The Old Gray Porch

Cracked and weathered, the old gray porch was my favorite part of granny’s house. Like granny herself, the aging veranda exemplified the grace and gentility of another era; strong and enduring, its elegance could not be marred by the hands of time.

In my mind’s eye, I can still picture granny’s porcelain skin and sparkling blue eyes, as we'd settle in for story time. Using crickets as her backdrop, she’d begin by humming an old country hymn, and wait patiently as we gathered ‘round in sweet anticipation. Hearing the first rhythmic squeak of the rocking chair, we know she was ready:

 “Once upon a time”, she’d begin.

Immediately enthralled,we'd allow the sugary sweet sound of her southern drawl to take us away, and transform the old gray porch into a mystical, magical place of childhood dreams……. 

Ugh! Worst blog ever!

Dear Friends and Fellow Bloggers,

Please accept my sincere apologies for what is about to be the "worst blog ever!" 

Hopefully, since I warned you ahead of time, you have chosen not to read this, but we all know about human nature.  I mean, let's be honest, if someone told me not to read something, I probably wouldn't listen....

So, if you ended up here by mistake, you may wish to reconsider, as you'll find no wit, humor or inspiration. In fact, I you'll find nothing at all! ( Between you and me, the only reason I'm writing at all is because I am expected to write daily as part of the SOL challenge, but shhhh.....don't tell anyone).

For those of you who decided to suffer through the worst blog ever,  I've carefully compiled a list of lame excuses to alleviate some of my guilt.......

1. I didn't prepare ahead of time

2. I have company coming over and have a million things to do before they get here

3. I have to take a shower

4. The dog at my computer mouse

Three out of four of my lame excuses are absolutely true, the other was my single attempt at humor:-)

Again, fellow slicers, I am sorry and promise to do better tomorrow....

It's all about YOU:-)

Last night, a close friend and fellow writer sat with me at the kitchen table, both of us sipping wine. "I admire you for taking the writing challenge", she said, wearing a genuine look of respect. "I could never find the time to do it." 

I nodded in agreement, knowing how much she already has on her plate. "Well", I said optimistically, "maybe next time." 

"Hmmm, I don't know", she said doubtfully, "it seems like an awful lot of work and dedication. I mean if you want to practice your writing, you can do that without all of the added pressure....."

"Yeah", I sighed, "I suppose you are right....I mean it IS a lot of pressure....but, well, I don't know....there's a lot more to it than that. I really enjoy it."

"Really?", she asked, with genuine curiosity, what do you like best about it?" 

Good Question!!!!!!!!

What do I like best? …..I had to think carefully about her question. Clearly, the benefits are many, but what do I like best??? That was a tough one. 

After thoughtful consideration  I not only came up with decision, but am completely confident with my final answer. 

I shall now share my answer with you....…..What I like best about the challenge is….drum roll please…YOU!!

  

Yep, you read it right; the very best part of this challenge is having the opportunity to be part of you, (a unique and beautiful writing community, where I know inspiration is always just a click away.......)

Each day, through the eloquence of your words, I'm able to experience your life, a slice at a time, and share your unique perspectives....

Whether captivated by your honesty and raw emotion, delighted by your abundance of wit and humor; or stimulated by the depth of your insights, thoughts and opinions; I know I can count on you to be there….to write, to encourage,to inspire….and finally, to read without judgment should I feel the need to bare my soul……...Thank you for being there.....

The best birthday gift a girl ever had....

I don't remember what I had for dinner last night, or where I left my keys, but I do remember my tenth birthday. That was the year I received the best birthday gift a girl ever had.....

"Daddy’s home!" Paula screeched, flying to the kitchen door to greet him. Giggling with delight, she wrapped her arms tightly around his legs. “How’s my little Pumpkin?” he asked using his warm fuzzy voice. Bending down, he Peeled her off his legs and hoisted her high into the air….spinning her wildly til she squealed for mercy.  Placing my sister gently on the kitchen chair, he turned around to look at me, “So, he asked, lifting his eyebrows, “how’s the birthday girl?"

“Good", I lied, not wanting to talk about it. I hated to hurt his feelings, but he familiar ache had returned to my chest, and the thought of celebrating without mama only intensified the pain.

Hoping to conceal my imminent tears, I walked over to my sister's chair and knelt down beside her.

“Look at you, Paula”, I scolded, yanking at Paula's shoe. It attempt to waste time, I spent the next several minutes fiddling with Paula's socks and pretending to tie up her laces.

“Here, my dad said finally, breaking  the awkward silence, “maybe this will help.”

Swiping my cheek with the back of my hand, I brushed away the single tear that had managed to escape, then turned to him with a phony smile.

