… this tree could speak. Yes, this is ONE tree, not a cluster. I imagine it to be between 300 and 500 years old. If it could talk, it would tell me about my great-great grandparents who immigrated to America from Germany in the 1840’s. It would tell me how it watched as my grandfather, and later, my mother, took their first steps. It would fill this mind with my more of my family’s personal stories.
What words then do I write
When the ink is not to trust?
A plethora of letters yes!
The thoughts, themselves, disgust.
Do I have words left to say
That will not cause alarm?
Can I wake and try again
The third, perhaps, a charm?
(poem and art by me, CD-W)
A long time ago, when I wore these tiny boots, I didn’t know who or what I would grow up to be.
What I did visualize at a young age, was that, no matter what, I would be a mother.
But life doesn’t always listen to the script you write in your head. It teases you, tricks you, and leads you astray.
I fought hard for my babies. Basil thermometers, weekly blood tests, in vitro fertilization, the drug, Clomid, that gave me a cyst on an ovary. And on it went. Each time I left the doctor’s office, I cried.
At the age of 32, after a long, painful struggle, I received a phone call. “How does a boy sound?”
We picked up our son when he was five days old. My life was complete, joyous, perfect. My son taught me how to be a mother, and, for that I will be eternally grateful.
And then? Four years later, my infant daughter filled my arms.
Now? Both of my children have given me a grandchild. And, on May 18th, I will have my third. I feel like the luckiest mom in the world.
Life is a beautiful, wonderful mystery. Don’t give up on it. Just stay tuned for the magic that will happen.
Carolyn won’t notice I’m in her koi pond.
… when you think you’ve learned all you’re capable of learning, and then, something wonderful happens?
Today, me, the non-sewer, finished my granddaughter’s dress. The seams are wonky, it’s a little too big (falls off the shoulder), the back hem is longer than the front ….
Since it was in sewing language, I must have watched the tutorial fifty times. But I did it! The next one will be FLAWED TO a new level of PERFECTION! 🙂
You want to learn something new? If I can, so can you. Onward you go!
Yesterday, I finally went to Graffiti Park. Castle Hill (the Castle itself once was once a Military Institute) was supposed to be a building development. It failed but the concrete walls remained. So, guess what sneaky graffiti artists did? They painted. And painted. Now, with permission, you can create your own graffiti art. This means that every time you go, you’ll find it different. Cool, huh?
A Carolina wren found a place for her nest on top of our garage door opener! Hope she doesn’t mind the racket!