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Prayer for Parents
Vlog: Mother-Daughter Love
Mother-Daughter Love
Every Single Day
Every Single Day A few...
Leaving a Legacy or Cooking with Grandma
Leaving a Legacy or Cooking with Grandma If you’ve ever seen a five-year old help grandma cook, you’ll know what I mean. Picture the cute little girl or boy, with grandma’s apron tied around the waist, doubled over, and grazing the floor. Norman Rockwell could have painted...
The Forgotten
The Forgotten They sitin managed care facilities,life at an ebb.Sometimes forgotten,like books full of photosand lively text that nobody reads.
Sacred Doesn’t Have to be Serious
Sacred Doesn’t Have to be Serious He found a letter among her things; it was addressed to her three boys. It was written when her handwriting was still perfect; before her health declined and her hands began to shake. Their...
Wipe, Wipe, Wipe
Wipe, Wipe, Wipe In the morning I wipe upthe spilled cereal milk,then I wipe off the milk mustaches.When the baby cries,it means she needs wiping.Later I'm wiping dirty hand prints off of the walls.It's raining when the kids get home from school...I'm wiping off damp headsand wiping up muddy footprints.Dinner includes...
Unending Love
Unending Love Her hands can't thread a needle,reading now, a past pleasure.Walking has become a challenge,forgetting what she had to say.Failing eyesight, hands that tremble,limbs that won't cooperate,memories playing hide and seek.Will You prepare me,this child who has now
Healing Hands
Healing Hands Sometimes thankless,always exhausting.Every now and again, there's a moment of respite that is a reminder:This is a job that makes mea hero every day of the week. Being a caregiverwas not my calling.
Rubber Meets Road
Rubber Meets Road Every day without fail,I tell my son: Always do the right thing.If you give your word, keep it.Sometimes he rolls his eyes,but I know it sinks in eventually.I look back at the fading forensics of those timesYou tried to reach me too.Rolling my eyes toward the heavens, I tuned You out.
Little Women
Little Women They're all hair, nails, lips slick wet with ripe cherry gloss. They pout and turn on their heels and toes, winking at an audience who are open mouthed, slack jawed. Applauding for more. And they're no older than seven. If you've ever watched a show like Toddlers and Tiaras you've seen the frightful way babies are bred into pint-sized women, shaking their hips...
Generation to Generation
Generation to Generation By divine selection we are born to our parents.You have allowed me to be a recipientof my parents extraordinary love.You, have weaved the fabric of theircharacter and values into my DNA.You have made them the yardstick by whichI measure myself.
Imperfect Parent
On Being an Imperfect Parent "I want to be just like my dad when I grow up - only without the drinking and smoking." One of my son's friends, at only eleven, summed up the downside of those two wonderful/bewildering neighborhoods: adulthood and parenthood. Now somebody's watching what you do. You can't get away with seeming invincible and omniscient once your kids hit puberty. They see you at your worst -...
One, Big, Happy
One, Big, Happy Our driveway is a lot for rental cars,our basement a campsite:blankets on couches,air mattresses, sleeping bags.Upstairs, the cacophony of catching up:Look how the kids have grown!How was the vacation?Gee, I miss Gram.Thank You for bringing us together.Thank You for gathering us safely.Thank You...
My Mother, My Self
My Mother, My Self Nobody loves you like your mother.Fussing with your hat, doling out superfluous advice:"Stand up straight!" "Look both ways!"Putting up with our selective amnesiaas we forget to bring home our report card—again.I want to know her back story,what she gave up for me.
Fussing Over the Folks
Fussing Over the Folks Help me to not worrywhen the phone rings and ringsand my messages go unanswered.Let me take a deep breathand picture them;not in a ditch,but where they usually are these days—touring a winery,hiking a woodland path,or on yet another trip. The life they are living today...
Mother
Mother The greeting cards lie.They put words to what is unsayable.You alone know how I see her:She is seven feet tall,a monolith, all-powerful.Still, she is tiny and fragile—a strong gust could part us—and I cannot think of losing her.Tell her for me. I trust You.Tell her how much I love her,how our closeness awes me,so that I hardly know where she ends
What's in it for Me?
What's in it for Me? This whole experienceI'm growing through,Your message I've received!I must give more to thoseI care for and love.As a parent, guide me to be more reassuring—praising, giving hugs and kisses,every day saying, "I love you."
Wisdom of Our Elders
Wisdom of Our Elders Bless the Nanas of the world,the Pop-Pops, the Gramps,who show us how to knit, how to fish,how to find a good moodeven when their sciatica kicks in. Secretly holding the world together,they don't competewith whoever the Joneses might be,and teach that kindnessis love on a slow...
Work in Progress
Work in Progress Sometimes I wonder what I can teach my children.I can't even help with homework anymore.Then, when I think they’re not listening,I realize they’ve picked up my bad habits.Make me aware of my impact.Let me see through Your Jeweler's glassthe gem I will be and not the rough edges and flaws.Count to...
Toddler's Cuddle
Toddler's Cuddle I thank You for the grinthat is more gums than teeth.A chubby hand in minethat often leaves something sticky behind.A chortle that lowers blood pressureand raises bliss.The roundest bare bellyplaying peek-a-boo.Those nubby little toesin perfect chubby rows.For the intense, gooey...
Battle Cries
Battle Cries War ravaging within me.Peck, peck, pecking away, every time my phone moans.Every time I wonder, "Where is my child now?"This is war.Every time I beg You to keep them safe.Every time the news has a new tally to share.A new...
A Mother's Memory
A Mother's Memory Wedding bells. Plans. Happiness.Ultrasounds and doppler scans.Why did she die? Pink booties. Scented candles. Musical mobile.Lace curtains and nursery furniture.Why did she die? Drab days.Vacant stare. Meaningless existence.Endless days and infinite emptiness.Why did she die? Please, I don't want Your
