Thursday, February 17, 2011

Why I Was Late to Work This Morning

When I first saw this promise of a sunrise,
I somehow knew that I'd be late today.
For I felt compelled to turn my face directly toward the East;
and meander through the country,
making stops along the way.
The air was damp from clouds
now flaming distant,
Reflecting orange against the morning blue,
And I saw the lines that streaked o'erhead;
I saw the roads beneath,
As side by side they raced along
to reach a day so new
it hadn't yet put forth a cry or whisper,
and blankets still were swaddled around its face. So I drove until I reached a meadow;
there beneath the trees. I waited, wondering all alone, for the sun to take its place

Monday, February 14, 2011

An Old Picture

My husband found a dilapidated tin full of old pictures. This one is Elaine, but I'm not sure who the baby is. I know it's not one of my children, because the only child of mine she ever met was the oldest, and Carina's hair was dark and curly. I'm wondering if this isn't a nephew or niece of mine?

Whoever the child is, I love the look on grandma's face...lots of love for a little Valentine.

Update: The baby is her first grandson, Philip.

Sunday, February 13, 2011

A Thousand Years of Memories

 We went down to Arkansas for my niece's wedding and stayed for a couple of days with my husband's step mom and her little Chinese crested puppy dog Bella, who growled at Turtle every time he came through the door until he won her heart with little bites of beef jerky. Here she is, madly in love with the hand that fed her.

Time passed it has a habit of doing, and we found ourselves at my husband's home church, next to the quirky little bell tower that stands among the pines in front of the sanctuary.
It was here that we came to bury his father, Paul, several years ago, and were astounded and amazed when we entered the foyer and found friends from our church in Oklahoma who had driven the eight hours to be with us for the funeral.

It was also here, twenty seven years ago, that we arrived, in shock, grieving over the sudden death of his mother, Elaine. I'm older now than she was when she left us. It doesn't seem possible. She and Paul were faithful members of this church and she had taught the children's church for many years. Here is a little garden area and fountain dedicated to her memory. I took a picture of Zaya and Mim as they played by her fountain--two of the great-grandchildren she never met.

Inside the church, in a small dressing room, there was scurrying and bustling as the bridesmaids, the bride and the bride's mother all dressed in an excited hurry. Princess dress? Check. Jewelry? Check.
Nails? Hair? Feathers? Tennis shoes? ....
Whaaaat? Tennis Shoes?

Turtle, the minister, and Chuckles, his brother, and the father of the bride enjoyed catching up on old stories.

Five beautiful little girls dressed in black, white and red--and the ubiquitous converse foot ware--took care of the rings, the flowers, the books, hospitality, and gifts.

It was sunny outside, but still cool enough for a little snow to nestle midst the pine needles and quietly melt. Zaya and Mim are children of the plains; they were impressed by all the trees and played outside for a good part of the time.

Inside, there wasn't a lot for them to do as we waited for the guests to arrive.
We visited.
Art read fairy princess stories to Mim.

Zaya read his new book--the Time Machine. Looking around, I felt a bit like I was in a time machine too.

Wasn't it just last year that I rocked my grandchildren's mom in this very spot?  And wasn't it just a few years before that, we had a wedding shower in this church, and I remember that the oh-so-naive and confident little new bride was me.

The older I get, the more I understand the Psalmist, who said:

         For a thousand years in Your sight
Are like yesterday when it is past,
like a watch in the night.

Psalm 90:4