Posts Tagged With: memories

IN A GARDEN . . . AS IN LIFE

We don our gardening boots and floppy hat

and brave the sweaty burning sun.

.

With aching knees and blackened hands

we love the dirt

that nourishes all our promises.

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From the coldest winds

and driest heat

we protect our unborn bulbs

with acceptance

and a smile.

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And long before she bursts open

and into glorious song

already we are in love

with the dream.

.

In a garden . . . as in life

our toiling makes no guarantee

of fairness or reward

.

but we do it anyway . . . on faith.

.

And sometimes . . . we are allowed

to glimpse

the gloriousness of a precious petal

only to have it

.

quickly fall away.

.

That is when

we must close our eyes

to see the flower.

LEAF TEARS upclose

Dedicated to all Mothers suffering the loss of a child.

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Categories: God/Spiritual, Grief/Healing, Nature, Poetry | Tags: , , , , , , , , | 33 Comments

THERE IS NO TIME

We contemplate but do not understand elgin upclose

We try to control but settle for measuring

Like day into night

Summer into winter

Life into death

*

When joyfulness visits

we cling desperately

trying to preserve it

and hold it still

but it takes flight

and vanishes into happiness

*

And when the sadness comes

as it will in life

as it should

it stands forever frozen

full of emptiness and sorrow

CLOCK FRZN SNWY

*

The twisted tragedy

is that we fight to hold on

and struggle to let go

*

It teases and tortures

*

Years have passed since I lost you

Or was that just a breath ago?

I close my eyes and live a lifetime

and then I blink . . . and you are gone

*

In this magnificent remarkable life

there is sweetness in the rain

and comfort in a quiet winter morning

A WINTER SCENE

There is wondrousness

in birth, growth, change

*

And there is healing

in the laughter of friends

*

And there is love

*

These things cannot be frozen

but they can be captured and embraced

and treasured

forever

*

The bitter sweetness in the grieving

is that the greatness of our pain

is the measurement of our love

*

It is a blessed and glorious grieving

sunrise for blog

There is no time . . . there are only precious moments.

Categories: Grief/Healing | Tags: , , , , , , , | 23 Comments

THE WHITE SHIRT

There he is, so handsome in his dark suit and white dress shirt. Even the sun celebrates our reunion as she bounces off the skyscrapers and dances teasingly on the rim of his glasses.

“Julia!” He calls to me.

I love the way he says my name. It sounds so eloquent and romantic, adorned in his educated accented European-ness.

I go to him and climb into his open arms.

My hands slide beneath his suit and pull him close. My face finds that place where his neck and shoulder meet, and nestles there. His shirt is crisp, cool, and fresh. I like its starchy white formality. His muscles tighten beneath my hands. I like that, too.

We stand still in our embrace. I could stay this way forever and live a lifetime with my face buried in the safety of his shirt.

Passion, like hunger, will subside if you ignore it long enough. Things go silent. I thought them departed, but they were only dormant.

Now he is igniting me; like starting a car . . . or a fire.

Through closed eyes the moments come, overwhelming me, reminding me . . . of all the wanting, of all the empty nights, and the eternal missing hours.

“Uhhh . . . I forgot how good this feels” I whisper.

He pulls me closer.

“I’m so glad I forgot”, I whimper, “It would have been excruciating”.

Remembering that this is just a visit and our time limited, a feeling of dread washes over me as a new thought comes. I say nothing and quietly fight the tears . . .

“Now, I will have to forget all over again.”

CLOSE UP the one!

Categories: Love, Romance/Dating | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , | 35 Comments

IT’S ALL RELATIVE

Gosh, I was cute when I was young. We all were. Like goofy adorable little puppies.

Look at me in this pic. Quite the helmet head. Wow. Ha ha.

I look at this pic now, some thirty years later, and the first thing I notice is that I actually have eyebrows! And a firm jaw line with no crazy duo of jowly thingies, like I have now. And I have only one neck. Wow. I fogot that. But I do remember how self-conscious I used to be about my looks. Nothing ever seemed quite right or good enough.

It’s been the blink of an eye and here I am in my fifties. Now I’m sporting a 30-pound muffin top that I’m ready to name (Mary Francis) and start a Facebook page for, my eyebrows are merely wispy remnants, and my butt, which, back in the day, I didn’t want to be big, has now deflated like a birthday balloon two weeks after my birthday. Sheesh. It’s just cruel what time can do to an old gal’s body.

I’m working at improving myself though. On the inside, where there’s still hope. I’m trying to focus more on my inner beauty and worry less about my outer losses.

I look back . . . with some big fat regrets. Man, I wasted so much time just being all messed up. I spent a lifetime grieving for people and things that were gone. There were so many things I was going to do . . . and be.

We had it all. We were young.  But time just didn’t carry the same significance as it does now.

Tic tock. Tic tock.

That sound you hear is NOT your biological clock. That is your life clock! And time’s a flying!

