Here on the frontier, There are falling leaves, Although my neighbors are all barbarions…And you? You are a thousand miles away. There are always two cups on my table.

Archive for the ‘Poetry’ Category

Children Grow Up

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Can Hoo get more awesome?

Three years old already.

Where does the time go.

The Chef, The Professor and Bart the biofuel guy.3 of my children.

The Chef, The Professor and Bart the biofuel guy.
3 of my children.

Now the big boys.

Yesterday they were kicking each others legos over and fighting like crazy midgets.

Now Chef is a daddy. Professor is soon to be a daddy and Bart is getting married come summer 2013.

Whew it was a long haul with those three plus the girls.

I don’t miss those years.

But being a grandma is quite precious.

I am grateful for every crayoned sticky wrinkled work of art Hoo presents and I hang it proudly on the refrigerator door.

This is gmom,

peace out

Image

Photo: Summer In Hooville

 

Hoo the “Merchant of Good Cheer”.

This is gmom,

peace out.

Let Go And Let God

Demolition of a small hut in our backyard.

It was a hard job.

Husband told me to leave it be.

But it was a fair Sunday,  and baby Hoo was sleeping.

So I took up a hammer.

Being unfamiliar with demolition I circled the hut a few times just swinging the hammer and thinking ,

“How do I do this?  How do I do anything?  I just do it.

Piece by piece.  Board by board.

Husband came home surprised to see the hut gone.

“You did that ? You couldn’t take down the hut!”

I could and I did!

It’s like my big sis taught me years ago when we got a rejection letter from a private school for one of my boys. She said,”What are you crying about, grow up, no does not mean no.”

Really?

She was right. I fought for an acceptance for my son and he went to that school.

Don’t tell me what I can’t do.

Oh but the  seismic challenges of the last few months.

A son losing his way.

A daughter walking into a relationship that was so very wrong.

The evil pain creeping from my back to my leg and settling in my foot.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Let go and let God.

That I have learned, and this I know.

Challenges?

Get out of my f**king way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Son.  My beating heart.  Keep your head up.

Love and service, baby. Keep saying it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pretty little girl will one day see that love knows no bounds. Only time and distance lets children scope the scene of their sad day when parent wrenched their sorry behind away from trouble.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My personal enemy? The creeping fire.  Pain.

I will walk through it to drop to my knees so baby boy Hoo can reach me,  and I him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a fair Sunday.

The hut needed demolition.

I took up the hammer and brought the hut down.

Just let me pull nails, and crack wood.

Let me struggle under the weight of heavy wood.

This is gmom,

peace out.

I Found My Happy Place! He Wears Diapers!

 

The organic baby made his first project in daycare!

Marshmallow Fluff smeared on a paper plate with Fruit Loops stuck on it!

 

And he’s a cheap date!

Ya gotta love that!

Next time I go looking for my happy place I’ll start looking while on my knees but this time…

I’ll open my eyes.

Love to all.

This is gmom,

peace out.

The Artful Dodger’s Weekend: Hoo At Home

Hoo peering through the peep hole of the high chair.

Hoo’s Momma went away for a few days.

Gmom, Rose and Grandpa took over.

We are having a busy but awesome time.

We bought a Hoo- size motorcycle to amuse him so if he had a meltdown we had a good distraction handy.But the boy is doing fine, so we just gave it to him.

He did take one spill off of it which required a band- aid,several kisses and quick application of one dum-dum lollipop.

The toe scrape was from chasing Cujo with a handful of  sand from the sandbox.

For a special treat we let Hoo use a real screwdriver to meddle in the workings of a broken fan. It’s his current mechanical obsession. Anytime he started walking away with the screwdriver I say, Hoo get back to fixing that fan or give me the tool. He would give me his blue eyed grin and get straight back to work on the fan. I expect with all the banging it will be be working again in due time.

We have watched a fair bit of Baby Einstein videos both in English and Spanish.

The English versions are quite lovely with Pachelbel Canon in D Minor playing beautifully while a soft female voice recites barnyard animal names. The pictures show sweet images of baby cows, chicks and horses.

The Spanish version has the theme to Mama Mia playing with a child reciting animal names.

Rat, snake, iguana and turtle.

I don’t know what to make of that.

Hoo watching Baby Einstein vids

It’s been busy. But a lot of fun.

Hope your weekend was good.

This is gmom.

Wiping the sticky from the keyboard.

Peace out from Hooville.

We Are Family Like That

When my brother’s fatal prognosis was told to our family. We were grouped together surrounding his wife. Hands all around her. On shoulders. On knees. Supporting and holding.

We are family like that. We hold each other up.

We listened intently to everything the doctor was saying not noticing my mother walking away. My elder sister noticed first.

Where is Mom?

We went to the hospital hallway and saw my mother running down the hospital hallway.  For myself, I had a moment of wanting to let her go. She had the right idea. Run Mom Run. But there was no where to run to. We went after her. Like the Keystone cops. We caught her, crying and struggling, out of control. We surrounded her. Someone brought a chair.

It’s okay mom, it’s okay,it’s going to be okay…

We put hands all around her. Held her. Supported her.  All of us, Including my sister in law.

We are family like that.

Now I understand why she ran.

But there really is no running from life.

These 5 revitalizing days alone at the beach have reminded me, that I am not alone in my struggles.  I have hands all around me. Holding me. Supporting me.

We are family like that.

Remembering Jeff: Like A Prayer

This is how I remember it.

This is how it was.

——————————————————–

It’s called a secondary cancer.

A migratory zone.

Where the cells go to garden.

The brain.

We  sat in the waiting room praying for him.  Losing hope as the hours passed,

as the 7 hour surgery turned into 22.

Finally, the surgeon came out and told us what we already knew.

It was not good.

