What Is Love

Love is you
It's the way you say
I simply love it
And oh really, too
It's the sound of your voice
That makes my heart sing
It's the joy of your love
To which I cling
It's when you say,
You are my baby
And those miss calls
That make my day
Love is you
And who you are
Love is not distance
Near or far
And as I lay me
down to sleep
I look at the moon
Your love to keep

My Heart

     Man looks on the outward, but God sees the inward. How true, how many times does someone think they know what is in a person's heart. Nobody knows the struggles others have nor the burdens one bears. It's always good to have kindness and compassion for another for that person may be in great need for the one kind thing you may give to them. I remember awhile back I was at the grocery store and I smiled at a lady, she came up to me and said that it blessed her. I could have looked past her that day or have been so caught up in my own world, but I simply smiled at her. She saw something in my smile that blessed her. It serves to remind me that such small things in this life can bring joy, a kind word to someone when they need it, a smile, maybe opening a door or helping someone. Joy is contagious and when our hearts are full of it it reflects on the outward.
     I always want my heart to be tender and caring for others. To see beyond the outward and see the inward need. My prayer is that my heart would be so full of love that it would spill over and touch others, that I would be an encouragement to others and speak words in kindness. That I would have wisdom, wisdom is not having all the answers or speaking great mysteries, wisdom is knowing when to speak and what to say so that the words that proceed forth will be a blessing to another. That is my heart.
    

Lessons of Life

     I don't know how old I was when I first learned to swim, but I do remember the circumstances. My parents had decided to take a trip to Nashville Tennessee. My father played guitar and had a band, he always wanted to go to the Grand Ole Opry so off they went, they dumped my sister in Massachusetts with my aunt and uncle and left me in Maine with my grandmother. I decided I was going to climb one of the big maple trees. Everything was looking good as I made my way to the top of the tree. I climbed up and was nearing the top when I stepped on a branch that broke beneath my foot. Suddenly I was plunging downward, head first, towards the ground. My foot caught on the next to the last branch, if I had fallen and hit the ground I surely would have died, but I didn't, no I was hanging upside down in the tree screaming for help. My uncle who lived next door happened to be driving by, he stopped and pulled me out of the tree. Deciding that my grandmother was incapable of caring for me he took me with him for the week. He had rented a cottage at the lake, that was the week I learned how to swim. My uncle gave me some lessons in swimming. It was pretty much the happiest week of my childhood. I would get up at the crack of dawn and swim most of the day away.
     Swimming for me is a way of relieving stress. I go down to the railroad tracks and swim in the water there. Last year when I knew my Mother was slipping away and would die soon, I went to the railroad tracks alot. Nobody else goes there so I was always alone. I would swim and cry, mourning in my own way.
     Today I went there, burdened in my heart I found some solace and relief swimming by myself. As I swam I thought about how my Mom would take us to the beach as children. The place we went to had a small restaurant. We were too poor to afford to spend money on take out food so my mother would pack us a basket. She would make tuna sandwiches with cucumber cut up in it. To this day I make my tuna sandwich like my Mom did. We always spent the entire day at the beach, making our way home at suppertime. I really miss my Mother. I miss her brushing my hair back from my face, miss being able to talk to her. I miss her, I can't imagine what it would be like for a small child not to have their mother. I was fortunate, I know this, to have the mother I had, it saddens me to think of others not as fortunate. Some will never have what you take for granted  in this life. Appreciate it.

A Grievous Wound Is Hard To Bear

Words can be like swords and knives
Wounding the soul and bringing strife
For years I turned my face away
Not knowing it would haunt me one day
All of the hurtful words went deep inside
There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide
A grievous wound is hard to bear
Into my heart it did tear
So many tears, so much grief
Then I met you, you brought relief
You brought joy into my soul
your love has touched me and made me whole.


     .

Mom and Dad

     June the 15th was the day my mother was born, She died last September. My father was born on January 2nd and passed away in December of 2003, 6 years and 2 months after he dad a stroke that left him in a wheelchair for the remainder of his life. My mother faithfully took care my Dad after his stroke. Yesterday on June 15th to commemorate my mother's birthday we gathered together and buried our parents. We each cut a locket of our hair and put it in the box with their ashes, then my brother put the box in the ground, covering it and sealing it with a stone that had been engraved with their names and the simple phrase, together forever.
     We never had alot of money growing up, my parents both worked hard, but never made alot of money. My Dad was generous, he was the type of a person who would give the shirt off from his back.  My father often invited someone over to have supper, but my mother never complained, she just cooked a little more.
     Every person has their own memories, but these are mine. Some memories of my father include him cutting my hair, he put a bowl on my head and cut around the edges, it was quite the haircut. I probably resembled the little Dutch boy. Dad tied a string around a loose tooth of mine then tied the other end of the string to the door handle, then proceeded to slam the door to remove that tooth, if my memory serves me correctly I do believe it worked.
     My mother usually did the grocery shopping, but on occasion my father went grocery shopping with us. He put all of the unnecessary items my mother would never buy in the cart, such as potato chips.
     My mother was so poor growing up that she would buy up extra canned goods, my Dad was a carpenter so this worked well, he built her alot of cupboards to store those canned goods in.
     My Dad always made comments about how beautiful my mother was, he was always trying to kiss her. My mother was quite modest and would say, "not in front of the children." But my Dad always managed to get that kiss.
     My mother was our main disciplinarian, but Dad stepped in now and then, especially if we dared to sass our mother. I remember putting on some makeup as a teenager and my mother told me to take it off, I refused. My father came up out of the chair he was sitting in and let me know that if I did not do what my mother requested the consequences were not going to be good for me. Needless to say, I took off the makeup.
      We never really took family vacations although occasionally we took family trips. One such trip we went to New Hampshire. Neither one of my parents read maps very well, not a good thing when you're driving and need that particular ability to get where you're going and home again. Well we did manage to get to our destination, but on the way home my father and brothers went to sleep in the back seat while I happily sat with my Mom in the front seat as she navigated the car. A couple of hours went by, my Dad woke up, we took a rest stop, but where were we? My mother was way off course, instead of being headed back towards Maine we were headed into the White mountains. Let's just say my father took over the rest of the drive home. I don't remember any yelling, but I do remember the map being torn up. I am laughing as I write this.
      If I could sum it all up I would say we were not a perfect family because there are no perfect people, but we were a family. I'll always remember my father cheering me on as I took my first bike ride, picking me up when I wiped out. I'll remember my mother taking care of me when I was ill. I'll remember my parents buying me books to read even though there wasn't much money. I'll remember my mother's encouragement to design and create things. I'll remember my father sitting and playing his guitar and showing me how to play. I'll remember all of the silly songs he made up. We buried our parents, but we didn't bury our memories.