Fighter

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On Friday, I rode in with jokes and prayers,
Cause he enjoys both,
cancer is the worst, and somehow the
newest and the best still isn’t enough.
Three steps forward, two steps back,
when do we call it, when is it just too tough?
He told us today if only I was 20 years younger,
yet for us, he is.
He will always be one tough cowboy.
Encourage. Encouraged. Encouraging,
this is the season of life we battle – willingly.
Time time time – we need more.
Cook food, drink water, sing a tune
Never ending shuffle of what are we to do.
His fight is stronger than ours,
a blessing –
funny how it is.
Today it appears we are offered another day,  a week, month or years. 
Either way,
God, oh how we love him.

Aurora

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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.

Expose

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An exposition in the heat of the day.
Toned, an arched formation,
and positioned at summer’s mercy,
smitten is her coloring.
Appearing freckled and sunkissed as the day peaks, and the dew fades,
she’ll sway confidently with adoration.
Clothed in rose hues, and on display – welcome to her vulnerability,
perfected in creation,
and encouraged to stay.

Breathe

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“Grass looks good.”
even when the state of the other side
of the yard is on his mind,
his kindness shines through.
“Maple trees aren’t worth the work.”
and another hundred helicopters
fall down, as the wind shifts,
he ignores that, too.
Focused on the positives, as another day
slowly drifts away,
I listen to the birds calling each other
back to the nest.
“Don’t forget to fill their feeder.”
is whispered, and I smile.
Chair feels comfortable for now,
three sit quietly vacant,
as the neighbors drive by.
Settled, the evening breeze soothes me,
I hear, “Good enough,”
and before I’m ready
dogs bark a good evening to one another.
a subtle goodbye felt within,
auburn hair brushes my cheek,
like vapor, his voice will leave,
as today sets behind the trees.

In Strides

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“We had the strength to raise them, we will have the strength to let them go …”    

– The Waltons

A friend sent me that quote a few days ago. Soo, true.

I’m sat here, finally, after a busy day. I just read great news from both kids (6 hours after the fact), if I could pat myself on the back I probably would, but I know single moms rarely accomplish big things without help from many.  Life is a crazy ride, and I’m so grateful for it. I’ve settled in to empty nesting finally, yet I wish I was with both of them celebrating their accomplishments.

Anyway, just one more quick story from today. Been a heck of a day. ♡

Love you, Aud.

I helped care for a man today who had recently gone to heaven. It was my privilege to do so, even if some would say it’s just my job.

He was the epitome of a real Nebraskan. A Nebraska Gentleman, he served his country, he raised his family, his wife had been cherished, he cared for his farm and community, all the while serving his church.

He taught grown men how to farm in the 1950s, after Korea, and did very well farming his own land. When many folks were selling in the 1980s, he was just hitting his stride. He had a helluva stride, too. I looked forward to seeing his face on Sunday mornings. He would’ve been just my type. Well dressed, and smelled good too, even at over 90, you could see him driving his vehicle to play cards with the boys, or walking to church on a beautiful Spring morning. He was humble, soft spoken, yet incredibly certain, he paid attention to detail and always asked about my children. The true enjoyment on his face over their accomplishments created the best feeling inside of me. He truly cared. I’ll miss him. His presence brought normalcy to my week. I live with regret. I didn’t tell him how impressed I was by his just being HIM.

It was an honor to serve his family today. 95 years – well done, good and faithful servant.

Be well, friends. ♡

Brilliance Dawning

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There are mornings, where if I don’t write what’s waiting, it will continue to sway within me.

Pushing, pulling, and looking for a way to make room. There’s attitude, fear, and control, all of which have caused me to stumble in the past.

The stutter I used, and passed down when I was younger was me – unashamed. Confident in my thoughts and convictions.

I believed wholeheartedly in myself, yet appearing to question my authority to those listening around me. Passed over and rendered entertaining. They didn’t know me very well, did they?

Interesting how I finally feel her again. And she’s amazingly bright and able.

Isn’t it funny?

Bravery appears differently on everyone.

Unexpected

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Her decision to be,
Welcoming and welcomed.
Taking chances, she survived, yet, now
She must let go of difficult dreams.
Made to sustain more than many,
Considered selfless and it’s been humbling.
Listening for the One true voice,
Matters most, and  stiffening whispers of I told you so, is tough.
He was right.
Her future is full of unknowns,
Who does she become here?
To thrive would mean taking a risk,
Opportunities will be missed.
Overlooked
Causing confusion,
Nothing worse than blindly choosing
Or second guessing
What she will be next.

Sending much love,

Aud

Non-negotiable

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The day had finally arrived it was Mom’s pick.

The dreaded Bible Museum, “… this is my no discussion item.”

“You understand it costs $30, right?”

“Yep, I do, and I’ll gladly buy the tickets. It’s my turn today.”

“Mom, there are so many places to visit and they cost you nothing. I know why you want to go, but this is an expensive trip as is…”

“I can’t come all this way and not go, plus I’ve already lost the cathedral visit because of their schedule.”

“You lead the way.”