But you know what? It’s all relative.

You know how we look back to when we were twenty or thirty and see cute little puppies?

Well, there will come a day in the not-that-far-away future, when we’re in our seventies or eighties and we will look back on THIS time and say, “Wow. Look how gorgeous we were! We still had all our own teeth and hair! We could still dance, and walk unassisted, and drive!”

Don’t you see? Our fifties have become our new thirties!

This is it, folks. This is prime time. So let’s kick it up a notch. There is no red Easy Button and there are no do-overs. Let’s laugh as much as we can and create great memories everyday, so that when we are actually REALLY OLD, we can look back and say, “Weren’t our fifties just the best years ever?”

It’s all relative.

Tic tock. Tic tock.

Categories: Humor, Inspiration/Motivation, Physical Health | Tags: , , , , , , , | 38 Comments

PRICELESS ART

Another day, another loss . . . all great love has a cost.

Please remember just to breathe, as you take this time to grieve.

*

Life is our gift from God above, and He blesses it with love.

Some folks say these gifts don’t last, but God won’t rob us of our past.

These blessings that we receive come with no special guarantees.

One day here, gone tomorrow . . . one day joy, the next, great sorrow.

*

You won’t see that face again?

Just close your eyes, my troubled friend.

God’s gifts will never leave your heart

your memories are your priceless art.

 

One of the few pics I have of all the Kovach kids. It’s hard to believe that Teri, Chris, and Steve have all passed on. These memories are my priceless art.

 (Pic: Teri w/arms around Joe and Brenda; Chris next to her, holding Steve’s hand; me, off to the side, holding Steve’s other hand).

Categories: Grief/Healing, Poetry | Tags: , , , , , , , , , | 42 Comments

CLASS REUNION

I put the top down on my convertible and start up the car. The air is warm and mild and it smells sweet. It is so quiet that I can hear my tires on the road as I pull away. It is a rare and perfect early summer morning.

I drive slowly from the Grosse Ile Yacht Club while still basking in the afterglow of a successful event and a wonderful night of laughter and silliness with friends. My 35th high school class reunion has just ended.

I leave the radio off, drive in the silence of a 2:00 a.m. morning, and get lost in fun recollections of the evening.

My first thought is of me tending the table at the entrance to our party. I remembered NO ONE! I recall how I began the evening with, “I’m sorry, I don’t remember too many of our classmates; what’s your name, please?” and ended up with, “Who are you?!”

Patti, a kind classmate, recalled me asking her to join the committee and then promptly proclaiming my exasperation at my own involvement and saying, “But I don’t even like people!” She told me tonight, after several drinks, how that had scared her a little. But she joined me anyway. And she was vital to the resulting wonderful evening. I call her brave. And gracious.

One of our committee members wore a striking ensemble that inspired the evening’s most memorable quote which involved a wedge of watermelon and was thusly dubbed, “the watermelon lady!” A title I suspect that she will wear for a very long time. I remember telling her to act like a rind. She laughed and did something funny with her arms. (I will post something like this on her Facebook wall later).

And our poor DJ. I kept calling him Tim, although his name was Paul. Thing is, I hired him. He smiled a lot when he saw me coming.

And my somewhat reserved friend, the “closet” dancer. She was quite the flexible little creature out there dancing tonight. She moved so quickly that I was only able to get one pic of her. I muse now in understanding of her intense addiction to, “So You Think You Can Dance?”. . . And another piece of the puzzle falls into place.

I remember how we all laughed at our graduation pictures that were on our nametags. I never knew the handsome guy I talked to at our pre-party the night before until I saw his nametag tonight. “Oh, THAT’S who you are!” I screamed in recognition.

I think about the infamous “rock” that adorns our school’s entrance and how every year a proud class will declare themselves by painting it with their graduation year. Ours was 1977.

Couple that with the mustache and beard that I drew on my nametag and titled, “Menopause”, and I have just one word of explanation:

Regression. I guess I’m being the bad girl I never was in school. A real rebel, ‘eh? Ha ha. Funny thing is, no one seemed to notice. Sheesh.

A little crazier was the girl I didn’t know who freaked me out by trying to suck on my neck, and the fact that I posed for a picture on a handsome man’s lap, stuck my finger in his ear, and now cannot for the life of me, remember his name. There is something inherently wrong with that. Oh gosh.

I pull myself from the night’s memories and back into the present moment and drive slowly down East River Road. It is a beautiful, quiet night and ever so still.

I round the infamous East River Road bend where the houses cease to be on the right side and there is only the river. I am acutely aware of the silence.

As I resign myself to the conclusion of a memorable evening, I see a shadowy figure up ahead near the water. I stop my car.

A single large, lovely, deer slowly walks across the road immediately in front of me. He turns his head and looks at me as he crosses. My camera is not handy, so I sit perfectly still and watch in awe. But it looks something like this.

Wow.

