Coming and going
Moving from one
Instant to the next
While stopping to
Revisit the past-
Those pauses
Graciously offering
A new perspective
For a new season-
A young mom
Grateful for time
With her mom
A grandmother
Knowing it’s time
For her to go home
Remembering
What it was like
To be the first
Learning
What it is like
To be the later
Imagining
How my mom
Must have felt
Understanding
More clearly
The connections
Between mamas
And babies
And grandmas
And each moment
Spent together-
Priceless!
Ask her if
She is strong
Her response
Will follow a
Quizzical look-No
But the truth
Speaks clearly
From the past
Into the present
Instances too many
To list on a page-
On this day
With the sun
Shining brightly
On flower petals
Still wet from
Last night’s rain
These stand out-
Her beautiful
Brave smile
While in recovery
Following
Breast cancer surgery-
Her gracious
Prayer of gratitude
Standing with me
And my brother
Next to Dad’s casket-
Ask me if
She is strong
My response
Will follow an
Undeniable smile-Yes!
She’s my mom!
Happy Mother’s Day! 💐
So many things I take for granted.
Today, I am embracing the simple.
Thankful that the sun is shining.
Thankful that the breeze is crisp.
Thankful for the ability to talk on the phone.
Hearing my dad, You will always be my little girl.
Hearing my mom, I am ok. We will trust God to take care of us.
Dad is in the hospital in Arkansas.
Mom is there with him.
I am at home in Oklahoma.
Such is this life. And that is ok.
We try and try to
Measure our lives
Days, weeks, months, years
The number of seasons
We travel can never
Accurately measure
Our existence
What matters most
Is often invisible
Harder to quantify-
The full impact realized,
After physical days
Have long passed
If only our hearts
Could be weighed
An appraisal revealing
The constant flow
Of life-giving air
Transformed into
Actions of love-
Actions of love
Breathing
Life-giving air-
Leaving the heart full
But never heavy
Always overflowing
Impossible to measure
I suppose there is something about being in quarantine that makes me think more about time. Particularly being quarantined as a new year begins. But it is ok. As my Mom recently said, “Looking forward to better days!” 🙂 ❤
I am excited to have a guest writer on my blog today, my mom. ❤
When I was a little girl, my mom loved to write poetry. Sometimes for special occasions, usually written for or about an individual. She would share them with family and friends. Her words are displayed in frames in many of her siblings’ homes. But more importantly, her words have been stored in hearts.
She has not actively written in many years, but she has consistently encouraged my writing. Our current world circumstances influenced her to write again. She was a little nervous about sharing, so now I get to encourage her. 🙂
I hope her thoughts bring you peace.🌺
Birds singing
Break of day
Tune’s different
In harmony
This day
Flower Blankets
Covering ground
Soft colors
Fragile-Beautiful
This day
Gentle breeze
Dancing leaves
New life memories
New beginnings
This day
Joyful reminders
Hope and love
Steadfastness
Break of day
This day
Great Shepherd’s hand
Gently leads
On mountains
Through valleys
This day
Stand still
Know peace
Given by God
Break of day
This day
“This is the day the Lord has made. We will rejoice and be glad in it.” Psalm 118:24
Cue-a signal (such as a word, phrase, or bit of stage business) to a performer to begin a specific speech or action.
When I think of the word cue, it is usually about music. As a pianist, I’m very good at giving and receiving cues. For example, I might follow a singer’s breathing or lead them into an entrance with tempo/musical changes. The cues help us stay together, resulting in beautiful music.
This week, I’ve been forced to listen to a different kind of cue. It actually took several days for me to even recognize that it was a cue.
If only it had been a musical cue.
But no, this was an emotional cue manifesting in a physical symptom.
The first time it appeared was around 5:00 p.m. I had planned to cook dinner-homemade meatballs, roasted veggies, and pasta.
All the ingredients were ready.
Suddenly, I began to feel a little nauseous. “Hmmm, that’s weird,” I thought. I immediately began to worry about getting sick. But I hadn’t been anywhere, and it was not likely. I almost changed dinner plans to take-out.
But then, I decided to push through. We needed a home-cooked meal. It would surely make us all feel better. So, I cooked. It was yummy. I even baked cookies. When the cookies were done, I realized the nausea was gone.
The same thing happened the next day, at the same time. Curious.
“I wonder if this is stress?” I asked myself. This time, my daughter and I took a short walk around the neighborhood. Guess what? Nausea once again disappeared.
That night, I told my husband what had happened. I also expressed that I thought it was a reaction to stress over all the changes occurring right now. He agreed.
Somehow, just sharing how I was feeling helped.
As I thought about this more, it made sense. I may be putting on a good front, staying calm, and saying I’m not worried. But truthfully, these are unsettling times and they are affecting my emotions. This little cue was trying to get my attention. Trying to tell me it’s ok to not be ok.
The time of day also made sense. Each time I noticed this feeling, it was around 5-5:30 p.m. This is the time of day we would normally be getting home from work. Everyone would be sharing about their day, talking about what went well and what didn’t. Talking about students and what we were planning the next days, weeks, etc.
That has all changed. We are together most of the day at home. Not knowing when we will go back to work. Worrying about our friends and family. Worrying about our students. All things that are out of our control.
No wonder my physical cue was nausea.
