Wednesday, September 20, 2017

What It Means To Be A Parent

Tuesday, September 19, 2017
9:11 PM

                                                             What It Means To Be A Parent


 Seeing my children as parents is heart warming and often laughable. This was one of those laughable times. Is that where that smell is escaping from…it's not the exhibit?

Tiffany and Chris decided Nana should go to Woodland Park Zoo with the grandkids, Avery and Aidan. It was a beautiful day with howling monkeys that scared the boys, giraffes that fascinated Avery and lots of photos of cousins in staged poses. 

For me it was a rare opportunity to be with two of my kids and two of my grandsons, yet neither of the boys will remember it. Aidan is now 10 and Avery almost 9 and as I reflect upon my time with them, my joy is bittersweet. I have tried to do some of the things a Grandpa would do with them, play games, go swimming, camping and clamming. I've wrestled and tussled and tickled. I've gone to plays, participated in Halloween parties, Christmas Eves and mornings. I've given and gotten lots of hugs and I love yous. I've snuggled during movies of Dragons and Super Heroes. I've made memories for me and for them.

Sometimes I feel guilty for having all these beautiful moments and sad that they never got to know their Grandpa Darrel. He died before even seeing any of his kids married, or his youngest son graduated from HS.  I wonder how he might have influenced their lives and if they might have changed his.

Uncle Sandor has filled the gap of both uncle and grandpa, getting involved in all the kid's lives and caring beyond that of an uncle. He has taken me in as well, in my old age. We will never know how our lives might have been different but in each of us there is a presence that is missed.

My Reflections… Most will be delightful memories but there is always the undertone of a presence that is missed.

Friday, May 15, 2015

Papa Truman

I've never really known someone,
So comfortable within their skin;
You have a knack for having fun,
I'm so lucky we are kin.

Your eyes have always twinkled,
Your mischief shines right through;
And though in time we wrinkle,
That twinkle still is you.

From dances at the Casino,
Or hauling water from the spring;
From Banana parties and lots of snow,
We never knew what joys you'd bring.

In Cowboy hat or Santa's clothes,
Before or after your tattoo;
The love we have for you just grows,
Your sincerity shines through.

You've been our ray of sunshine,
And rock to lean upon;
Don't you think for a moment,
We don't cherish what you've done.

You have quietly supported,
Your grandchildren's many ventures;
Their dreams might have been aborted,
Without your good intentions.

You never say a word,
 About the good you do;
But there is a little bird,
That sings praises just for you.

That twinkle that we see,
Comes from deep inside of you;
And it can only be,
Your "Goodness" shining through!
                                                                                       Lynn 2005

Friday, March 13, 2015

Pieces of Me

Forever there will be,
The many pieces I call me;
As the pendulum swings faster,
The more I wish to savor.

To fill my soul with music,
Let it soar with Mozart and Vivaldi;
And forever there will be,
The many pieces I call, me.

To drink of the sky so blue,
And bask on the sands of time,
These pieces that are me,
Forever there will be.

A life in the music of masters,
An essence of dulcimers and flutes;
Here find the pieces of me,
For forever, that's where I'll be!

Monday, March 2, 2015

Who Rides The Toy Horses: Searching for me

Who Rides The Toy Horses: Searching for me: Somewhere in the misty morn, Lies the answer to my dreams;  In the silence of the waking dawn, Vague images are seen. The haz...

Searching for me

Somewhere in the misty morn,
Lies the answer to my dreams; 
In the silence of the waking dawn,
Vague images are seen.

The haze upon the mountain lifts,
Like the clouds before my eyes;
And the dew that once the treetops kissed,
Dries as tears that have been cried.

But here am I, searching for me,
Drifting on the summer breeze;
Lost on some strange sea.

Born with each new ray of light,
Are hopes that have begun;
As warmth upon the summer breeze,
Into life they bring the sun.

Where does the  bluebird go at night?
Why do rainbows follow rain?
Why does laughter come with happiness?
And crying with the pain?

Here am I, searching for me,
Drifting on the summer breeze;
Lost on some strange sea.

Who holds the answers that I seek,
Where do I go from here;
Why must the nights be, oh so long/ 
What is this thing I fear?

Is there someone there for me? 
Or must I walk alone?
Where did my sunshine disappear?
And when will it come home?

Here and am I, Searching for me,
Drifting on the summer breeze;
Lost on some strange sea.

Thursday, February 26, 2015

A Precious Gift

To poor to give a present,
Oh no, I say, not I;
I gathered up the sunrise,
To put sparkle in your eyes.

To you I give the Springtime,
And flowers in their bloom;
To fill your heart with warmth,
On a wispy afternoon.

To you I give the smiles,
On all our children's faces;
To carry in your heart;
Like many soft embraces.

I give to you a stream,
And basking in the sun;
A campfire in the pines,
To share when day is done.

A gift of summer sunshine,
To melt the chills of age;
A hand to hold in evenings,
 And love written on life's pages.

If I were rich as Kings,
I could not give you more;
Then children, love, companionship,
A present not so poor!


Although you're just a piece of wax,
A stem ablaze with light;
You treat my heart to days gone by;
A midst this quiet night.

The flames grow tall, as so do dreams;
You give your all or so it seems.

Although you are but made of wax,
Your flame of life burns bright;
Memories adorn the hours,
On this most silent night.

A wisp of smoke, a flicker and a gleam,
You lend your all to the building of dreams.

Although you are but made of wax,
You bring to life my thinking back.