He didn't speak, but extended his hand and  helped me to my feet, then, still silent, he pointed toward the kitchen table. There it sat, a lone gift.  Loosely wrapped in what appeared to be a white paper bag, it was held together with a single piece of  tape.

 

"Go ahead", he whispered, nodding toward the odd looking package. "Open it."

I could feel my face light up as I pulled away the last of the paper. "Ooooh", was all I could manage......breathing in the sweet scent of leather

With trembling fingers I carefully examined  exquisite book. The color of caramel, its cover was adorned with impressive gold lettering; its exotic blank pages resembled parchment.

It's a diary", daddy began hesitantly, "I thought, well....whenever you’re missing mama….er…..whenever you’re feeling sad….. uh....I mean…..." his voice trailed off...

"It's okay, Daddy", I said, hugging him tightly. "I know exactly what you mean."

"So,  you like it? he asked timidly.

"Yes, daddy, I love it," I answered, and hugged him around the neck." It is the best birthday gift a girl ever had."

My Earthly Angel

   

.

 

My Earthly Angel

The child broke ‘way from her mom’s embrace,

Tears streaming down her tiny face,

“But Mama” she cried, you cannot go…

I need you here….. I love you so…..”

Her mother’s heart was filled with pain…

As she drew her daughter near again….

“My child”, she soothed, “you mustn’t fear…

For earthly angels are always near….

And when it’s time for me to leave….

You must promise me….that you’ll believe…

The world, I know, is a scary place….

But the angels…. they will keep you safe”…

The girl searched her mother’s weary eyes….

“But mama, how will I recognize?

Do they have wings, or do they glow?”

“Don’t worry, child, you’ll always know…

An angel’s love is so pure and true…

When your heart is hurting, they’ll find you”…

The years flew by, the child grew…..

In to this woman……who writes this poem for you….

With gratitude I’m here to say…..

I thank God for your presence, each and every day….

And My Earthly Angel, I want you to know….                                                        
I recognize YOU……
And love you so...

                                                                                        

I AM A QUITTER!!!

There I stood with my three children, on the fourth floor of the parking garage at Christ Hospital. It was barely dawn, and my husband had just been taken into surgery. Because of them, I knew what I needed to do...... 

“I don’t know where to go,” I whispered nervously,” I don’t wanna get in trouble.”

“It’s okay Mom,” my son assured me, as he lead me toward the back of his vehicle. “You can stand over here, no one will see you.”

"Are you sure", I asked apprehensively?

“Yes, Mom, I promise, they’re not going to arrest you”, he chuckled, "this is an open parking garage, look, no walls?"

I tried to smile, but had a difficult time finding any humor at all in the situation. When, I wondered, did smoking cigarettes become such a shameful act? When did the simple act of lighting one become akin to a sin?  When did I get to the point I couldn’t imagine my life without them?

All my anxiety seemed to magically melt away with one quick flick of my lighter. Ahhhh…. instantaneous tranquility…… How, can I possibly give this up? 

My mind flashed longingly back to another era….an era when smoking was not only socially acceptable, but encouraged. An era where cigarettes were not only enjoyable, but incredibly cool. An era where…….

The sound of my daughter’s voice snapped me back to reality.” Mom”, she said, holding out her hand, “it’s time to let them go.” For a moment, I stared at the nearly new pack sticking out of my purse, wondering momentarily if I should change my mind. “Just one last puff,” I sighed, in final resignation. Inhaling deeply, I allowed the of smoke to linger in my lungs, then I watched ceremoniously as the puffy gray tendrils drifted into the air. "Goodbye!" I said to my long-time companion.

 I knew it wouldn't be easy, but in honor of all those dear to me, there was no turning back......

It has been 162 days...14 hours and 16 minutes since my last cigarette:-)

Through the lens of a child

“We must look at the lens through we see the world, as well as the world we see, and that, the lens itself shapes how we interpret the world.” 
― Stephen R. Covey

One of lives greatest gifts is the ability to perceive the world as we choose. Our lenses are all unique.  It’s up to us how we decide to use them.

There’s nothing quite as wondrous as observing toddlers as they interact with each other and the world around them. With a brand new pair of lenses, pure and squeaky clean, they have the unique ability to see things as God intended them to be seen. They don't know, or care, about race or creed or status, and are only beginning to learn about greed....

Adults, on the other hand, accumulate multiple pairs of lenses, (Parent, child, sibling, friend, student, caregiver, employer/employee, co-worker, neighbor, etc.), and are expected to wear them not only simultaneously, but responsibly at all times.

Having said that, its understandable how clarity can dull or diminish as time goes by. Today, even as I write this, I’m busy polishing up my own pairs of blurry lenses, anticipating the sweet memories of how it feels to to view the world through the lens of a child…..

Who knows? I may even go out and build a snowman!!!!!!!!!:-)