Showing posts with label parent. Show all posts
Showing posts with label parent. Show all posts

Sunday, October 31, 2010

Quill #94 - Upon the Marriage of Our Son and the Gaining of a Daughter (2006)

As a babe, your eyes were lined with care.
At two, you knew more than a child should bear.
Your voice, throughout the years, has grown more strong,
Deep enough to share another's song.

We enjoy the addition of a heart.
A daughter more will be a blessed start,
To what we hope will be a happy life
With young ones, pets, a warm and loving wife.

Just don't forget that you are still our son,
And more than that, were sibling number one.
No pow'r on earth can take us from your side.
We stand by you, your children, and your bride.

If future trials make your song feel weak,
To carry on as needed, do not seek
A path that takes you ever far from home.
For solace, there is no need to roam.

What we can, we will do; it's our role.
May your songs, joined together, make you whole.

Thursday, October 28, 2010

Quill #91 - Every family has one...

My parents, grandmother, middle brother and I were walking down an Omaha city sidewalk toward the optometrist's office where I was supposed to get new glasses. I was twelve or so, which meant my brother was about ten, old enough to not have his hand held constantly. He fell somewhat behind the rest of us and nobody really noticed or worried, assuming he was following along as he should.

My grandma started noticing, first, and then my parents, that every person walking the opposite way was giving us dirty looks, staring at us with outright hatred in their eyes. Puzzled, Grandma looked behind us and discovered Bro
walking as if crippled, using other behaviors to suggest a mentally challenged person, as well. Everyone who passed us thought we were ignoring our poor handicapped child!

I don't know why he bent his intellect toward causing trouble, but he was always a master at that skill.

(images from Lolcats)

Monday, October 11, 2010

Quill #79 - Halloween Memories #3

My brother cooked up a scheme. We had seen kids going around with cans to trick-or-treat for UNICEF. They were always given money instead of candy. He wanted to see if we could get some quick cash, too. I didn't often agree with his nefarious plans but this time I did. I knew my dad didn't like UNICEF, the organization, and I figured he wouldn't be too upset over this ruse if we were caught. Plus, in our little town, UNICEF cans were rare. What could go wrong?

We tried it one time and never again. Our very first house, we knocked on the door, smiled our innocent best, and - in unison - said the magic money phrase, "Trick-or-treat for UNICEF!"

The elderly man we had just accosted with our cuteness immediately noticed our lack of a papered collection can. Bro, the cannier of us, replied that we had forgotten it at home. Our neighbor peered at us with suspicion but dropped two nickels into each of our bags. We were ecstatic. Twenty cents on our first gig!

But then, the man continued. I guess he felt guilty about accusing us of fraud. He told us he hadn't had time to go out and buy any candy but we should wait a moment. He went back into his house and brought out an unopened package of cookies, put them into my bag and asked me to be sure to share with my little brother. We said we'd share and thanked him several times for his kindness.

At the car, Mom wanted to know what had taken so long. We told her everything except our deception. But, when she said the man had probably given us the only treat he owned for the next month, we both started crying. The guilt was too much to bear.

We had a short journey that night. My brother and I never told our parents and never spoke to each other about what we'd done. We held the shame silently. I don't know if he even remembers now. All I know is that I keep four nickels and a package of cookies on hand every year at Halloween, just in case.

Thursday, September 23, 2010

Quill #65 - 25 Things About Me (crossposted from FaceBook)

1. When I was a child, the only pets I ever loved died tragic deaths.

One hung itself on a leash when my parents weren't watching it while I was visiting grandparents, one was hit by a school bus on the street in front of our house, one was 14 years old when I got her and died within a few months, one got pneumonia because my parents wouldn't let it live in the house, and one died of car fumes because my parents didn't want the puppy in the car and the ride in the trunk took too long. I think this, combined with my father's attitude toward pets, made me the kind of person who is afraid to be attached too strongly to animals.

2. I'm a Libra. And while I've never put a whole lot of stock in astrology, I have taken the concept of fairness to heart. I have always been the kind of person who sought fairness and tried to be fair to others. I have often failed, but not for lack of trying.

3. The first time I remember being put on a diet was when I was eight years old. My mother decided she wasn't happy with her own appearance and she wanted company on her calorie counting program. At the time, I was normal for my age and development.

