Tuesday, March 26, 2013

Once upon a time, on the first day of Spring...

a boy and a girl were married.

From the day the Boy had first seen her, he knew she was The One. So exactly 2 years after they first formed their household union, they were to make it a permanent one with signatures and flowers and a solemn ceremony.

This ceremony was to take place high in the majestic mountains of the magical faraway land where they lived called "Vail Colorado." There was snow in its mountains, even on the first day of Spring, and the Holy Man who would perform their ceremony was out in that snow performing a different sort of ceremony with 2 poles and 2 flat pieces of wood. His Holy Watch was apparently broken, causing him to rush in late wearing muddy boots.

The Boy, the Girl, a friend named Mildred and the Girl's young and beautiful sister all passed secret smiles amongst themselves on observing the man's muddy footwear, it being irregular indeed to wear such attire to perform this solemn ceremony, and didst bring them a chuckle.

The Girl's younger sister with the naturally occurring dark hair played a stringed instrument and sang a moving ballad to the young couple. The Holy Man attempted to lead the ceremonial participants in a recitation of the Lord's Prayer. Again they passed secret smiles amongst themselves while mouthing words that may or may not have been correct, as the raven-haired sister of immense beauty was the only person besides the Holy Man familiar with the words. And didst I mention she sang like an angel?

In time the Boy grew into a Man, knowing all the more surely that, indeed, she was The One.Their union was strong, unusual in the fickle and self-serving times in which they lived. Their time lasted into 4 decades,  cut short only by her untimely death. The Man and the now unnaturally raven-haired sister still grieve, but as they share the story of The Old Days and the Holy Man of the muddy boots, and of the first day of Spring all those decades before,

they smile.

Skimmer's Recap: Canst thou tell who the young sister may have been? The Girl Bride was actually the pretty one, but she would have found the shameless younger sister's telling of this story amusing.
(Hi Keith! i love you!)

Wednesday, March 13, 2013

Poeming: One Year. (for Patti)

(for Patti)

One year gone,
the year of “firsts”--
First Thanksgiving
First Christmas
First birthday.
First anniversary.
One year gone,
one year since
you didn’t wake up
in the morning,
leaving me dangling
from this earth
by a fraying strand
of thread.
“One year gone”
births in me
a baby-sized hope
for the next year:
for less sorrow,
fewer tears,
and a stronger tie
to this earth
where you no longer

jle 2013

Tuesday, March 12, 2013

Poeming: Winds.

My God, I pray
for help today
I’m struggling hard
it seems.
I know You hear
my unformed prayer--
I’m losing ground
I fear.
Please whisper clear-
-ly in my ear
Your words
solid and true,
that I might know
this wind that blows
is not as strong
as You.

Monday, March 11, 2013

Good Grief: Finishing the Firsts.

The adorable Miller cowpersons, Michael Charles Miller
and Patti Susanne Miller (before I came
along for them to pick on.) ;-D

As I'm writing this after Sunday's midnight has carried me into Monday the 11th of March, I feel relief.

The relief comes from knowing all the Firsts I lived through in this past year since my sister Patti died are now over.

The First birthday without her voice on the phone. The First Thanksgiving, the First Christmas. Her First birthday without her presence, daughter Cori's birthday where I tried (semi-successfully) to make the amazing chocolate birthday cake Patti's husband Keith would make for her. And the First weekend one year after she left us Saturday the 10th last year, her peacefully in her sleep, and leaving the rest of us sleepless in the missing her.

No, I don't think for a second that the pain of missing her is over, or that I'll stop thinking, "Oh! I need to tell Patti--" I know better. But I do know the pain that knocked me head over heels like a harsh wind on all those Firsts has spent some of its power in this past year. That same wind will still blow, but I look forward to the gentler breezes of the future as the grief-storm slowly calms.

But I'll likely always still cry a little and smile when in my head I tell her, "I love you!" and I hear her warm voice answer, "I love you more!"

Skimmer's Recap: I think that since the last year has been a crash course in "Suck" that God should give me a pass for the next few years at least. (Pretty please, God?)

Friday, March 08, 2013

Just another Friday mourning.

my sister Patti and her husband Keith in Vail, Colorado.

I seem to be made up mostly of feelings and senses and nerve endings, and for days my body has been warning me "it's coming, it's coming," the "it" being the one year anniversary of my sister leaving those of us who love her behind in this world.

I've almost looked forward to this date thinking "finally I will have finished all 'firsts' and maybe my spirit will calm some." But Death and I have always had issues, and I suppose always will. As a couple of my friends in bookclub said, we weren't made for death originally, we were made to walk in the Garden with God, so we'll always be unsettled with Death.

But as the world now stands, everything with a beginning eventually has an end. Books end. The last piece of cake gets eaten. Spring leaves turn brown in the Fall. Beloved pets and grandmas and sisters eventually have an end. It may be true, but I don't have to like it.