Inside me lives a little girl: giggly, impatient and giddy, over new. New experiences, lit brilliantly across northern trails. She, wide eyed, and with extreme expression, has wished on every star, counting them, 1, 2, 3, will he find me? Her neck exposed, eyes full of wonder, up, up, and away. The sky breaks, she no longer feels alone color washes over her face, darkness fades, as night mirrors grace, and light begins to dance. Life comes alive, and her squeal echoes, through the woods. Look! Fingers pointing with urgency, I see what she sees, and tears fall – yet, fully aware of her inner whisper, “Come with me…” I sense my obligations. Haunting.
I apologized to Her today. Closed my eyes and found Her at the front door. She allowed me in willingly. She was smiling, yet, I know now. She really had no idea. No idea of just how bleak the situation.
Her family was torn apart. Poor, but not as poor as others. Street smart, but no clue on how to be a young lady or a woman. Smart. Oh, so smart. She knew when to turn on the charm and when to keep busy. Survival was key. She watched other mommas. She would just do what they did.
I remembered every smell, room color and contents of the house. I surprised myself. I hadn’t thought back to those days since I’d left.
Young and afraid, but who could really tell? Known as a hard worker. One who had overcome circumstances beyond her control. Just stay out of Her way. Control. If She could control her surroundings She would survive and so would they.
I looked down into the basement. Wooden steps down to the dirt floor, the floor Dad would have gotten to eventually. For now it was a safe place to go during tornado season. The smell flooded back into my soul, as I recalled the spot I’d learned to whistle. Watched dirt flow through the slits of my fingers. The smell was oddly comforting. She smiled at me. Proud of my memory. Crowded down there but safe.
She held my hand as we made our way around the house. The place I’d left little Audrey the day I moved away. I occurred to me I had no memory of whether or not I’d said goodbye. I just drove away in the red Granada. She was just happy to have me home again.
We looked at the framed school pictures on the wall in the living room. Big bangs, smiles and oversized sweatshirts for a football team we’d probably never see play outside of a television screen, yet somehow our devotion was strong. They were staring back at me. She – they- tried so hard to fit in. I watched the four of us run in a circle once again to the tune of the Duke’s of Hazzard theme song, while dad laughed. The fastest? Oh, the competition was fierce. She giggled. We knew it was never us.
The screen door to the back porch opened as we made our way outside. I caught a glimpse of the grey paint curling and slowly peeling away from the boards used to create a floor. She looked on with regret and a bit forlorn, knowing we’d spent hours pulling it off, after mom and dad had spent so much time and money painting it on.
I told Her I was sorry for leaving her here in the house. I hadn’t taken her somewhere to heal, to dream bigger or live fully. I explained to Her things had changed. We were okay, and this time when I left, she would come along. She could finally rest. I whispered how proud I was of her bravery.
She would experience joy in new places and be allowed to strive for anything. I explained how none of this was her fault. And she wasn’t going to be clinching on to bits of normalcy any longer. I reassured Her. I combed her hair, washed her face, and finished all the laundry piling up at the back of the house. Her job was done. We were leaving. No one was staying in that grey house another day.
– 15 minutes – no editing – write it out – Set it free –
Today is going to be a hard day. We’re grateful to be together and we want to thank you for being here with us.
When dad asked if any of us wanted to speak my siblings looked at me, knowing I might just agree if they encouraged me enough. Earlier this week I decided I’d better get my thoughts down in preparation for a service but they didn’t arrive. Last night at 10:30 my words finally found me.
Grandpa had a son who arrived every morning for coffee – a confidant – a daughter who knew the best time to call for a long chat, – best of friends – and a son who made the best pancakes he’d ever had – a companion.
Do I talk about harvest, a good coupon for the grocery store or hearty breakfast food? None. These three knew their father. But did we…
All I could think of when I heard the news was how well Grandpa massaged Grandma’s feet with peppermint lotion every night in the living room. I think that sticks with me even today as a beautiful reminder of how precious love is but I knew there was more of the man I wanted to share today.
I guess you could say we were the first four of his eight grandchildren. The Nebraskans – first ones to test his nerves, to make him chuckle – in a way only grandpa’s do – and the first to ruin much of what he probably told us to stay away from. We were the first four to eat all of his M&Ms – even the ones hidden in the basement fruit room.
The next group of four grandchildren should thank us for helping Grandpa relax. Did he knock on the table harder or softer while playing cards with you guys? A man of few words and even less patience for shenanigans during card playing. Fairly certain it was a softer knock paired with a twinkle in his eye.
His two Kansas Girls, just down the street and his two Colorado Boys, who loved fishing just as much as he did – you four were his pride and joy.