But for now he was in recovery.

My sisters and I stayed at the hospital and waited for a chance to visit him, for the chance to see that he yet existed and was still amongst us.

At some point in the night the nurses removed the breathing tube.

He spoke in a broken record, PeeWee Herman voice not his own.. “tumor tumor tumor”.

“Tumor’s all gone, honey, tumor is gone.”

I didn’t know if he heard or understood me as he continued his senseless mutterings.

Suddenly, he turned towards me and with  eyes unfocused and snapping left-right, left-right said

“Sing sing sing sing”.

So I sang,

to my brother.

““““““““““““““““““““`

Life is a mystery, everyone must stand alone.
I hear you call my name and it feels like
Home.

When you call my name, it’s like a little
Prayer. I’m down on my knees, I wanna take you
there. In the midnight hour, I can feel your
Power. Just like a prayer, you know I’ll take you there

 

The hard part wasn’t his leaving.

The hard part was being left.

He stayed long enough to say goodbye.

This is gmom,

peace out.

A Father’s Tribute/The Strongest Man

My Father-in-law spoke in Washington this week.

Holocaust Remembrance Day.

He is a survivor, historian and regular speaker at the Holocaust Museum in Washington DC. He was asked to give a short talk at the SEC. I went along. I have heard him speak many times, but hearing him speak publicly is always a special treat that’s hard to pass up. He is in his 80s and I don’t know how much longer he is going to feel up to these excursions. But there he was, dapper as ever, with a discreet American flag pin on his lapel.

The SEC, Securities Exchange Commission  had a full house with an overflow room and the talk was televised to offices in several other locations. While we waited for everyone to get seated I glanced around the room at all the Brooks Brothers suits and carefully coiffed women. They all looked friendly and open. Nice.

My father-in-law gave a recount of his life just before the war, during Hitler‘s regime and his time in concentration camps. The audience was as riveted as they always are. I have heard the stories, read the books so many times that they have lost the “punch in the stomach” effect on me.

The men from his hometown, Warsaw  Poland, forced inside cattle cars,traveling for days, not knowing their destination. The heat unbearable, no  water never mind food. The arrival in concentration camp. Getting off the train to the barking of dogs and Nazis who shot anyone who staggered or tried to run. The death selection lines they passed through. Who shall live and work and who shall go ahead to the human ovens for immediate extermination like so many pests. Horrifying. Imagine your own husband, brother or son going through such a process. The women experienced much the same and the children..

So I sat and listened to him recount, and stand witness.  I have read his memoirs, his published book,  I knew what he told these privileged people was but a glimpse of the nightmare he lived.

Then he told of the last time he spoke to his father,before they knew the horrors that awaited them. He was a boy in his teens. His father blessed him and said, “My son, there are very hard times coming. You will have to be very strong.”  My father in law’s voice broke down with the memory of this last exchange. He brought his hand to his mouth. The audience waited. He gathered himself together and continued. “It was the last time I saw my father.”

I heard gasps behind me. I turned to see a man wiping his eyes.

I think if my father-in-law’s father could see  his only child that survived the war and the time he spent in the concentration camps, who went on to marry and raise a family in America.  A man who never lost his faith in God. A man who stands witness and consistently gathers the strength to go back to one of the world’s most terrible crimes, man against man, he would see his blessing came to fruition.

He would be so proud. My father-in-law was strong when he had to be, and continues to be strong because he chooses to be.

He is the model we live up to, the man we can only aspire to be like, with a strength beyond our understanding.

He is husband to one.

Father to five.

Grandpa to many,

and great-grandpa to a growing number of lucky little souls.

This is gmom,

peace out.

———————————————————————————————————–

                        INVICTUS

OUT of the night that covers me,
  Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank the God that ever will be,
  For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
  I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
  My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
  Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
  Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
  How charged with punishment the road,
I am the master of my fate:
  I am the captain of my soul.(William Henley)

We Played Frisbee

We all went to a local park today.

Kids tossed a frisbee around.

“C’mon Mom play, we’ll teach you…c’mon..”

They wonged the useless disc in wild arcs that most often dived hard in the grass.

I walked the perimeter of the park with Hoo  thinking of the friends so recently lost.

My mind is racing with thoughts and notions.

I’m going to quit my job, I’m going to live on the beach,I have to get out of town…I just have to.

The frisbee  hits at my feet.

I pick it up and easily throw it back-hand.

It flies fast.  Flat. Far. Straight.  Way beyond where the kids are playing.

“Hey Mom! Where did you learn to throw a frisbee like that???”

My mind flashes to a sunny faced boy winging a frisbee,

and I have to  smile.

He taught me this,

With frisbee the lesson is,

Just let it go.

A Little Child Shall Lead Them (Isaiah 11:6)

Recently our community was dealt a one 2 punch.

A double loss that took the balance and breath from many of us,

gmom included.

The sorrow was irrefutable. The pain undeniable.

With the Holiday upon us we mourned silently.

Celebrating was out of the question.

A heaviness hung over us,

the Spring storms reflected our troubled spirits.

But there are those you encounter in life who unwittingly walk you through difficult times.

Their goodness, integrity and even purity make it easier for us to…well… get on with it.

This is that story.

In a basement room a  young woman’s smile

And her earnest husband’s sweetness,

lifted my heart.

They don’t even know me. Not really.

But I went with them,

As they birthed their child.

As much as this woman held on to me,

I held on to her.

And in that moment of birth I cannot say much but this.

The world revolved softly again,

colors came back into focus,

and I felt the earth solid and true

as it had always been.

It seemed fitting to leave the new family,

with the father watching over the nursing mother.

The sun was setting.

The sky grew dim, then dark.

Day folded silent into night as I walked home.

This is gmom,

Peace out.

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