Here we go again

Living is about coming and going,

Believing and knowing.

Life is a bout living life to its fill.

Life at moments is all up hill.

In this moment I am offered some choices.

In this moment there is shock and rejoices.

Aw shit, cries my ego inside.

Another change.

At the moment it feels that my spirit has died.

I want to run.

I want to stay.

I want to love another day.

I want to do good.

I want to do what is right.

At this moment, I do not have the will to fight.

I am sleepy.

I am restless.

I am screaming with no voice.

So I will take one moment at a time.

I will surrender.

I will manage just fine.

I will live to love another day.

But in this moment I feel my joy has gone away.

So I will take one moment at a time.

I will surrender.

I will manage just fine.

I will live to love another day.

 

 

Another Day in Paradise

I am to learn to make this heaven on earth.

Just consider this then another day

In Paradise.

The angels sang their songs.

The children sang along.

The old women sat out on the stoop.

The young women chopped up meat for soup.

The sunset was brilliant.

I thought I saw heaven in the the skies.

All in all, just another day in paradise.

How do you spell Mother’s Day without Mother

It is the first Mother’s Day without Mother.

She will be gone exactly one month.

How do you spell Mother’s Day without Morther?

Do you spell it

S A D?

Do you spell it

E m p t y?

Do you spell it

G o n e?

How is the pain settling in?

Do I focus on her new life

With the angels and saints?

Do I ask the dear Master

to help me feel that I ain’t……

• missing her
• angry that I did not do more for her
• regretting that I did not record her voice when I still could
• not listen to her
• not feeling sorry for myself that she is gone
• not knowing what to feel ???

I have never stopped being glad she was my Mother.

I have never spent a Mother’s Day without her here on the planet.

So, I am asking you all

With your college degree

How do you spell Mother’s Day without Mother?

The Bitches and Witches under the Willow Tree

The bitches and witches

Gathered under the Willow Tree

The reason for the gathering

They thought was to bury me.

But believe me folks

This is no joke

I am alive as I can be

They do not know who they are dealiing with

Because I am happy, joyous and free.

The hatred they are spilling out

Will not “make my day”

I will continue on my path.

No matter how they laugh.

I will give them the understanding.

I will give them an extra smile.

I will give them life long friendship.

While I walk this lonely mile.

I will give them unconditional love.

I will show them what they scream at me

I can rise above.

You, my friend have met them as you go about your day.

They are the winners who do not know about

Sticking to the goal

Of bring more to life than you take away

They do not do what’s best.

They bitch and moan

Critize and scream

While putting us to the test.

So I will ask a favor

Please if you have time

Do this for me

Send some love

From God above

To the bitches and witches under the willow tree

Before the ones that get buried

“Is not me.’

I am burden down

With grief and loss

I have no voice

To speak

I am not in that sacred place

To turn the other cheek.

So when you do your congregating

Please say a prayer for the aggravating

Bitches and Witches under the Willow Tree.

 

The Grande Born Again Witches

I am living with three women

Who are mean as they can be

They pretend to be Christians

But they poke fun at me.

I give them love

I give them food

I give them of my time

But all they ever give to me

It hatred out of time.

I wonder seriously what I did to them

In another life

To cause to them to be so hateful

And cause for me such strife.

They talk about loving the Lord

Then kick me in the shin

I wonder what the Master wants of me

My patience is growing thin.

They know my Mother died

Not even a month ago

Yet they demand so much of me

I think I will have to go

Back into our former life

To see what I did then

Perhaps what I find out there

My present life can mend.

No one could see I was crying

No one could see I was crying

As I ran home from school to your arms.

No one could see I was crying

As grew not having your charms.

I had not your grace.

I had not your beauty.

But, I did have your strength.

So, tonight while it is raining…

And the whole world is fast asleep.

No one could see I was crying

As I walked the lonely empty street.

Oh, Mother, I hate it when the train

Blows and whispers your name.

There is a whole hole in my heart

That feels as if nothing will fill it again.

No one could see I was crying

When we laughed so hard together.

You giggled and I roared while the others tried to rest.

Finally, they could resist no longer

They had to protest.

We were all going to spend the day together.

Then there came a change in plans.

I waved good-bye as you all drove away….

No one could see I was crying.

In the rainy evening years later

As your portrait smiles on my face

I am ashamed that I cannot control

The pain I feel in this place.

What is heaven like for you Mother?

Is it peaceful on that shore?

Do you get to hear the music

That you longed for evermore?

