Way back there in birthing bed
alone again she’d weep.
Year after year, new flesh, new bone,
pushed out like temporal teeth.
Ripped from its sockets by the roots,
life gasped and screamed for air,
then quieted down in perfect peace
to rich maternal fare.
Grandmother soil, warm and fertile,
the perfect garden spot.
She was Eve in efflorescence:
Black-eyed Susans, Blazing Stars,
Snow-drops, Spring Beauties, Ragweed and Clover.
She was Eden, perennially pregnant.
Wildflowers, we speckle the landscape,
earth’s laughter, we nourish and flavor the land.
Spawned one by one in darkened rooms,
loosed as fledglings from cradling hands: farmers, herders, builders, teachers, healers.
we explore, we discover,
we dance, we sing,
When my husband was a little boy, according to court documents, his mother, a widow, left him and his sister in the care of “vicious and immoral people, without proper food or sanitation.” Due to her neglect, the county removed her youngest two children—my husband and his sister—from the residence and she lost all parental rights. The older daughter, thirteen-years-old and pregnant, was sent to a state school for girls, where her baby was born and placed for adoption. An older son, age sixteen, joined the army. My husband and his sister were ultimately separated from each other. When he was two and a half and she was five, they were adopted by different families. They never saw their mother again. Continue reading Women and Children in Need
I’m concerned I may be developing Attention Deficit Disorder. Does ADD only afflict children? Some days my inability to remain focused runs me ragged. Before I can accomplish an intended task, often before I even get started, something invariably distracts me, demanding my immediate attention. Today has been one of those days, and it all began with the phone book. Continue reading ADD, Or What?
With outstretched arms and upturned face,
Her eyes clear China blue,
She took one wobbly halting step,
Before she could take two.
Chubby fingers gripping air,
Her face so filled with joy,
She mastered ten full toddling steps
To retrieve a favorite toy.
My grand daughter walking across the floor,
Both thrilled and chilled my heart
I knew too soon she’d walk away
All grown, and on her own, apart.
Today she walks across the stage,
In tassled cap and gown.
Head held high, so proud and sure
She graduates. Anita Stubbs
A long time friend emailed the following piece to me a few years back, one of those “forwards” we like to share from time to time, and because it came to me without the actual author’s name, I am sorry that I can not give credit to the source. But I’m sure it was written by a wise, thoughtful, fun-loving woman! I would like to re-post it here:
I would never trade my amazing friends, wonderful life, my loving family for less gray hair or a flatter belly. As I’ve aged, I’ve become kinder to myself, and less critical of myself. I’ve become my own friend. I don’t chide myself for eating that extra cookie, or for not making my bed, or for buying that silly cement gecko that I didn’t need, but looks so avante garde on my patio. I am entitled to a treat, to be messy, to be extravagant. Continue reading Aging Has Its Perks