Childhood Whispers

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! 💗

Shared Tears

Even the warm 
Was unable
To keep
The shadow
Of dread away-
Like a dark cloud
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
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.

Simply Sunday

Digging in the Dirt

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.

Simply Sunday

When our kids were younger, they would spend a week at my parent’s house in the summer. We would meet my parents halfway between our house and theirs. One weekend, dropping off. The next picking up.

This week took me to that halfway point again. Except for this time, I was meeting my brother. And I wasn’t dropping off or picking up kids. It was my mom. She was spending the week with me. ❤️

We had a great time. Lots of time to talk and reminisce. We laughed and cried as we talked about missing my dad. But most of all, we remembered. And remembering is good.

Leave a Message

Each bird has 
Its song
Each song
Its melody
Each melody
Its contour
But each voice?
Well, that is a
Bit more complex
Changing with age
A familiar timbre
Develops, yet
Can be altered
In an instant
By circumstance
And emotion-
Whether warm
And welcoming
Afraid and unsure
Or confident
And caring
One thing is sure-
A deep-down longing
Rises, a desire
To hear the voice
Of one no longer here
Just one more time
A longing not
Easily erased
A longing
Leading me to
Scour through
While listening
For memories
Of your voice
Inside my head

Poems From the Circle

Once again, sharing poems from the writing circle. I continue to be grateful for this experience. Can’t believe it’s been three years! Thank you, Ali, for creating this beautiful space. ❤️

Sweet Dreams

Can you imagine?
Camping in the woods
Red-orange glow
Of the campfire
Smell of smoke
Sleeping in a tent
So serene…until
Seven little girls
Bathing in a
Small tin tub
On top of a
Wooden picnic table
Enter the picture-
Warm water carefully
Poured over each
Little head
The night air
Filled with giggles
As they dry off
In front of the fire-
Maybe not so serene
Except for the
Sweet dreams
Of sleepy headed
Children after
A busy day
The wonders
Of the wild woods

A Little Longer

I seem to be
More time
Inside my heart
These days
Blocking out
The noisy world
Ignoring my own
So as not
To neglect
A single memory of you-
I know some
Will fade
With time
But for now
It is my heart
That holds
Each image
Your quiet strength
Your gentle smile
Your sky-blue eyes
It is a sacred job
This holding
So, I think
I will remain
Inside my heart
Just a little longer

Smiles and Tears

Memories of you
Make me smile
Fried chicken leg
In my little hands
Sitting in your lap
At the table
You are smiling
Wearing a white t-shirt-
Maybe that is
An actual picture
Not a memory-

Little red wagon
For your first
Grandchild, smiling
As you pulled him
Around the neighborhood
Now that one
I can recall-

No longer having
The opportunity
To make memories
With you makes me cry-
A human response
I know-time spent
In the present
In the physical
Where Memories
Are created
For the future
But we are
So much more
Than the physical
In this present
Space and time
And though I may not
Understand it all
And sometimes
Feel sadness
In every strand
Of my being
All the way
To the core
Hope lives both
In the smiles
And in the tears

Question of the Day

Where do I start?
Is start the right word?
Perhaps, a better choice
Would be continuing
The next step
The next word
May come
A bit easier
Not that easier
Is the goal
No, my goal
Should be
Living, loving
All of which
Occur in one
Solitary second
A single step
Where the body
Carries the soul
As the heart
Continues to drum

Simply Sunday


There are
Those days
I wish time
Could freeze
Of course
Just long
For my heart
To capture
The images
I never want
To forget-
Just long
Enough to
File them away
For safekeeping
So upon recall
They may help
Thaw any
There are
Those days
I wish time
Could freeze

Word List

I started the day with a two-minute word list writing exercise. Set the timer, start writing, and see where it goes. My list, not surprisingly, began with sadness and tears. But it ended with hope and future.

I haven’t used this exercise in a while. I’m glad I chose it today. Grateful for where it led.

My dad was proud of his grandkids and loved them very much. You can see it in the pictures. And they know it in their hearts.

He was so excited about becoming a great-grandpa. Even though he had not met this sweet new baby, he already loved her.

I know her mom and dad will tell her stories about all her great-grandparents someday. All the while, writing new stories to be shared in the future.

I can’t wait to meet our granddaughter…💗