Anxiously waiting for
Family to arrive
Coming from what,
In my young heart
Seemed like a
Faraway place-
Used to be a short walk
Down the hill
A knock on the door
Hello! Come out and play?
Now visits were
Few, but precious
Filled with late nights
Laughter, memories
Never enough time
Never ready to say
Goodbye…
I see myself standing at
The end of the sidewalk
Unable to contain my tears
Waving until their faces
Drove out of sight-
Already anticipating
Our next visit
Lately my thoughts
Seem to wander
Backward
Focusing more on
Where I came from
Less on where I’m going
Hopes for things to come
New adventures in this
Wild, unpredictable life
Hang in the back of my mind
But those thoughts
Are not for today
Today is for remembering-
Seeing me as I once was
Embracing the path
That lead me to this
One singular moment
Embracing the faces
That loved me
No matter the detours
Showing gratitude as
I wander backward
And forwards
Living in Arkansas and Oklahoma, snowfalls are uncommon. Several years might pass between weather events. They bring a sense of wonder, fuel for the imagination.
Around five inches of snow fell last night in our corner of Oklahoma. Another four to six inches may fall tomorrow night. Of course, wind chills are negative. So, we are enjoying the view from inside our warm home.
As I sat down to write this morning, I wasn’t planning to write about the snow. I planned to follow a familiar writing prompt pattern, which did not include snow. It is funny how one thought leads to another and another. Often with an unexpected result.
Writing out my list of words from the prompt, one stood out-sheep. Sheep turned to lamb turned to white turned to snow. And the progression of thoughts became a poem. While writing, an image kept coming to mind. It was a stuffed animal lamb. When you turn its silver key, music plays.
This particular lamb rests happily on a shelf at my parents’ house. It was mine when I was a baby. A quick text to my mom, and I had several photos of my cherished lamb. As you can see, this lamb was well-loved and is no longer white like the snow. But I am glad its sweet face appeared in my memory today.
Ground covered
In fluffy white
Like an innocent lamb
Precious and new
Quiet cries quickly
Comforted by mother
Pink belly once again
Rising and falling
In perfect sleep
No fear of today
No worry about
Tomorrow
Only tranquility in
The fluffy white-
Tranquility in
A blanket of snow
The mountain comes into view,
As I drive across the river bridge.
A drive I’d love to take today.
To me, a majestic outline, though
Small in comparison to other mountains
Barely high enough to garner the name
Hiking to its peak as a child was
Like standing on top of the world
Peering out over tops of trees
Roads, cars, and houses below
Appearing as toys in a tiny
Land of make-believe
Was home really as small as it appeared?
Time for exploring always
Ended too quickly-never enough
Time to stand on the edge.
But laughter followed as we
Made our way down the steep trail
Into the green valley below
The world again at eye-level
My head forever in the clouds
Have you ever been headed somewhere and driven right past your intended destination? It is a funny feeling. I have done it many times. On my way to work early in the morning, lost in my own thoughts, a little sleepy, and…oops! Just missed my turn.
I had this experience last week on my way to the grocery store. Even deciding which of two possible stores to go to was a challenge. During this pandemic, I use the grocery pickup as much as possible. This day, however, there were no available times.
So, after much back and forth, I chose the store closest to our house. Even though store two is a little better, I am more familiar with the first store. I headed out with a list in hand.
Music is usually playing in my car, even if I am not going far. My choices are predictable. James Taylor is always an option. The Hamilton soundtrack, Need to Breathe, or the Vince Guaraldi Trio is also current favorites.
For some reason, I chose an Apple created list called “Kelley’s Station” for this short drive. I was curious. What songs did they think I would want to hear? The first several songs were old favorites. I smiled and sang along.
Then one popped up on the screen that I did not recognize. I read the title-Best Song Ever by One Direction. Hmmm…it did sound familiar, but not a regular on any of my playlists.
When the music began to play, there was an instant connection. I could see myself standing at the edge of a dance floor. Smiling, I watched my son, Robert, and his wife, Erin, dancing with all of their friends. They were having the best time laughing, singing, dancing, and celebrating!
As the Best Song Ever continued to play, I continued to remember their wedding day. Such a perfect mix of beauty and fun!