No one could see I was crying

As I stayed here on alone.

Thank you for the laughter.

Thank you for the teachings

That you shared so kind,  so free.

Thank you my darling Mother

For always loving me.

No one could see I was crying,

When they laid you in your “tomb’.

I think I will stop crying soon

Just you wait and see.

Tomatoes

I love the smell of a tomato field.

We picked them for Aunt Annie in the summer in New Brunswick.

I wanted a perfume that smelled like the vines and leaves.

Brandie made turkey bacon and tomato sandwiches for breakfast

When we had gathered together when you went Home.

You  made the best sliced tomato platter when we were growing up.

When I think of Home…I think that Heaven must be a giant field of tomatoes.

On CKUA, during the fun raiser this week “Home grown tomatoes” was a featured song.

I just had a tomato for my bed-time snack.

Tomatoes grow from the tiniest seed.

I had a container garden with tomatoes growing in them.

Perhaps, this year, on Mother’s Day I will honor you with a great

Toma toe sandwich.

It could become more famous than Charlie Brown’s great pumpkin.

I shared your green tomato chow chow recipe with many folks

The last year I had my own garden.

Loved the smell of Grandmother’s kitchen when she made her

large batches of pickles,  homemade bread. 

She brought out the last of the jars of green tomatoe

Chow chow on your birthday in August 

It told us you would soon be taking us home for another year.

Back to school,  Sharon’s birthday and the long Ontario winters.

There were tomatoes as a special treat during fall harvest.

Huge bushel baskets of them.

Tomatoes are wonderful, sweet and good for the heart.

So were you Mother.

So were you.

Here is a bushel basket of gratitude.

Thanks for all the things you taught.

Thanks for your love, tomatoes and especailly your smile.

The train whistles sing your name.

Many lives were touched by your love.

Enjoy your new Home with a view of Tomatoes.

 

Mother’s smile

This morning, I found a smile on my pillow.
I was positive I would not smile again.
Then the gratitude of your love nudged me awake.
I began my day with a bountiful heart
Filled with the memories of your loving ways.
All the distance between us was gone.
I embraced your kind Spirit.
I cuddled in the corner of my mind with our memories.
I found a smile on my pillow.
Then I saw your note.
“My dear Child, I had to go.
I had work to do.
I like it here.
So will you
Cry if you must.
Oh, you must for a while.
Borrow my joy to make it through.
Share this smile
With your sisters and brother.
Share this smile
With all of the others.
I will be sending you more.
It is peaceful here
‘On that far distant shore.’
Share this smile.
I will be sending you more.
You will be finding my love
Smiling back from the mirror.
You will find my love
By letting others nearer.
You will find my love
In all that you do for others.
I love you Child.
Stay true to yourself.
I placed a smile
On your pillow.
I imprinted my love on your heart.
Love, always and all ways.
Mother.”
I found a smile on my pillow.
I looked again.
I had two.
I picked one up.
I am sending it to you.

Beautiful family

I have the most wonderful women in my family.

From the “Last of the clan” to “Great Auntie here I am.”

My neighbours, my companions, the women at tea

Have taught me to be open, to be free.

However, my family has taught me the best

To be ourselves, to put worries at rest.

Their grooming,

Their laughter,

Their wonderful smiles

Fill my life with such joy

That It makes it all worth  while

 

My blood family make me so proud

I want to sing their praises from the nearest cloud.

My spiritual family are always on hand

Regardless of the fact they are spread ‘throughout the land’

The women of my Faith the surround me

Their love does astound me.

I have the most wonderful women in my life.

They show me how to love.

Women’s hands

I watch women’s hands.
I learn from them.
Some hands are open.
Some hands are closed.
Some hands are baking.
Some hands are making
clothes, mending or brand new.
Some hands will always have to “make do.”
Some hands are willing.
Some have no choice.
Some are speaking instruments
For those without voice.

Grandmother’s hands were cleaning, crocheting, caressessing.
With her hands there was no second guessing. Now there were moments when on a fevered brow Those hands were healing With a gentle “Hush, now.”

Mother’s hands were gaily saying “Clean your room, get your books, get ready for church,  or come sit near it’s time for praying”

I am wondering as I ponder looking in the past Just how wonderful their hands are now. Now that  there are no more chores to do. Now that  there are only “angel jobs’ and Souls’ to  “pray through”  Up there is just a room with a view.

Now in the evening at the close of day, I fold my hands and respectfully say “Precious Lord, take my hand….”