Two generations

As I was sitting with my mom on one of her last days on earth, my daughter was holding her grandmother's hand. It's the only picture I took...sparing my mother any more indignity.

My daughter's hand is so young, so ready to work...my mom's hand is worn out...rheumatoid arthritis took over many years ago, age spots, hard work and lots of wringing has taken its toll.

I wish I had the fore-thought to put my hand in there too...then we would have had 3 generations...but nevertheless...this is probably the last picture my mom will ever have...and that's okay...I will always remember the moment she brought that crippled hand to my cheek and told me "I love you too."

Born Again Christmas...1984

Born Again Christmas

The children are in their squeaky beds
(And I thank God they are there!)
A cup of coffee and I have a long night ahead
Wondering how to afford toys, from who knows where.

My eyes are closed...my prayers are silent.
Through my thoughts, God speaks to me.
"The gifts you give your children this Christmas eve night
Is to live each day as a Christian family."

"I know Lord," I say, "but they want....things."
He says, "Be still my love and see the Greatest Gift to thee,
Look beneath the tree so shining
My Son Jesus, in the scene of the Nativity."

Christmas Morn is here, and listen to the noise!
No, dear reader, not of Christmas toys,
But the hand sewn dress, stuffed bears, used bikes and some poems,
Have given my children their Christmas joys.

The gleam in their eyes when I read the Bible
Lets me know, the Lord is right.
Things are not the essential this day
Compared to His Gift of Eternal Life.

Hello Now

After all the heartaches, toil and strife,
I decided to take a look at my life.
Even though the down times seem to abound
I can't help but think goodness is all around.

I took another glance at the past
And am so glad the pain doesn't last.
Every once in a while a memory will spark
A feeling I had when my life was dark.

But now, through divorce and redefeat
I can proudly say I'm standing on my feet.
Sometimes, you know, it's nice to be alone.
Someone elses problems I don't have to bemoan.

Then I smile as I think of tonight.
The children were laughing, to my delight.
They are settled after these long years
And have oneness with each other and their peers.

So when I begin to feel lonely and sad,
I try to remember when things were really bad.
The greatest aspiration I have in looking back,
Is that I am alive, well, happy and all intact.

Four poems

CHANGES

When thirteen came around
My little clown
Turned into a body full of anger
Full of happiness
Full of mixed up unhappy feelings
That made the whole family
Step Back.

When thirteen came around
This young boy
Turned into a body full of emotions.
Full of different words
Full of mixed up feelings for girls
That made the whole family
Hold our Breath.

When Thirteen came around
My oldest son
Turned into a wonderful man-boy
Full of different actions
Full of mixed up love for family
that made everyone
Swell up in Pride. written in 1987

ARMS CONTROL

He knocked down a picture
When he walked through the door.
As he turned around to pick that up
The bookcase fell on the floor.
He said "excuse me" as he picked up the books.
The rest of the family just gave him exasperated looks.

He finished picking up the books
And sat down with a sigh,
But when he did that
His long arm hit his brother as he walked by.
He said "excuse me" as he got hit upon the head,
Then decided he'd be safer snuggled up in bed.

So, my youngest son climbed the stairs
(Only falling up them one time)
As he opened his bedroom door
We nearly lost our minds.
Even though he tried his best to not make a mess
He hit the chest of drawers...which is now drawer-less.

Mind you, he tried hard not to be careless,
It's just that at this age
Parts of him seem out of proportion...
Maybe he should be in a cage
Until we believe this growing has slowed
Or at least until he can prove he has arms control. written in 1987

MELISSA
My daughter you remind me of a butterfly
You are neither here nor there.
You flutter around seemingly aimlessly
I don't think you even know where.

My daughter you remind me of a lion.
You are untamed and loud.
You stalk around your room...trapped
Your one voice sounds like a crowd.

My daughter you remind me of a cricket
Your voice goes on and on
You jump from one subject to another
And you always think you're being stepped on.

My daughter, you remind me of me
Your insecurity and your doubt.
You have grown up so much this year
But there's still so much to talk about.

