There we were Standing on Grandma’s front porch Me and Mom All her sisters Even Grandma Was there talking And smiling Strange how young She looked I should have been A child-And yet, There I stood Seeing them all Thru grown-up eyes A gift all its own As one sister drove away We all waved thru smiles And tears, uncertain When she would return Such is the bond of Mothers, daughters, sisters Pouring love and strength Thru laughter and tears Over each new generation Of mothers, daughters, sisters I awoke in a sea of emotions Thankful for the strong women in my past Thankful for vivid dreams invaded by memories
We celebrated our girl with a beautiful bridal shower this weekend! Her Aunt Paula transformed our home into boho sunflower magic! And her Aunt Andrea and Cousin Hannah made sure we had lots of tasty treats. The coffee punch was especially yummy!
Watching my daughter open gifts, and listening to sweet conversations was surreal. Impossible to take it all in. Another reminder of the joyful steps on this journey.
The image in my mind is clear Not even this misty morning Can push it away- You are standing In the living room Wearing your new Purpley-pink cape A crown and plastic heels- Your precious curls And sweet smile Posing for a picture But I see more than a picture I’m suddenly back in time Sitting on the couch Smiling back at my sweet girl- Another shift, and I am Once again seated Watching you in amazement Precious curls and a sweet smile No longer wearing dress-up clothes Now, standing in your wedding dress A beautiful bride, always my sweet girl
When clouds appear soft Their colors muted Blending one with another Covering the sky With a grace-filled blanket Evenly sharing their weight Allowing for a healing release Of raindrops so gentle You barely notice them- We forgot our umbrella Should we go back? Let’s follow the raindrops Into this unexpected reprieve From the busyness of life
There’s nothing quite so humbling as a drug test. I understand the necessity. And the one I took this week was not my first rodeo. This time, I just paid more attention to the details.
Leave your purse here. Use that hand sanitizer. Fill this cup to the 2-line. You have four minutes. Do not flush the toilet.
No difficulty following the directions. But then I discovered the sink was disabled…I couldn’t wash my hands. Walking out the door, I immediately reached for that original hand sanitizer.
You can wash your hands in the sink over there if you’d like.
Yes, I’d like. Do some people choose not to wash their hands? Decided not to dwell on that.
Leaving the testing facility, I realized everyone was being tested for a different reason. Some, like me, for a new job. Others, for not-so-fun reasons. Each had their own story. One worth telling, even if they hadn’t realized it yet.
The same day, I began listening to this week’s episode of This American Life, The Call. The subject was an unusual hotline set up for drug users. What are the odds? This is not your typical hotline. The purpose is to encourage people not to do drugs alone. Talk about a paradigm shift.
This story allowed personal looks through different lenses. The operator, the caller preparing to use drugs, and the paramedic. The point wasn’t to change the person using drugs. It was to keep them from using, and possibly dying, alone. To give them another day of life.
Sometimes the endings were happy, sometimes not. But in each story, there was dignity instead of judgment. Caring instead of disregard.
I will never forget this conversation between mother and daughter.
Daughter-What do you want from me? Mother-It would be good if you didn’t die today.
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!
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.
Joy filling The vastness Of desert skies Sadness Sinking To the depths Of ocean floors Strength Standing Gracefully On the horizon As the sun Continues To rise and set
This Sunday, I am thinking about my sweet mom. She is strong and determined to keep going. And I am so very proud of her. ❤
I first met the birthday girl a little over thirty years ago. She was kind and accepting even then. It is hard to believe she was my age when we met. Maybe a little younger. A mom and grandma, it seemed her life was already complete. At least, that was my perspective.
Here we are, thirty years later. It seems a lot more life has happened in that time. More grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and the death of a spouse after fifty-plus years of marriage.
So now, as we celebrate her, I try to imagine her perspective. Those thirty years, though eventful, only represent a portion of her life. She did a lot of living prior.
She speaks lovingly of her parents. Just yesterday, about how her dad played the piano. Talks regularly to her siblings who are still living. Keeps up with distant relatives and old friends.
Has a love of horses that began as a child. She recalls fondly walking with her girlfriend to the stables. Pretending to gallop as they walked, then riding horses before returning home. She even bought two horses in her lifetime!
Her second horse was sold before she moved from California to New York. A job as a flight attendant at American Airlines called. And that move, that job, lead to meeting her husband. The rest is history, as they say.
So, how would such a girl celebrate her 80th birthday? Surrounded by daughters, granddaughters, great-granddaughters, daughter-in-law, granddaughter-in-law…you get the picture. Eating, laughing, remembering, and enjoying time together. And, of course, attending a horse show.
This birthday girl wears her crown of white with pride. As well as her life experiences. Sharing what we are willing to hear. Continuing to move forward, making new memories.
Didn’t think much about my choice of clothing this morning. Just felt like wearing my pink dress. Yes, I know it’s the first day of October. And yes, I do love Fall colors. But here I am, dressed in pink.
And then I saw a pink ribbon…instantly reminding me that October is Breast Cancer Awareness month. A time to focus on the importance of research and early detection. A time for friendly reminders to get your mammogram!
Most importantly, I am thankful all over again for my mom. Eight years after a complete mastectomy, she remains cancer free!
Happy October! From thankful me, wearing my pink dress.
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.
Piano Girl 