4. My high school class voted me the "Hardest Worker." In the four years, I got maybe two or three grades lower than an A, and placed third in my class. We were told that the top 5 people were so close that officials had to go back to grade school to assess who would be valedictorian.

5. The top two professions I wanted to follow, when I graduated in 1979, were denied to me because of my gender.

6. I had three miscarriages between my two children, mostly due to stress. In fact, our son was a miracle baby because I almost lost him twice, and daughter was a miracle baby because, even though I was under some of the worst stress of my life at that point, absolutely nothing went wrong with the pregnancy. Just for the record, I'm proud of both my children and cherish the time we spend together, even moreso now that I have a wonderful daughter-in-law and grandkids.

7. I am a philosophical Taoist. I believe that Christ was influenced by Taoism during the time he wandered and that the best parts of his message came from this earlier wisdom. I also think that much of his message has been distorted. I respect almost all religions. One of the few I don't respect, sadly, is the Taoist religion as it is now practiced. I would still defend the right to worship it.

8. I appreciate my parents and the childhood they gave me. I don't think they were perfect, and people make mistakes, but they did the best they could. All flaws in my character are my fault, not theirs. I also appreciate the extended family I had. I didn't always show my gratitude, but it was there. Is there.

9. I enjoy intellectual pursuits, but the whole reason for living is to love and be loved by others. Without family and friends, I wouldn't have reason to continue.

10. I don't think kids today are worse than kids before our time, or that the world is going to hell in a handbasket. I think, rather, that I'm more aware of problems that I mostly ignored when I was busy raising kids and working for survival. Now that I have time to pay more attention, I'm astounded by the problems that need fixing. On the bright side, I trust my kids and their generation to make a better future. I see evidence of improvement in some areas that I thought were lost causes.

11. I have spent most of my life refusing to hate anyone, ever. I have forgiven people who hurt my family, who hurt me, even those who hurt my children when they were small children. And, at this time in my life, I find myself angry enough with certain politicians that it's a good thing I'll never meet them. It's a good thing I don't carry weapons. I'm not sure that I wouldn't consider it worth spending the rest of my life in prison to remove their influences from the world. This is something I'm having to work to overcome in myself.

12. I don't like wind hitting my face. I feel like I can't breathe and start to panic.

13. I'm so scared of heights that I get vertigo in balconies. I've been this way all of my life and, to my knowledge, I've never fallen or been dropped from a height.

14. Candles, incenses and strong odors of any kind, especially chemical or floral, cause me to have serious headaches, get congested, and have trouble breathing. They actually affect me almost as badly as cigarette smoke. I often have to leave a store, restaurant, or even a friend's house due to the beautiful scents around me.

15. I'm thrilled to be playing Miss Maudie Atkinson in To Kill a Mockingbird. I think I was extremely fortunate to be chosen for the play and to have been given this part, especially, because I like being a champion for positive change.

16. I have given away, mostly to strangers, mostly to children, almost 14,000 books. If more books given to children didn't make -some- kind of difference, it wasn't for lack of trying. I'm 4libros on www.BookCrossing.com if you want to look.

17. I was a theatre critic in St. Louis for a few years for a public radio station.

18. My three favorite (non-religious) books are _The_Princess_Bride_ by William Goldman, _Illusions_ by Richard Bach (author of Jonathan Livingston Seagull), and _A_Dirty_Job_ by Christopher Moore. I also enjoy Terry Pratchett's Discworld series. There are many many more I could recommend, but these are my top few.

19. The most I was ever paid for a short story or poem was $50. That's happened three times, all three from winning literary contests. My short story, "The Mountain," has been published in small magazines five times.

20. This November 1st will be husband's and my 30th wedding anniversary. When we married, there were people actively opposed to our union. In fact, there were so many rumors that ours was a "necessary" wedding that, when I had trouble saying my vows, the minister almost stopped the ceremony. The rumors were completely unfounded. I was so much in love that, every time I looked at him, I started crying from happiness. My mother had the same problem at her wedding.

21. I crochet baby blankets and other items for charity.

22. Thanks mostly to my parents, I've visited almost every state in the union, three provinces of Canada, two Mexican states and London, England. I've lived in Kansas, Iowa, Missouri, Arkansas, Nebraska, Colorado and Arizona. In my almost 49 years of life, I've moved about 44 times.