“I need to manage my time right so I don’t miss the next showing of A Walk Through Creation. The lady said start on the third floor.”

A few moments later.

“Mom, come look. Mom, do you see this? Mom, this is soo old. Mom, I could stay just in this room for an hour. Mom, I need a picture of that. Mom, these artifacts are priceless.”

“Now you understand why I cried when I saw the Gutenberg Bible yesterday, sweet child of mine.”

” If you’re up to waiting I think we should do the Walk Through the Old Testament, they line up over there.”

“I’d really love to, yes.”

“Wow, this is bright.”
“Yes, son, and then there was light.”


“Their depiction of the rainbow is beautiful…”
“God’s promise.”

Many, many, many moments later.

“Mom, I’m didn’t expect to learn so much. You do realize where all that came from?  I’d do this again, for sure. This is a top D.C. spot for me.”

“Its kinda like I knew all along. You are my son…”

– Learning –  

a collection of photos and poems.

***As I begin sharing the last few poems of the D.C. collection, I’d like to say thank you for allowing me to share my thoughts.

-Aud

Gravity

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Goodnight, Day

as simple as it seems,

nothing could have prepared us,

we’ve heard and we’ve seen,

how life gives, and we take for granted,

our daily routine.

The world appears different now and gravity settles in,

weighty, and morning merely hours ago, 

city lights slowly turning on,

soon our capital’s night will show,

function becoming imperative, however,

’tis custom for nature to start the glow.

– Learning –  

a collection of photos and poems.

Reunited

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While on my own, I rediscovered

pieces of who I am.

My heart leapt,

my soul weakened in reverence,

towards a pursuit, I’d maybe forgotten,

or possibly, extinguished

even discarded because I was different.

Small moments,

where,

I proved to be –

a someone. Found,

amongst many.

I saw you, too.

 

– Learning –  

a collection of photos and poems.

Nostalgia

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I took a drive a couple of days ago. I was in the mood for nostalgia. Snow days had come up in about every conversation I’d had in town, and I got to thinking. I thought about growing up on Hickory and wanted a picture of days gone by. Not sure why Hickory Street popped into my thoughts, but maybe it was the 16 inches of snow we received last week and the “squall”  we’d experienced on Thursday. (Ya, think?!?)

Every child in the area had gone down this hill, which seemed bigger than it appears, if they were willing to hoof it from across the way.  The “way” being the last and newest neighborhood on the edge of town. The hill spanned for about half a city block. The use of city to help describe a distance leaves me amused.  Hickory was a gravel road. This hill, for all intents and purposes, was in the country.

A well traveled road it would seem to us at the time but short of the mailman, families up the road and man who lived further to the east it was a quiet route – not taken by many or at all on winter days.  This allowed for tunnels, igloos and ramps to be built on and for the hill. Often times we’d trade in wet gloves for socks out of the clean laundry basket mom left sitting on the deep freeze. She’d hollar at us to use the old bread bags. The ones collected all year to wrap around mittens. In an instant handmade winter gear became water proof, but boy did it make packing snow difficult and an even slower process.

The hill taught friends, my siblings and I a lot about team work. Our creativity and manpower steamed forward by the hour. Nothing kept us from returning to a group project after lunch if our mothers would allow it.

My mind’s eye sees the hill and the narrow walkway at the top by the barbed wire fence. We’d  created a walking path at the top in an effort to travel from one house to the other during non wintery months, and everyone knew it was there. It was handy.  Back and forth we’d go all day long changing the location of play. It was a lot like a highway and we had created it all on our own. This path kept us safely off the road. 

On snow days, we’d plop our sleds on to the path. It was there under the snow somewhere, and we would pile on with the nose headed south. Everyone gripping the friend’s legs behind them as a way to hold on we’dcount down 3 – 2 – 1 – .
And then down, we’d go.

Appealingly Nonsensical

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Watching snow fall, not blow, but spill beautifully as if paid to do so by Hollywood, I find myself smiling. We could have prayed for years and never received this gorgeous day. Hours of complete enjoyment were ahead. We needed the moisture, and I knew we were finally seeing it, so contentment overwhelmed my heart.
I recalled a conversation about precisely how many feet of snow it would take for an inch of rainfall – yet I can’t for the life of me remember what the amount was, and so I giggle. Typical Audrey. I used to have people around to remember those details.  I try not to allow any negative thoughts when I can’t recall useful data because this, some would see as irresponsible, is me. I’ll chalk it up to not necessary enough and move on with smirk across my lips.

I find pleasure scooping snow while snowflakes fall one after another, some bigger than others. Not a breeze to be found, curious how we don’t normally refer to the wind as a breeze in the wintertime, but somehow yesterday the lack of came to me as such, while I threw another scoop of white to my left. Life appearing so peaceful and possibly perfect.

While others wait to forge a path outside, I find serenity scampering about doing small things, all the while listening for nature to wake. Silly squirrel presses forward slowly and leaps for a nearby tree. I consider how useful a new bird feeder would have been this morning and silently scold myself for not making that a priority in September and all the months that followed. It appears I was successful in punishing myself, although I had no idea I would be doing so at the time. Kept from the enjoyment I find in watching for cardinals, but made a note to get a new one next time I was in town. We shall see.

