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Tag: time

#SOL24-25 No Fanfare

It is Tuesday and time to write a 'Slice of Life." 
Thank you Two Writing Teachers for creating this supportive community
of teacher-writers!

As I set the table for our family brunch, I had this moment of amazement: our youngest grandchild eats with a regular plate, a regular fork, and a regular cup. Everyone has a place setting of “adult-ware.” Wait – when did this happen? We have a bin full of children’s unbreakable dishes and tiny spoons and forks, and no one needs them anymore. We babysit the grandkids for a day or two each week, and somehow I missed this? How long have we been serving them with regular utensils? Right under our eyes, they have moved on. I wasn’t even aware that there was a ‘last time.’

There must be countless other examples; let me think –

  • all the baby clothes that no longer fit 
  • now they put on their own socks and shoes
  • they open their own yogurts and cheese sticks 
  • they know how to wash and dry their hands
  • when I am watering plants, they actually help me … whoa …

When we go for a walk these days, it’s the baby dolls who get strolled – and the granddaughters who do the pushing and caregiving.

Our babies have grown. 

I seriously don’t know when it happened, and I wish there was some way to slow it down. Yes, yes, I realize they are still quite little (ages 5 and 3), but this is astounding to me. 

From one stage to the next, time passes almost invisibly. No fanfare, no pushing, no demanding, it just happens, in the midst of living. 

I tried my hand at a triolet, to hold my reflections –

holding you close

oh my sweet dear one 
tender as morning dew
kissed by adoring sun
oh my sweet dear one
life’s magic being spun 
beaming light anew
oh my sweet dear one 
tender as morning dew

On buoyancy

Chris Margocs’ inspirational prompt for this Spiritual Thursday is to write about (or is the word ‘towards’?) those who have passed and left something behind in our hearts. 

Oh my, this writing prompt could not be more appropriate for this day. 

You see -
my father, 
a Rear Admiral in the U.S. Navy,
died two years ago, 
at the end of the first summer of this pandemic. 
Today, October 6, 2022,
he is being interred at Arlington Cemetery, in Washington, D.C.,
in a joint ceremony, with my mother alongside him;
my mother preceded him in death some four years ago. 

Our family has waited a long time for this precious day.

This passage of time makes it easier to talk and share about them. Time has healing powers through its ability to vary the lens on the past, to let one reflect in different ways and to be surprised by memories in unexpected moments. I marvel at how grief and time have combined to make memories of events for which I was not present, causing me to think deeply about my parents’ childhoods, their marriage, on and on. It is truly a blessing to have so many memories – the gift of time.

As my family and I prepared for this special day – this celebration of my parents’ lives – I kept coming back to this one photo, a photo taken on their wedding day, in June, 1954. They were married at the Naval Academy, right after Dad graduated. Let me share the photo here – 

My parents were married 64 years before Mom passed. This photo from their wedding day simply makes me smile. It is a treasure to have. Today, at the funeral reception, I am going to celebrate my parents with a short poem about this photo. Let me share it with you here, now.

Just look at this photo -

the twinkle in their eyes
the happy clench of their hands
the gentle lean of their heads
captivating looks 
captured for the ages

this is love at the launch
when fair winds beckon
before two souls set for sea
no storms in sight

what if 
this very moment of buoyancy
is what holds 
all the power and force
to maneuver through rough waters ahead

a love anchor 
stored on the underside of marriage’s hull
at the ready
throughout

what if 
this is our finding
this is the knowledge gained
from their sea trial?

the wonder of
meeting one another’s eyes
holding the gaze and smiling

such a simple joy
to return to 
again and again and again

whether spoken unspoken
love heals 
love hopes 
love holds
love always
always love
the whole of time

just look at this photo . . . 
On the first Thursday of each month, writers share their thoughts on spiritual topics.
Each month, a different host selects the instigation.