Shine!
Speak up!
Don’t let your
Light go
Unnoticed.
There will be
Those who try
To take away your
Essence;
Those who cannot
See your worth.
Ignore them.
Listen to that
Voice, that
Incredible voice
Telling you,
Girl, you are
Incredible!
Tag: love
We Do Everything Right (So Why Am I So Sad?)
We don’t head to the beach on the 4th of July
We know better after all of these years.
We don’t stay out late on Saturday nights
Indulging in silliness, downing our beer.
We avoid crowded places, concerts, and games,
The stressors outweighing the fun.
No more jostling with shoppers for bargains
Online shopping gets everything done.
Theater movies we seldom attend
The prices and people too much
On Demand provides our viewing now
Yet I feel so out of touch.
Just once in awhile I believe
We should pretend to be much less together:
Go play in the rain, drink a carafe of wine
Brave the crowds in all kinds of weather.
We do such sensible stuff in our sensible lives
So why does that make me so sad?
Perhaps I am not meant to be sensible
Perhaps I’m to be slightly mad.
To Myself at 18
What’s the rush?
Why the urgency?
Just a few years
Ago you were 12,
Riding a bicycle
Pigtails flying
Elbows scraped.
Take a moment to
Be a young woman
Out exploring in
This world alone.
Don’t be hurried
To plunge headlong
Into domesticity.
Your choices won’t
Be easy, my friend
Perhaps they aren’t
Meant to be clear,
But you’ll make it.
You’re strong and
weird and wonderful.
Yesterday I caught myself thinking about my grandchildren and how quickly they’re growing. The oldest two are on the verge of becoming teenagers. I became a little weak in the knees thinking that when I was that age, unbeknownst to me, I was a mere six years away from settling into marriage with Studly.
Six years was the distance between goofy slumber parties with my friends and keeping house for a husband.
My choices weren’t
Clear back then,
Perhaps they never
Were meant to be.
I do love my life,
Even while I wonder
What might’ve been.
Polarized
her tightly pinched lips
sickly white from forced pressure
pushing love away.
giggles erupting
uncontained mirth engulfing
overtaking us.
no smiles found her eyes
wary, watchful orbs untouched
by life’s happiness.
prayers heard solemnly
lovingly tucked in warm beds
sweet dreams little ones.
slippered feet silenced
anxious to avoid conflict
too quiet children.
holding on tightly
waltzing in circles of joy
her love unrestrained.
Peace, people!
A Special Gift
For a combination Mother’s/Father’s Day gift our daughter had this made for Studly and me. It’s a beautiful reminder of all we’ve been through and of just how far we’ve come.
The border lists all the places we’ve lived in our marriage. In the lower right hand corner the names of our children and grandchildren are written. All around our names are our interests and Studly’s famous sayings, “Don’t say whoa in a mud hole,” “Second Sucks,” and “Can’t never could.”
The “Really, Really” is how Studly signs his cards to me. He’s been doing so since before we married. The one time he forgot I thought he wanted to leave me.
Notice the cow in the upper right hand corner. That represents Salem Sue, the huge Holstein that adorns a hill outside New Salem, North Dakota, where we lived for 18 months. The town, not the hill; although, I always told people we lived behind the left udder.
The remainder of the picture contains little bits of our lives, our hobbies and activities. Studly golfs. I drink wine. We both follow the Dallas Cowboys and ride motorcycles. Oh, and we both look like idiots trying to climb out of our kayak.
When I get old, this will be my touchstone, my connection to our past. What a wonderful gift!
Smiled
He smiled
I ducked my head.
he spoke
i can’t remember
what he said.
it was probably
just hello or
maybe a simple hi.
whatever it was
opened up a whole
new world in the
blink of an eye.
love starts that way,
you know
when you least
expect it.
it’s real all the
same and sometimes
lasts forever.
Love Wins
Today in the United States of America… 
love
wins this day
hatred must be
stilled,
for now,
but let’s not be
complacent
it will remain;
lurking, waiting,
around the edges
of ourhappiness
just keep tamping
on it gently
reminding hate
it has no place
here.
Peace, people!
Daddy and the Perfect Bag
Every day I spend a little time thinking about my Daddy. I don’t plan to; it just happens. He was quite a guy, and he impacted our lives in many ways.
Studly Doright and I were privileged to have Daddy live with us the last few years of his life, and it was a great experience for all of us; although, I’m sure Daddy often thought we were nuts. That’s ok, he was a little nuts, too.
Daddy loved golf and was in part responsible for Studly playing. But, by the time he moved to Melbourne, FL, where we lived at the time, Daddy’s COPD prevented him from hitting the course as much as he’d have liked.
He still played a few times, though, even earning a “Closest to the Pin” trophy in a charity tournament. Man, was he proud of that trophy! Any visitor to our home was invited to gaze on it in awe.
Long after Daddy stopped playing he would sit out in our garage imagining courses he’d played in years gone by and putting together the perfect set of clubs for a round of golf there. Often Studly would go looking for one of his clubs only to find it taking up space in Daddy’s “dream bag.”
“Gerald,” Studly would ask, “Have you seen my 5 wood?”
“Yeah, it might be in my bag,” Daddy would say. “I was thinking of number 4 at the Floydada Country Club. I thought I could reach the green with that 5 wood.”
Even now that Daddy has been gone for many years we still go looking in his bag anytime a club is missing, just in case he needed it for that perfect round.
Miss you Daddy. I hope you’ve got just the right clubs for whatever course you’re playing now.
My Heart
When you call my name
my lonely heart holds its breath
afraid of loving.
So whisper the words
tell me you need me always
but don’t say my name.
for names hold power
as every lover knows
a twist in the gut.
Peace, people!
Harper D’s Day
Our youngest grandchild, Harper, celebrates her third birthday today. That seems impossible. Only yesterday she was a tiny, helpless infant. Nowadays, she’s a feisty little handful who talks to me on FaceTime for as long as she can make herself sit still. Then it’s “I’m all done with Nana!” and off she goes to sing “Uptown Funk” or “Let it Go.”
I wrote this poem for Harper when she was upset about not getting to attend school with her older siblings.
D Wants to Ride
The big yellow bus came to D’s house today.
Garrett got on the big yellow bus.
McKayla got on the big yellow bus.
D could not get on the big yellow bus.
“You must be three, and you are only two,” said Garrett.
“You are way too little,” said McKayla.
“I am big,” said D.
“I can count,
I can sing,
I can climb,
I can swing.”
“Just one more year,” said Garrett.
“You will be a big girl next year,” said McKayla.
“But I AM a big girl!” Insisted D.
“I can play,
I can dance,
I can run
Really fast!”
“D,” said Garrett, “Be our baby for awhile.”
“D,” said McKayla, “Stay little for awhile.”
D thought and thought. “OK,” she said.
“I will be your baby for one more year.
I will still count and sing, climb and swing.
I will still play and dance and run very fast.
But next year I will get on the big yellow bus!”
“Bye, D,” said Garrett.
“Bye, D,” said McKayla.
“Bye big yellow bus!” said D. “I’ll see you next year.”
Praying for Eyebrowz 