The most important thing about cues? They require a response. How could I respond to this one? Well, I’ve found a few things to be helpful.
This experience also made me think of our kiddos. How do they react to stress? What is often their first complaint? “My stomach hurts.” I guess some things never change. 😉
Take care of yourselves, friends. Listen to your body and pay attention to your emotions. Don’t be afraid to say how you’re feeling. ❤
I received a phone call from my doctor’s office this afternoon. Insurance previously denied the claim for a breast MRI I had in April. There were two levels of appeal, and today’s call informed me that our final appeal was not successful.
This news was disappointing. After all, my doctor is a specialist. She weighed all my risk factors before ordering this particular test. I was so confident that information would change the decision.
My risk factors included family history (my mom is a five-year survivor), extremely dense tissue, and my use of hormone replacement therapy. Over the past eighteen years, I’ve experienced extra mammograms, ultrasounds, two MRIs, a lumpectomy, and multiple needle biopsies-all benign.
Rehashing these details did not help. My frustration only grew. And then my sweet husband called. He calmly reminded me that I could not change this outcome. The MRI had provided peace in a moment of uncertainty. And that was more important than money.
Writing through my frustration brought transformation. I am left feeling thankful. Thankful for my mom and my current health status. Thankful for an expert doctor who is comprehensive and thorough. Thankful for a husband who knows what I need to hear just at the right moment.
I do find it interesting that this decision came during Breast Cancer Awareness month. The month in which we celebrate and encourage survivors. A time to remember those no longer with us. Time focused on raising research funds and seeking a cure.
Who knows? Maybe it came at just the right time, forcing me to write.
I will see my doctor later this month for a checkup. My prayer is for continued positive results. I will not live in a spirit of fear for what might happen in the future but will continue to be diligent where my health is concerned.
So in the middle of this pink October, here is my reminder-Early detection is the key! Don’t delay in getting your yearly mammograms!
When I first saw this movie about thirty years ago, it became an instant favorite. Many times, I’ve watched it simply because I needed a good, cleansing cry.
The story has so many beautiful elements. It follows a group of women friends through the love and heartache of life. And it does so with a backdrop of the changing of the seasons.
I didn’t initially appreciate the powerful imagery suggested by the title. Magnolia flowers are large, beautiful blossoms which grow on a magnificent tall tree. Steel is a hard, strong material used in construction. These two words seem to contradict one another. Yet together, they create a picture of beauty and strength. Exactly what the women in the story portrayed.
My mom has six sisters and two sister-n-laws. That meant eight aunts for me growing up in the Mahar family. Along with my grandma, these women are the definition of “steel magnolias.” Beautiful, strong women who have each faced their share of challenges.
After a recent visit with some of them, I began to think about their list of accomplishments. I first created a list of their names and wrote a brief description next to each one. Although they might not recognize it themselves, their qualities and achievements are quite impressive. The following is a comprehensive list describing all of them collectively.
Daughters and sisters
Wives and mothers
Aunts and grandmothers
A single mom, a grieving mom
Breast cancer survivors
Adult college graduates
Artist, nurses, a pianist
Three widowed, one remarried, two deceased
Women of faith
Hard-working
Opinionated
Dependable
Teachers
Faithful
Friends
Patient
Loving
Strong
Kind
Muriel, Pearl, Mary, Elizabeth, Geneva, Sharon, Linda, Martha, Jeanie, Linda ❤
I’m thankful for my mom, grandma, and aunts. Each embodies this picture of strength and beauty in their own way. And together, they create a strong family tree. A tree with strong roots and beautiful blooms. “Steel Magnolias” able to face any challenge this life brings.
I have a small collection of miniature pianos. The very first one was a gift from my mom-a red, ceramic, upright piano with a cute little round stool. I’ve had this piano for as long as I can remember.
There is one more thing which makes this piano extra special. It’s a music box! A metal key on the back must be turned to begin its song. And what song does my red piano play? Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head. If I turned the piano key today, the music would play at an extremely slothful pace, making the song nearly unrecognizable.
So much joy came from turning that key when I was a kid. If I sit quietly and listen, the song still plays in my head. Fast to slow, then stopping as the mechanism winds down. The melody and the lyrics fill my thoughts, just as they did when I was a little girl.
So I just did me some talking to the sun
And I said I didn’t like the way he got things done
Sleeping on the job
Those raindrops keep falling on my head,
They keep fallin’
Funny words for a song. Childlike in nature. I can picture a little girl standing in the rain, shaking her finger towards the sky. Asking the sun why it went away. Wanting the rain to stop.
I really hadn’t given much thought to the history behind the song until now. The original singer was B.J. Thomas. I’m certain I heard his recording on the radio. What I didn’t know-it was written for the movie “Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid” and won an Academy Award. How exciting!
It’s funny. I started thinking about this song yesterday in conjunction with my red, ceramic, music box piano. And then today, it rained all day long. Actually, it’s still raining now. Which leads me to the bridge section of the song.
But there’s one thing I know
The blues they send to meet me
Won’t defeat me, it won’t be long
‘Till happiness steps up to greet me
Now that the day is ending, even though the rain is still falling, I’ll choose to look for that happiness. The happiness which comes from simple things. Simple things like the last line of this song:
Because I'm free
Nothing's worrying me
Simple things like my red, ceramic, music box piano and the precious memories it brings.
Piano Girl 