So much Talk Of rights Not yours In companion With mine No, mine or yours Exclaimed Over and over IN ALL CAPS Making certain Everyone knows And no one Disagrees
How lonely It must be Concerned only With oneself Not interested In truly loving Another Or in understanding That our hearts Are Capable Of beating The same rhythm At any given Moment in time
Another poem from a recent writing circle with Ali Grimshaw. https://flashlightbatteries.blog/. You never know what’s going to show up on the page. And the critical voice is not invited. Love this process! ❤️
There are few things I enjoy more than celebrating our children’s birthdays. Favorite meals, cake and ice cream, candles, family and friends singing.
These days fill me with questions about the passing of time. It appears so logical when looking at a calendar or clock. And yet, within the heart cannot be explained. For there, it is intertwined with memories and feelings.
Today is the twenty-fifth birthday of our daughter. And I find myself pulled between two points in time.
First, remembering those early days. Crying all the time, both of us. 😉 Never physically far away from each other. Feeling exhausted but so happy.
And the present…watching her passion for life, others, and education. Her strength and determination. Enjoying our conversations and shopping trips. Feeling proud of who she is.
Two different times, with lots of journeying in between.
Not sure which Took my breath Away first… Beauty Or elevation A 360 degree Perspective No formations Blocking my view I could see Where I was going And where I’d been All of it Storms ahead Storms behind Cool breezes And sunlight In between Clarity of lessons Learned quickly As well as those Requiring repetition Each one Revealing purpose In passing landscapes No wish To speed ahead No wish To slow down Only the desire to be Only the desire to live
I love spending time in Colorado. One specific area holds many memories. Family vacations with parents, kids, grandparents, grandchildren, and great-grandparents. Honeymoons and holidays, hiking, and fishing. Feeding the chipmunks. And, of course, beautiful scenery.
Gart and I are traveling to this spot with our three grown kids and daughter-in-law. What a treat! This sentimental mom can’t help looking back and looking forward. But mostly, I’m just enjoying all of us being together.
Some are deceiving Masquerading As another one Of the flowers Hiding their roots Amongst the foliage Of otherwise Healthy plants And once unable To contain Their original intent Begin showing Tiny glimpses Of green Peeking through In an attempt To steal sunlight From the buds Preparing to open Tricky they are These weeds Precision is required To squash any Irreparable damage They might cause It’s hard work Pulling them out By their roots But only after The labor is done Will the heart Be able to heal And love bloom
Any guesses as to what I did this morning? I have no green thumb, but I enjoy the flowers in our front flowerbed. So, this morning I decided to pull weeds and do some trimming. Whew! What a job!
It seemed like each time I pulled weeds from an area, more would appear. And certain ones, well, their roots were strong. I’m not sure I got them all. Truthfully, I know I didn’t. But it did make me think about my heart.
It is easy to allow weeds to get in, tying me in knots. Wrapping around the good, trying to stifle it with confusion, anger, or impatience. A simple reminder to keep doing the hard work. And then stand back and enjoy the flowers. 🌸
So many Conflicting Thoughts On one side Shouts of anger Worry and fear On the other Celebrations Claims of victory Somewhere In the middle Feeling Desperately sad Yet, believing There is a way To bridge This chasm Life is precious Feel it in my bones But it is also Devastatingly Difficult If I fail to Acknowledge The latter Celebrating The first Rings hollow Solutions Only arrive Covered In layers upon Layers of love So deep, one voice Can neither explain Nor take credit For the outcome
Let love and kindness be the motivation behind all that you do. I Corinthians 16:14
My intention is not to simplify our current state of affairs, only to take a breath. 💔
The past two years brought health challenges for my dad. Open-heart surgery and heart failure were encapsulated by complications from diabetes. I am grateful he is still with us. And he is thriving.
Happy Father’s Day, Dad!
He and my mom have coped well with the struggles of health combined with pandemic living. I know it has not been easy, and I am proud of them.
On this Father’s Day, I miss my father-in-law, Bob. I often wonder what he would think about the current state of the world. The political divide in our country? He would be disappointed. The challenges of living through a pandemic…not sure how he would have fared. Isolation from family and friends would have been difficult. He lived for his family and was quick to whip us into shape. 😉❤️
But, oh, what good things have happened. Grandchildren graduated from high school and college. Several are now married. And three new great-grandchildren have joined our family.
Anytime we are together as a family, I know he is smiling. He is smiling, and we are remembering.
Walking through an airport can be a tad overwhelming. Where is my next gate? The restroom? Starbucks? Ok, so maybe not Starbucks. But the level of activity and the sheer number of other people…can feel a bit frantic.
Today while walking through Chicago O’Hare airport, I heard the sweetest phrase.
Hold hands and follow me.
When I glanced across the walkway, I saw a mom standing with a baby on her hip and two other littles standing close by. The words I heard were her message to the kids. They listened, grabbed each other’s hands, and followed her.
What a precious picture. Yes, mom looked travel-worn. Her responsibilities were many. I don’t know where they were headed, but they were going together.
This scene caused me to question. Is that how God talks to me? Does he say, Look! Here are your family and friends. Just grab a hand and follow me.
Or perhaps, if unable to reach out, pick me up. Carries me like the baby on the mom’s hip. Leaving the hand-holding and following part to family and friends. Either way, I am never alone.
Side note: I really was traveling today. 😊 Spending a few days in beautiful Vermont. More to come…
In the shapes Of clouds In the leaves Of trees In the feathers Of backyard birds It is everywhere But do we recognize it? They say… It is the spice of life. Maybe there is more to it than that? In the colors Of our skin In the traditions Of our cultures In the songs Of our hearts Variety draws us in Gives us cause To pause And wonder Encourages us To embrace Our differences Before showing us How very much We are the same
I wish I knew the whole story. How your life began. The circumstances surrounding your birth. How your big sister played with you. What you were like as a toddler.
When we first met, you were bossy and tall for your age. But you had a big smile and beautiful long, dark hair. You loved flying high on the playground swings. I’m glad for those moments of joy in your life.
Schoolwork did not come easy. You worked so hard. No matter what we tried, letters and numbers couldn’t find their way into your memory banks. Not long-term, anyway.
You enjoyed listening to stories and spending time playing pretend with your friends. Somehow, unphased by the lack of remembering academic details.
Traveling between Mexico and Oklahoma seemed to be the pattern. You, your mother, and your older sister. That must have been stressful and scary. Not knowing how long you would stay in one place or where you belonged.
I wish I knew the whole story. Why the older you grew, the less care you seemed to receive. Understanding there must have been challenges in raising a child with disabilities. But still, you deserved to be cared for and loved.
What love there was somehow faded with the birth of a new baby. Slowly turning to neglect and abuse. My heart breaks over what I do know.
You are unable to tell me your whole story. Only bits and pieces. Maybe I shouldn’t wish to know it. One thing I do know is you will always wear the scars. Yet, you still manage to smile. You give and receive love. And just maybe, that is the whole story. ❤️
Our sweet friend, Marie. So glad she is part of our lives.
From a distance The distance Between them Seemed Unremarkable A series of Ups and downs Over rolling hills Around sharp curves Always maintaining The appearance Of connection Perhaps it was The alternating Each taking a turn In the lead Until rest Was required And a graceful Exchange Occurred One-hand Reaching forward The other back No need for even a glance- I suppose distance was Never really a factor As their hearts Always seemed To precede Their hands
Piano Girl 