23. I collect obscure poetry, owls, fiber arts, good quality pencils, and books.

24. I plan to copy this note from FaceBook to my blog. I've only been blogging for a few months. I started with the idea of putting all my writings in one place, so that my kids could read it, if they ever wanted to. The project has grown and I find myself writing more than I have in some time. Additionally, blogging has opened up a whole new community to me, one that has some very interesting people in it.

25. The best stories I ever told were imagined to entertain my middle brother at times during our childhood when our parents put me in charge of him and we had few to no toys to play with. I doubt he remembers "Pirate Ship" and "Junkyard Orphans." I barely do. But, this skill saved me from numerous spankings. I was the eldest and his actions reflected on my own, and I can only remember one time in my entire youth when he was held accountable for misbehaving when I was "in charge." Rather than resenting anyone for this normal part of family life, I am grateful for the development it gave to my creativity. Kids today have too many distractions from exploring their own minds. ;-) Yeah, I know, that's an "old person" thing to say.

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

Quill #50 - Pumpkin (2010)

She has a new love in her life,
And I'm happy for her.
I want her to experience
All the joys,
All the love,
All the freedom and laughter,
Everything wonderful in huge quantities,
More than I did,
More than any before her.
It is not jealousy that binds my heart
And causes my eyes to leak.
It is knowing how little time
I have left to spend with her.

-----

Song nears its ending,
Lilting flowers to my ears,
I hug my daughter.

Bird flies free with wind,
Speeding over bright meadows.
My feet wear stone shoes.

Pumpkin seed flowers
Into handsome orange fruit.
Stem will soon be cut.

-----

To be a healer is a sacred gift.
There are rules and vows,
Years of studious work,
Even then, many guesses.
To save a life, cure ills,
These are precious talents.
No real skill is required to
Become a mother but
You can't save a life
That was never given.

Monday, August 30, 2010

Quill #41 - Space - topic exploration (2010)

My family visited at an aunt's house.
All my cousins were there, my grandparents.
Suddenly everyone was rounded up,
Pushed into one tiny living room,
Children seated on shag carpeting,
Parents standing around in every space,
Grandma and Grandpa in recliners,
But not reclining,
As we all breathlessly watched a black and white screen,
And a helmeted man descending a ladder.
The strange thing was,
I thought we'd already been to the moon.

Generations of boys, sometimes even girls,
Have grown up believing that anything is possible.
Space travel sounded glamorous, slightly dangerous,
But always something we could strive to do.
And now,
When finally a dark-skinned child can be the president,
Now, when the "impossible" has happened,
An entire dream is cut off,
And this one wasn't even impossible.
Our final frontier is not space, not reality,
But a fantasy of travel,
"Star Trek,"
Going only where men have gone before.

-----

Astronaut or president?
President or astronaut?
The boy who could be anything,
Do anything,
Used to have a much harder choice.
Now it's easier to be the president,
No matter who you are,
Than to travel the stars.
The machines have stolen our jobs,
Even in space.

-----

Into the earth,
Into the ocean,
Deeper than ever before,

Nowhere to go,
No way to stop him,
Mankind must always explore.

Take away space,
Stop funding science,
Where will our brains take us then?

Overrun planet,
No other outlet,
How long will Life contain men?

Sunday, August 29, 2010

Quill #40 - Haiku-shaped poems for Zailin (2010)


Late blooming lotus
Dies in deep winter's embrace.
No promise of spring.

-----

A stone's longest skip
Will not prevent him sinking
Beside his brothers.

-----

Brave little boy runs,
Chasing after butterflies
He will never catch.

-----

Caped crusader comes
To save his parents from fear.
He hugs them too tight.

Saturday, July 31, 2010

Quill #19 - Comforter (2010)

I saw him balance a chair,
On top of a solid wooden desk,
Using one finger of his right hand,
While explaining potential energy.

At night he would recline.
I would climb into sturdy embrace and,
Entranced by the sun-ghosted hair
On his ticklish forearms,
Gently pull strands,
Not knowing how they tugged at his heart.
Body and mind entwined, he never protested.

Annoyed by the same treatment,
A husband doesn't see the china doll in his wife,
Until another blithe sprite comes along
To cajole threads one by one
From a fabric unfrayed by time.