I ponder the quiet outdoors and how well I can hear myself breathe. My mind is open to possibilities, and how easy life can is if we stop and just do what comes naturally. Maybe you find it nonsensical, but a winter storm energizes me. All my daily musts are replaced by the here and now – and I do so love living in the moment as there is less time to ponder the what ifs. My muscles are tender, yet my mind clear.

* Just some thoughts & a silly little picture of the before and after of yesterday’s snowfall. I adore how safe the green bush appears after the snow. One powerfully protected by the other, it seems. Love that.

Meditation

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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 –

Healing

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Our compassion comes from a place of empathy,
or at least it should.
Who are we if we don’t wish the very best for someone?
Trials greet us when we’re not  looking, sinking us  into new depths.
Gratitude overwhelms the healing pieces of us, and it is there we should bow.
Humbled.
Nature nurtures, realize this at the very least, smile and allow the comfort as it exhales its release.

Sense of Direction

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The summer rain has painted fields of sunflowers
and the August breeze cools the brow.
67 degrees in the Sandhills, and nobody can explain how.

Wheat with a sense of adventure has been brushed in for effect,
and life gets interesting
just beyond the hills,
as I hear, “You haven’t been over there yet.”

Push past the state line, skys bluer than azure await,
there’s small horse towns ’bout every 8 miles,
and remember, “When you leave, shut the gate.”

Fuel isn’t getting any cheaper, and time waits for no one,
so dismiss all the reasons why one shouldn’t,
smell the damp dirt, allow it to slide through your fingers, let the wind send it.

Press the pedal on the right, bite your lip, and
appreciate the sound of your giggle,
the prairie weaves over and under –
everything beyond here matters,
and you’re not getting any younger.

A Day In The Life

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. . . You know those days when you wake up to a mountain of snow in your yard, because – wind – , so you make coffee and you spend an hour and a half talking yourself up to a game of shoveling for an hour or more? Not minding the physical work really, but the wind is gonna cut hard this time causing the debate inside my head a heaviness. (Nebraska blizzards are the worst, yet I adore them.)


You put on a few layers of clothes, bemoaning how you look in a hat 😳, wishing you’d purchased taller boots for winter, and decide you are capable of doing anything so you march outside ready to take on the snow with your trusty shovel. The object that has seen you through six consecutive winters in Nebraska since the last one broke and never failed.


The two of you dance about the sidewalk and around the car, being mindful of the fact you accidently mule kicked your jeans off last night in the dark and broke your pinky toe on your dresser so it already feels crammed into thick socks and tight boots as it is… so go easy, Aud.


Never mind your nose is dripping, ears are frozen because your hat is too short and your hazel eyes are watering due to refusing the scarf, as it’s too bulky and makes ya sweat anyway, and life feels hard but you’re making it work so ya laugh to say, “Cheers on you life,” and finish strong. Taking time to laugh at yourself every time you toss the snow against the wind and it attacks right back. This girl will never learn.


Grateful to be done with round one as you stomp back inside, after shoveling a path in the grass, as well, so ya can get to the car parked out back, with wet gloves, snow on top of the worthless hat you knitted as a first knitted object ever and you wanna fit into it.

However you were born with a big head and curly hair so hats don’t look right, then ya kick off the shorty expensive snow boots you were just sure would be so cute with jeans when you’re out and about at Christmas time and the sense of regret settles in.

See, you’re kinda cussing them because they kept your feet warm – good – yet you can’t feel your wet frozen ankles – bad. Side eye yourself realizing nobody cares because you’re the only one here now, so ya stop talking.


Wander a bit around the house as your glasses de-fog and ponder where you put your furry slippers when you first started this project nearly four hours ago and suddenly realize . . .

You didn’t pour one cup of coffee from the coffee pot and now it’s cold. AND so are you.

I can’t decide how I feel about myself now.
Love my life.

. . . wandering away now towards the microwave cold cup in hand

Pursuit

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dreams surround a homesteading such as this,
no amount of work could persuade them to leave.
his heart was given so long ago, and the farm has held on ever since.

the birds sang quite rightly the day she pulled in,
the tire was giving her fits.
when he took his cap off and extended his hand,
his eyes caused hers to lift, amused by the pink shade of shy she wore with her smile, he let off on his farmer’s tight grip.

hard became harder as sunsets created do-overs, and laughter filled the crisp winter air.
facts remained, but pleasure pursued as two strangers became one another,
encouraging life to come tumbling after.

Persuasion

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glows does the moon
beyond the branches, which held verdant prisms of summertime,
rich with thoughts of what could be come daylight.

a star just to the north points towards a path I’m unsure of
but regrettably stare into,
the cold air touches the tears I shed for the prayers I’ve said,
nothing makes sense as the fairytale ends.

night, oh night, you shout at me so,
what shall come of my young soul; trapped in a body at the peak of her age
clouds bustle by, such hurry
I ponder what awaits
just past the horizon of a foolish wish, held back by this garden gate.