My daughter you remind me of a dream
I had once when I was young...
You have the ability to make dreams come truth
And this one...I want to belong.
written 10/18/1986


HOPE AFTER HELL
In my life you reared your ugly head.
I felt I would be better off dead.
You took every emotion I ever had
Mixed them with waste and everything that is bad.

You took my heart and broke it in two
You took my eyes and made them blue.
You took my breath and left me void.
You took my emotions and with them you toyed.

In my life I fought you tooth and nail.
And I am around today, my story to tell.
How I went from heaven to utter hell
Then from hell to heaven...now I am well.

I took my heart and gave it to God.
I took my eyes and read the Word.
I took my breath and used my voice
I took my emotions and recovered from divorce.
October 1984

Who I Am...written around 1984

My talent is hereditary.
My hair is colored by a leading manufacturer.
My teeth are owned by the bank.
My eyelashes belong to Aziza.
My face belongs to Mary Kay.
My lips are miscellaneous pink.
My body is molded by Whitman Samplers.
The bounce in my step is Reebok.
My personality has been tempered by divorce.
The love in my heart has been nurtured by three children.

Stuff

So, I fasted yesterday. I know...we're supposed to fast in our closets. But all my closets are full of stuff...and there was no place to be quiet.

Actually, I fasted for some dear friends...fasted for health and healing for Cody and Amy. What did I fast? Most people fast meals... And I guess I could have done that...but instead I fasted something that has become a habit to me....and a bad habit I might add....almost like an addiction...so I fasted for one day...away from the Internet and from the TV.

It was a day of cleansing....not only cleansing my mind of the mindless crap...but also cleansing ....

I found myself cleaning closets. Going through memories since 1960. Wondering why I had kept some for so long. I found a letter I wrote to my oldest son...WAY before I was a Christian... and it was obvious by the way I wrote. I had written little things he had done as a child. I'm sure he's the only one I had time to do that with...since two more children came in 4 years...and it seems I tend to let thoughts pass without writing things down. I wish I had written more things....as I read the note I had written to my son, it brought back memories that somehow have been locked up in the nether regions.

I'll put the memories in a scrapbook...because the letter just isn't written well...and there are some things I wrote that don't make any sense....and then the feelings of anger I felt over my crumbling marriage are entwined within the lines of this letter written to a little child. And none of my children...even as adults... need to read about the death of their parents' marriage.

But going through some other papers, I found poems I had written. Poems I wrote as I was healing from a childhood that never existed....poems of anger as memories began to emerge....poems of resignation and renewal....poems of of mediocrity, of hope.

As I read the poems that came from deep within the abyss of an emerging woman, I cried. I cried for the little girl lost in a woman's body. I cried for the deep-seated anger of someone trying to understand....and I rejoiced as the pages of words became full of hope, forgiveness and honor.

Was that me....did I really pen all these words? Yes it was me...and as I read each poem, I knew exactly where I was at the time...the place I wrote it....the mindset as I allowed the pen to draw my emotions into words.

In later blogs I will share some of those poems....poems of a sad woman/child...poems of a woman who had not yet found the Love of her life (Isaiah 54) and poems of her Husband's redeeming love. Some of the poems are very revealing as a young woman of 28 or 29 watching a man 10 years younger....and silently wishing..... :-)

Some poems are full of anger for a mother whose bitterness and fury cut like a razor through the soul of a woman looking for love in all the wrong places.

and poems of humor.... such as:

I have three children
who often have battles
One is quiet...one is loud....one rattles.

(each of my children know exactly which one they are!)

God allows us to fast to come closer to Him....to partner with The Mind of Christ. As we fast, He reveals not only the needs of those we fast for...but also...our needs. Rejoice...He ain't finished with us yet!

Awake

I woke up too early this morning.
In my mind, words and thoughts run like a gerbil on an exercise wheel.

I'm not sure what makes my mind work overtime like it does. I cannot change the world...or even change someone's mind with my thoughts that keep me awake.

I worry about people I love.

I grow concerned about decisions made---and decisions not made.

So I sit here in the early morning...really not wanting to drink a cup of coffee just in case sleep wants to join me...but on the other hand, the sun is rising...and maybe I should just act like it's any other work day.

Coffee is winning out. Now all I need is a maid to fix it for me....