Now that, my friends, is the perfect ending to a great night; and one that I did not anticipate . . . another precious moment to remember.

Grosse Ile, Michigan, it will always be my home.

Gosh, I love this place.

Categories: Downriver/Detroit, Michigan, Friends, Holidays/Birthdays, Humor | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , | 27 Comments

DAD, I REMEMBER

Dad, I remember . . . as a child jumping at the chance to bring you your morning coffee.  I would slowly tiptoe across the room, trying intently not to spill a drop.  Your smile was my greatest reward for arriving with at least half of a cup remaining.

Dad, I remember . . . all of us kids wrestling with you. We’d pile on top of you in a jubilant heap of arms and legs. Mom waited in the wings for the inevitable injury and would shake her head in astonishment as she watched yet another tearful child receive her hugs, recover, and quickly rejoin the pack.

Dad, I remember . . . the time you took me fishing.  We arose with the sun and shared the lake with the misty silence and the early morning chill.  I hardly noticed the small pool of water in the bottom of the boat that seeped into the hole of my tennis shoe. With quiet anticipation, I focused on the red and white striped bobber at the end of my fishing line. If I moved my eyes I’d miss the fish. With realization, I looked at you . . . this was so much more.

ROW BOAT ON LAKE

Dad, I remember . . . having dinner with you in the morning after your midnight shift at the plant. Your tired face notwithstanding, you were my first crush on a man in uniform.

Dad, I remember . . . dancing with you on my wedding day and resting my head on your shoulder.   The safety of your arms brought me comfort like a warm, soft blanket, and took me to a magical place that daughters dream of.

ME & DAD

When I was just a child, you were so many things to me.

Now, as a woman, I thank you for those memories, and for being the person that I needed you to be.

You are still my comfort, my safety, and the best man I know.

Happy Father’s Day, Dad.

DAD

I love you.

Categories: Family, Holidays/Birthdays, Love, Poetry | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 40 Comments

THOUGHTS ON MOTHERS

As it was just Mother’s Day, I feel compelled to write something about them.

I have nothing against mothers, but I could more easily write about a fork.  Really. I could write you a nice little blog about the fork in the road, or the fork that I stuck in your hand, or the way I sometimes just don’t give a fork.

But mothers? The subject encompasses too much and I wouldn’t know where to begin.

So what I’ll do, rather than burn my few remaining cranky old menopausal brain cells, is share a few random thoughts with you about mothers or mothering.

***AM I STILL A MOTHER even though my only child has passed away? I don’t usually leave the house on mother’s day because it hurts when well-intentioned people say things like, “Happy Mother’s Day!” or worse yet, “Are you a mother?”

***THE LOSS OF MY INFANT SON changed my life forever,” I said to my therapist, tearfully. “I not only lost him, but I was robbed of an entire lifetime and a completely different lifestyle.”

“You need to let it go.” She replied.

Then she suddenly switched gears and quickly grabbed her briefcase off the floor.

“Oh, I’m so excited, I’ve finally got my daughter’s wedding pictures and I can’t wait to show them to you! Do you  want  to  see?” She asked brightly.

The thought crossed my mind to snatch them from her hand and set fire to them. Then gone would be her precious paper memories. Poof! And then SHE could just get over it.

“Sure.” I replied.

Later in the car, I cried the entire way home.

***I HAVE GIRLFRIENDS who are mothers. And in my eyes, THEY ARE SUPER HEROS! They astonish me with all they can accomplish in any given day. And they do it ALL. With grace. And humor. And love. I am in awe of every single one of them. I must remember to remind them of that.

***MANY OF MY FRIENDS have had to mother their own parents. We are of that generation. I admire and am humbled by them.

***MOM IS THE ONE who will be there no matter what. So what happens when she’s gone? I have friends who have lost one or both parents . . . and it breaks my heart.

***NO MATTER HOW MEEK OR SHY some of us may feel at times, most of us turn into a MOMMA BEAR if someone threatens harm to a child. We don’t even have to know that child and we would protect them without hesitation. We need to protect and love our own child within with the same voracity and ferociousness. We must learn to mother, nurture, and protect ourselves.

***I HAVE THE MOST REMARKABLE GIRLFRIENDS who have mothered me at times. I am grateful for their comfort, love, and precious time. They touch and inspire me.

***MY MOM created some special memories for us children. Here are two of my favorites:

1) All six of us kids would sit at the dining room table and mom would provide us with all the makings for homemade pizza:flour, dough, sauce, and a variety of toppings, and we all made our own individual mini pizzas for dinner.

2) All four of us sisters would sit in a row in front of the television set, and with a gentle touch, mom would brush and curl our hair; one by one. Sometimes I would get “spit” curls or banana curls, and sometimes the Marlo Thomas, “That Girl”, flip.

Please tell me, what are your favorite memories of you and your mom?

Categories: Family, Friends, Grief/Healing, Holidays/Birthdays | Tags: , , , , , | 29 Comments

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