In that few moments of reminiscing, I drove right past store number one! Thankfully, the second store was only a few blocks further. At least I was able to listen to the rest of the song! Truthfully, I was kind of glad that I missed my turn. 😉
Traditions washed away
Left with a choice-
Create new ones
Or spend hours
Grieving the old
Left with a choice-
Sprinkle drops of
Sadness on those
I love or shower
Them with love
That transcends
Traditions
Left with a choice-
Allow the temporary
To weigh down or
Be lifted up by
Treasures of
The heart
Mingling joy
With sadness
While celebrating
The mysteries of
Faith, hope, love
Family, friendship-
Understanding
Today’s choices
Will become
Tomorrow’s
Memories
It has been years since I have flown a kite. I remember many experiences as a kid, a parent, and even a teacher. Each one brought a different level of wonder. Running and watching with excitement as my kite took flight. Watching the excitement on the face of a child having the same experience.
Just picture it! See the kite itself, whipping in the wind, freely flying, having the time of its life. See the person standing firmly on the ground, holding the handle, making it all possible.
The person holds the handle tightly, releasing string at just the right amount at just the right time. Working hard while also enjoying the freedom displayed by the kite.
One time my cousin, Jimmy, and I were flying a kite. It was the perfect day. We held that handle so tight, guiding the kite as it traveled up to the clouds. Such a fun memory!
Until…the kite string, not tied to the handle, ran out. Our kite went on quite a journey! We watched until it flew out of sight, never to be seen again.
I suppose parenting is a bit like flying that kite. I held the kite string firm as my children grew and pulled away. My job was to guide, gradually giving more and more freedom. I was really just preparing to let them go all along.
There is one big difference. The kids often circle back and wave hello. Exactly how it should be. ❤
These ideas have been floating around in my head for a while. Since my youngest son, Ryan, turns twenty tomorrow, it seemed like an appropriate time to share. Happy Birthday, Ryan! 🙂 We love you!
Frames play
In the back
Of my mind
Blurry, like a movie
Of faded memories…
Familiar, yet,
Not my own-
A young mom
Children at her feet
Gathered around
A black and white
Screen watching
The World Series
An avid baseball
Fan passing along
Her love of the game-
I have seen these
Children before
Though not as
They appear
And the mom?
This version
Is unfamiliar-
We will meet
But she will not
Share her love of
Baseball with me
One of her children
Will splice their own
Childhood images
Permanently into
My life’s reel-
Mother
To daughter
To granddaughter
This afternoon the sun was shining! It has rained steadily for the last four days. My mood instantly changed as soon as I walked outside after school.
On my drive home, I decided to listen to one of the “created for you” playlists on iTunes. No surprise, the very first song was by James Taylor-Angels of Fenway. As you might guess, it is a song about baseball, life, family, never giving up. The melody is happy, the music energetic.
How is it then that two simple phrases from this song instantly caused me to choke back tears? Again, the song is about baseball! Yet, here I was, driving down the highway, about to cry.
What were those phrases?
Grandma watched from her hospital bed.
It doesn’t feel like a long time ago.
Now, I don’t recall ever discussing baseball with my Grandma Mahar. But I did spend a lot of time with her growing up. She and my Grandpa lived next door.
Grandma did not have much formal education. She took care of her parents. She also married young and raised nine children. But Grandma loved to read! It seemed like she could discuss anything. Her set of Encyclopedia Britannica was the Google of my childhood. And the bookshelves in her laundry room were always full.
Today, when I heard that first line, an image popped into my head.
It was my Grandma sitting up in her own hospital bed. She had suffered a stroke. But on this occasion, her bed had been rolled out into a waiting area. And she was surrounded by her kids, grandkids, and great-grandkids.
It’s funny how some details are forgotten. I’m not exactly sure what occasion we were celebrating. But I know we were celebrating Grandma. ❤
The second line gave me a different thought. So many years have passed. Oh, how I would love to have one more visit. So many questions I would ask. So many things I would write down.
My heart is grateful for the memories of my Grandma. And thankful for the beautiful mix of words and music that brought them to the forefront of my mind today while driving home in the warm sunshine.
Morning clouds
On the horizon
Edges glowing
With shades of
Pinks and reds
Colors expanding
Until simple lines
Miraculously
Transform into
A beautiful sphere
Daily rising
Over the horizon-
Though colors
And brilliance
May vary-
A simple sunrise
Taken for granted
Until its hues
Can no longer
Be ignored
The blending of
Color and light
Begging for, while
At the same time,
Defying description
Leaving behind tiny
Traces of evidence
Imprinted on
The memory of this
Fortunate witness
❤ Running Late 💗
Piano Girl 