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

Quill #6 - Cleanliness is Next to Godessness

The whole family was around for a holiday a few years ago. I don't remember why, but we were discussing bar soap. Our family shares the bar in the tub, as I think many families do, and I happened to mention that I always rinse off the soap before using it on my face. That statement had the kids staring at me with surprise.

I said, "Don't answer these questions out loud."

"Where do you use the bar of soap first, when you take a shower?"

All of them smiled and nodded.

"Now, where do you use it last?"

As if coordinated, the entire bunch scrunched up their faces and said, "Ewww..."

I am a vindicated woman.

Sunday, July 4, 2010

Quill #3 - Veneration (1999)

She would feel the Presence directly behind her,
Breath tingling the nape of her neck.
"Death approaches from the left," she'd read.
The Presence wasn't Death.

Once, in the birthing room,
Barely two years before her mother's passing,
The Presence had come to her,
Helped her disconnect the pain,
Kept her mind busy with words of
Kinship,
Motherhood,
The Nature of gods.
Important stuff.
Now it was the only mother left to her.

She, always a side-curling sleeper,
Would feel one lock lifted,
A cold sensation of air underneath,
Then the tress would be dropped.
Tense, awake, she would wait for another sign,
Another message of insight,
Some reason for the Presence's interest in her hair.
She was dissatisfied by its silence.

Later, she remembered a toddler game,
Favorite of her maternal grandfather,
Played regularly by her mother,
Brought over from Sweden by earlier ancestors.
Child positioned on lap,
The teasing elder would raise a rearward plait,
Murmur words, daring the child to respond.
The words meant, "I love you."
But that puzzle wasn't solved until her own daughter was born.

"You'd better not do that," was the challenge.
Her daughter, intrigued as she had been,
Wriggles from lap to back to repeat the ritual.
Child taking the mother's stance,
Giving the parent's command,
Giggling at her own audacity
And her mother's attempts to prevent the role reversal.

Repositioning the child for repetition,
"This do in remembrance of your great-grandfather,
Your grandmother, and me," she whispers to her toddler.
Prickles at the back of her neck complete a deja vu.
The Presence, finally honored, moves on.

Friday, July 2, 2010

Quill #2 - Running away from home.

I was three. I had just watched a TV show that included children running away from home, a fantasy that appealed to me whenever I was about to be spanked, but I threatened my mother with personal independence one too many times. She took me to the door, opened it, and told me I could go.

I looked up at her. She was wearing a blue cotton dress with little flowers all over, button-down front, tailored at the waist. I barely reached the hem. I considered the prospective spanking, then turned and looked up the long sidewalk steps leading from our house to the highway, almost a full block up a hill. I turned back toward the house and said that I could run away later.

"No, I'm tired of being threatened. Do it now."

"I'm cold."

Mom closed the door on me, went inside and got my sweater, helped me into it, buttoned all the buttons for me, and then waited.

"It looks like rain," I said.

The door closed. A moment later, out came my toy plastic umbrella and red rubber galoshes. Mom handed me the boots while opening the bumbershoot. I pushed my shoes into them. She gave me the umbrella while fastening the tops of my overshoes, helped me stand, brushed off the backside of my yellow dress, and turned me to face the hill.

I turned back. "I want to say good-bye to Daddy."

"No," she said. "He won't be home for a long time and I have to fix dinner for him. Better get going now."

Finally out of excuses, I took a deep breath and looked up at my mother's face one more time. She seemed quite serious. She turned me away and gave a little push against my back. I swallowed hard and headed up the hill.

I was walking slowly, and it was a long steep hill. The cars were pretty far away, yet, but they were worrying me. I knew I wasn't allowed to cross the street alone, especially busy ones. I decided to turn left at the top of the hill and follow the road to town, about two miles from where we lived, and then look for my grandparents' house. I had been that way hundreds of times, was hopeful I could find them, and pretty certain they'd take care of me since my parents didn't want me anymore.

I don't think I made it more than halfway up the hill when Mom grabbed me from behind, swung me around, then carried me back home. I had just begun to adjust to the idea of really leaving and was almost disappointed, all the moreso when, at dinner that night, she told Dad I was crying and upset the whole time. I distinctly remember that I was not crying, and was taking things rather calmly, but mine was not the version told to every family member, friend, and chatty acquaintance over the next year.

I never threatened or tried to run away again, though I considered it often. She took that as evidence that her parenting skills had worked.

I just never thought of a foolproof plan.