There are
Those days
I wish time
Could freeze
Temporarily
Of course
Just long
Enough
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
Heartache-
There are
Those days
I wish time
Could freeze
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…💗
When talking
To my mom
On the phone-
To hear my dad
In the background
How’s my little girl?
When visiting
The house
Where I grew up-
To see him walking
Down the hall or
Standing in the kitchen
When far away
In my own home
Living my daily life-
To picture them
In my mind’s eye
By each other’s side
Each represents a truth
I have witnessed
Year after year
But sometimes
Life requires a change
Of expectations
Death is no exception.
Tho its shifts remain
Partially hidden
Until their time
Otherwise, we
Might not love
Quite so fiercely
Skillfully painted
Across the sky
Filling time
And space
One after another
Some clearly
Defined
Like the bright
Blue of a happy
Childhood day
Others, fuzzy
Around the edges
Like the moody purple
Of teenage angst
With every color
And shade
In between
Defined or blurred
Each opens a door
To recollections
Of the past
Or dreams
For the future
Joy and sorrow
Love and loss
Life and death
Each painting
Their own part
In the big picture
Clean haircut
Refreshing
Especially after
More than a week
Of laying in
A hospital bed
Pleasant drive
Past the lake
And back
Sweetheart
By his side
Drive-thru
Grilled
Chicken
Salad
Unsweet tea
Sweetly
Predictable
Quiet evening
At home
Thankful
To be there
Watching
Grand Ole Opry
On the T.V.
One of his
Favorites
Stayed awake
Past ten o’clock
Sweetly
Unusual
A perfect
Last day
This side
Of heaven
For a quiet
Man of faith
Who could not
Possibly know
The far reaches
Of his influence
I thought I heard his voice yesterday. Keep waiting for him to walk down the hallway or see him standing in the kitchen. Wishing he was sitting in his chair instead of me. I know he’s no longer here, but my heart won’t let me stop looking.
My dad worked hard his whole life. His rough hands offered proof. Health issues these past few years forced him to slow down. No more hammers, nails, lumber, or ladders. I know it was hard for him at times. But he rarely complained. Even when reminded to use his cane for balance, to wear his hearing aids, or asked where his glasses were.
There is so much to remember. So much to share. But today, I am thinking about the last day. It was a good one. ❤️
The music store was one of my favorite places to visit as a little girl. I was so excited to browse the new piano sheet music and beg my mom for a new song. Are there any bad words? She would always ask if it was a pop song. No! I would reassure her.
I was recently gifted a stack of piano music. Thumbing through the pages took me right back to those childhood days. And each piece, familiar and unfamiliar, reminded me that music truly is a precious gift.
I recorded a couple of the songs. Enjoy! ❤️
Raindrops Keep Falling On My head
Lara’s Theme from Doctor Zhivago
Little birds
And bows
Snowflakes
And icicles
Packed away
Carefully
Until next year…
Next year
I’m still
Thinking about
This year
At least for
One more day
Well, actually
Longer than that
I would imagine-
People, places
And things
Sprinkled thru
The days, weeks
And months
Mostly the people
And their impact
On my life-
Memories
Unlike the
Little birds
And bows
Snowflakes
And icicles
Have no need
Of being
Carefully
Packed away
Beautifully bare
Impressions
From life’s
Encounters
Left behind as
History lessons
For anyone
Willing to give
A little time-
See the hawk
Proudly perched
On a branch
Looking back
One more time
At the empty nest
That not long ago
Held its young
Once again
Ready to fly
The past
Held close
To her heart
A catalyst
For change
A sanctuary
For reminiscing
What makes a year?
Logic says
Seconds, minutes, hours
Days, weeks, months
Equally spaced
To help us keep track-
Of what, I’m not sure
Oh, there’s no denying
The answer when
My birth year
Is subtracted
From the current year
But the larger
That number grows
The less it represents
Anything equally spaced
What makes a year?
My heart says
The love of others
The beauty of nature
Grief, heartache, and loss
Faith, hope, and love
None of which
Fit into any calendar
All of which
Even the torn edges
Can be transformed
Into a much-cherished
Collage of memories
It’s too quiet
Something my mom
Used to say after
Our holiday visits
Well, actually
After any visit
Once their nest
Was empty
And although
Our nest is
Not quite empty
I’m beginning
To understand
The sentiment
A flurry of activity
The aroma of food
Being prepared
But mostly, the voices-
Once they return
To their own homes
The quiet leaves space
For melancholy
And missing
But mostly, the quiet
Leaves space
For memories
And a grateful heart
Piano Girl 