We know for certain, as a retired Grandpa, he loved watching you grow up. His perfected Grandpa chuckle was all thanks to you and his opportunity to finally be there for his loved ones activities.
We feel pretty confident Grandpa Willard taught us all how to work hard. If there was daylight then there was time to weed the garden, move a water hose or tend to a flower bed. Grandpa ran the elevator and not a soul worried about how it was done. Grandpa always knew how to do things the right way.
Grandpa taught us to enjoy the thrill of the ride. A master at the wheel, he often took time to drive us for pizza. Pooches seemed to be his happy place. I can remember the pep in his step when it was time for a good slice of pizza or the largest ice cream cone you’d ever see. When we were kids, whether it was a trip for pizza, ice cream or supper in Denver, Grandpa always delivered.
Mostly, we remember how serious Grandpa Willard took his family responsibility. Not a one of us ever felt neglect or concern for our safety with Grandpa near. He loved his family. The joy across his face was something we all vetted for. Making Grandpa proud was quite an accomplishment. His expectations were to do our best, don’t back down and remember to take care in what we were put in charge of.
Grandpa Willard was proud of us all. The hand tap, the adoring eye contact and the tight hugs proved it. We watched him love his children, Grandma, and Dorothy this way. His love meant the world to all of us. There wasn’t much he missed or forgot. It may have looked like we weren’t listening, Grandpa, but we were – I promise.
Grandpa, when we got to your house yesterday you weren’t sitting in your kitchen chair waiting for us to pull in to the driveway, or looking for the prettiest finches in the backyard. You weren’t in your chair in the living room either. Its gonna take some time to get used to our new view.
We’ll do what we can to continue your legacy of hard work, a little fun and a lot of love for your great-grandchildren. We love you.
nourished solely
on the belief someone
truly knew me
felt like I was loved
treated fairly,
an important piece,
my past cleansed
and the beginning of honest
healing,
a glimpse at serendipitous.
***
What I Would Have Shown You
essence everywhere
sliding, slowly, before me
found beauty, lifeless
and myself sat searching.
water breaks past roots, stones and debris
flows towards my lense; healing.
Chortles echo in the distance,
oh, one day love will be,
Verdant , my keeper – Forest King
show me where life will lead,
tears dampen this face, and my page,
Colorado heal me,
God, show me grace.
Today, as the sun shines, so that I might see It is my hope, a continuous hopeful Dream, You’ve settled into your day, Thoughts bringing you closer To peace, So your nights offer you moments of Clarity, As sleep takes you where you want to be.
it’s how you sound
in your constant
here I am,
I’m not leaving
lap of consistency,
that turns me into
a believer.
even the glisten within
total darkness proves
you are you,
as swirls reach out
to touch me,
to quench.
I won’t miss the doubt,
fear
or the hiding.
complete submersion
into you,
heals.
for today
what could be
waits for a spark,
her sparkle, really.
the marrow of her sigh,
born of her bashful smile,
is one he committed to memory,
unsure of how soon it would return.
praying seems simple
but what do we pray for,
the healing to continue?
even when every single day
is tough
maybe we pray for an end
of suffering, yet
I can’t fathom
world’s apart or dust to dust,
so here I am
upon knees, head bowing
please, it’s your will,
please.
and my loved one,
my inner child screams.
the usual congratulations we love yous and you two are so happy messages, suddenly end when it isn’t a wedding anniversary anymore no one reminded me today I’ve never felt so forgotten
I, critical of every word chosen
What sort of life is this,
I plead.
Creative soul, release this fear
Living on the edge of me.
Save these poems,
I’ve chosen to share
Don’t allow my retreat,
My eyes reverent and engaged.
Tell me, poet traversing,
Are these words healing you
Or me
All I want is you,
To make you proud
When all I can do
Is be me, when is
Enough good enough?
My steering wheel has
Too much bulk, my fingertips
Are cold, hold on, while
My heart drives out
Of control.
These shoes today, a horrible
Choice. Sure, watch me limp
Across the street,
Ha, still me wishful
Thinking, longing.
Curly hair, blown by
Monday’s fluttering wind
Let it be, messy again.
My mind spins against time
And all I hear is patience,
I’m fighting my
Inner child
I own a purpose
Within this life
I feel deepest when
My sonant sings.
Winds have howled,
My thoughts often left
Rationalized. What
Will tomorrow bring…
West winds reappear,
Command again,
I’m humbly listening.
Refuse the darkness when
It offers. Watch time take
What belongs to my soul,
And place it faithfully
Upon my willing shoulders.
I’ll continue to carry
my essence,
And give flight to the
Zephyr inside of me.
***
Thank you to those who supported my poetic effort. The A to Z Poetry Challenge brought me back to my poetry. Humbled. ♡
Oldest Daughter & Red Headed Sister 