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Tag Archives: family
Thanksgiving
Attitude
Gratitude
Acknowledging life’s gifts
Grace and wisdom
Dignity, beauty, poise
Large family gatherings
Laughter and noise
Pumpkin pie and turkey
Gravy poured with ease
Cranberries as elegant garnish
for abundant dinner, so tasty
A prayer of thanks
Recognizing all that has been given
Appreciation for life’s bounty
All that makes life worth livin’
Grateful for life’s blessings
Goodness all around
Thankful for friends and family
Whose support and love know no bounds
Reservoir
(image credit: selflovewarrior.com)
Family and friends encircle
bestow comfort, warmth
add protective layer of strength
My heart swells with gratitude
reservoir filling
to nourish and quench in times of need
times when heartache withers
times of miscommunication or drought of silence
Yesterday’s troubles remain
not willing to leave without a fight
but they cower
in the presence of hope
My Baba with the Babushka
Comforting aroma of fresh bread
beaten, kneaded, punched down
frustration of monotonous existence
Sticky dough serves as punching bag for emotions
allayer of mood
Metallic tang of well water
dipped from pail on counter
smacks of earthiness and strength
necessary to draw it forth
to sustain others
How many pails have you hauled in your lifetime?
Buckets balanced in each hand
scales of impartiality measuring judgment in your mind?
Sloshing, spilling despite effort to save each precious drop
Water for washing, drinking, cooking
lever pulled and pushed
pumped up and down
brought back and forth
dogs nip at heels
white geese with orange beaks
honk indignantly as you cross their path
oblivious to your resentment with this plodding, repetitious task
Sweat on brow
hard working hands
calloused, hardened from toil in
garden and field
yet soft and welcoming
ready to lift and embrace
a teary tot or boisterous child
Mother Goose apron
fashioned from flour and potato sacks
full of seeds
or hand picked eggs
fresh from chicken coop nest
warm to touch
fodder for family meals
base of nutrition
Surrounded by relatives
Baba quietly goes about her business
stirring pots and pans
on wood burning stove
As she listens to conversations
raucous children
scurry about like
field mice underfoot
dart here and there
rustle her skirts
swishing movement
as little hands grab food
off the table
before dashing back outside
wooden door swinging in their wake
She patches clothes
sews patterns
in a mud chinked room
lit by kerosene lamp
electricity a luxury that she did not enjoy
until late in her life;
labours long after dark
heavy breathing, soft snores of family
nocturnal accompaniments
for this tiresome composition she is
performing
Ukrainian accent held in check
broken English strange on the tip
of her Slavic tongue
hair held in check
by her dark babushka
sombre color
an echo of her
dispirited mood
stray locks of hair
attempting freedom
are pushed back
with weary hands
Her family grows
one by one leaving her behind
to pump water
and knead bread
Returning with their own families on weekends
a growing brood gathers
continue to drink metallic water
continue to eat fresh baked bread
flour dust clouds
hide
Storm gathering behind Baba’s eyes
While the world progresses around her
her environment remains bleak and unevolved
pump and hold
pump and hold
pump
and
hold
Dimly lit
slowly fading
until one day
She leaves
She walks away
Her shift is done
She enters a home
for seniors
for those unable to care for themselves
for those unwilling to care for others
Some say she snapped
call her crazy
cuckoo-nana
She grew tired
this beautiful “Aunt Jemima” Baba of mine
Tired of serving others
Tired of the well
Tired of the back and forth, up and down,
punching and kneading
It was time for her to be served
and that’s how it was
until she passed away
No more time on her primitive farm
Her sentence had been served
City Park Springtime
City life glimpses:
Greyhound
shaggy grey and white fringe
hangs in its eyes; patiently
waiting for owner to finish reunion
friends not seen since winter hiatus
Mama and papa geese stand guard
over brood of goslings who
waddle and stumble drunkenly
along muddy river bank
Green herbs outside busy restaurant
fill small wooden garden boxes
wait expectantly for use in
fresh salad or to add delicate flavor
to delicious entrees
Pedestrians amble
jackets and sweaters unzipped
tied around waist
wrapped around shoulders
air warmer than expected
Young lovers pose along bridge
spontaneous selfie
quick kiss
lingering embrace
self consciously pull apart
as others approach
Toddler whizzes by on wooden strider
oblivious to any danger
excitement alive on his face
His mother several paces behind
awkward on roller blades
her staccato movement
sharp contrast to son’s
blithe freedom
Cyclists zip along
warning bell heard second before flash past
Dogs on leash
obedient
tugging
dodging other park users
A flurry of activity
as city dwellers shed winter cloak
welcoming spring
Union
(the photo is stock footage from the internet)
I have a blended family
we live in a blended world
all part of the same fabric
same cloth of life
any barriers or walls
denied access
segregation
delineation
separation
are artificial
truth bleeds through division
seeps into awareness
permeates everything
if eyes are open to perceive
We are One
a colorful tapestry
a world of ideas, knowledge, talent
commingled
My Reality
As I release my disillusionment
Morgan raises her sleepy head
and sits up on the warm, moss covered rock
where she lay
She cocks her head
and looks quizzically in my direction
My hands are raised in supplication
tears fall silently down my cheeks
I am abandoning what I thought was
and I am facing what is
It hurts
Morgan says nothing
watching in silence
My heart is breaking
as I release my idea of what a family should be
media driven ideas of mother, father, children and a dog
social ideas of a nuclear nest that is warm, nurturing
a source of comfort
My reality is a reality of divorce
not amicable
custody battles
fighting for my children
fighting for my sanity
I look at Morgan
she remains silent
but I see compassion in her eyes
The emptying of my hurt continues
My reality is a reality of new beginnings
re marriage
step parenting
Welcoming more children into my life
I cry as I am accepted by these young people
but continue to face rejection by my own
My reality is a reality of joy but also disappointment
it is with the disappointment
where disillusionment lies
hopes and dreams dashed
Reality is hard to face
I want to hang on to what I want to believe
not the reality that is in my face
To have a child facing jail time is a harsh reality
what happened? where did we go wrong?
the blame game explodes to the surface
and is difficult to quell
To have a child feeling so distressed
they try to take their own life –
that is a much harsher reality
Morgan gasps and comes to my side
her silence continues
but her presence is comforting
The desire to help, take away the pain
make it better for my child
is consuming
but ineffective
I am rebuffed, accepted, rebuffed again
I can no longer hold any illusion of my world
Reality is before me and cannot be ignored
Morgan embraces me and holds tight
I feel safe, secure, protected
and wish I could do the same
for my family
As I embrace Morgan
I embrace hope
hope for healing of tormented minds
and restoration of severed relationships
I hope for loving kindness to prevail
for peace and well being for myself and my children
I hope for a new reality