my eyes-
Letting go of fear
Hope began to flow
Along with it-trust
Pushing and pulling
Through the currents
Inch by inch until
My feet stood
Once again
On the shore
Greeted by the love
That never stopped
Calling my name

Continue reading “Calling My Name”

Heartbeats

Broken hearts, happy hearts
Both a part of this life
When we feel lost
Waiting to be found
When we are found
Hoping never
To be lost again
The heart measures
Time differently
It never forgets
Filling, breaking, mending
Then filling again
It never forgets
Growing, loving, beating
In sync with another
Following the tick-tock
Of the clock even though
An inaccurate gauge-
Where hearts
Are concerned
Time is fluid
Holding the possibilities
Of the universe
Within the rhythm
Of each heartbeat