My Children
One of the first things I always tell people is
I have nine children.
I wait for
the reaction.
I
have seen it, heard it
Hundreds of times before
Yet, I need it.
Need the affirmation of my difference.
My children are my Pride.
I am the Mother, the Lioness,
of this Pride.
They
are part of me
I
made them
They
are dearer to me than my life
They have taught me so much more than I taught them
They have given me so much more than I gave them
They have been to me so much
more than I have been to them
They will never know.
Until I am a grandmother.
There is
No thing I would not do
No place I would not go
They do not need me so much
now
Sometimes,
though, they do.
The need completes me.
I am their mother.
*************************
Lonnie
On our first date, I thought
This man will be a great father
I was
only in high school
Why would I think such a thing on a first date?
Took me a few more dates to tell him.
“I thought of going into the
priesthood for awhile,
But decided not to.” Is this what Catholics think
When someone says they will be a great father?
Three years later, we were
married.
Four
years later, he was a father, but not a priest.
And I was, as I so often am, right.
He was a great father.
And so he is.
****************************
Tom
“What
do you do?” I ask.
“I am a carpenter,” says he,
“How about you?”
“Me? Oh, that’s easy. I am in love.
With
you.”
And
so I was.
Just
like that.
An
easy, soft fall
That ripped the shell of my world, my future,
Into shreds.
Like a molting, a shedding.
Giving me a new future.
One filled with ecstatic love.
Nights
of wonder.
Days
of fun.
This
man turns wood into art.
This man turns me. Turns me.
Changes me. Changes him.
Many many many many babies.
Teaming. Together. Holding fast.
A gradual letting go.
But an incomplete
one.
Always
connected.
Whispered
words and promises
We made when we were wed.
Thank you, love, for meaning what you said.
Thank you, love, for meaning.
********************************
James –
my partner in practical logistics
and improbable dreams
James
–
my tormentor in withholding
what he can control
James
–
my opportunity in acceptance
and letting go
James –
my
everything
and my nothing
James –
my wordless cuddler in the dark
and my doer of good deeds in the light
James –
my friend, my child, my brother, my father,
my
love.
***********************
The Girls
“I
want a dog.” says James.
“You want a dog?”
Yes.
“What kind of dog?”
Brown and fun. Find me a dog like that.
And I do.
Because I love him and I want
him to be happy.
If a dog will make him happy again, I will surely find a dog.
Brown and fun.
Sheltie. Brown. I bet she’ll
be fun.
Your
name is James. My name is Jacquie. Let’s call her Justice.
We get her. Love her immediately.
Like the parent of a first-born,
I know what kind of puppy I will raise.
She will not sleep in the bed.
She will not jump on people.
She will stop barking when I say stop.
Within days,
she is sleeping where she wants,
Jumping and barking at her own will.
She makes his eyes twinkle, though, like I once did.
And she makes him laugh like
I once did.
I
love the twinkle and the laughter.
We’re in a house now so we get another dog.
This one is for me. Liberty. My girl.
Liberty and Justice.
And one
for Tom. Patriot.
Twice the fun. Twice the dog hair.
Everywhere.
Christmas is coming. What does James need?
A puppy. Just like the perfect Christmas fantasy.
I pick
her up on Christmas Eve morning and put her in a box.
I say, “Let’s open our presents now!” And we do.
Liberty
and Justice cannot stop smelling the box, but James does not notice.
The box is on the table and they cannot reach it.
I see it move. I give it to
him and he opens it and there is – America!
Our three girls.
Who would have thought I would love dogs so much?
Not me.
They are our little family.
Barking,
jumping, and sleeping where they want.
****************************
Rusk
From the moment we found 4447
As we were driving and looking at homes
Our fifth
on this day
I
was in love with a house.
And a neighborhood.
My grandparents walked these streets.
They worked here. Raised children here.
My parents did, too.
Moved just
before my birth to a house
Not 10 minutes away.
Thought to be the edge of town.
Edge of the world.
Now I am back to roots much older than me
This house is as old as my
mother.
Everything
that could remain as old is here.
Everything that needed to be made new is here.
Wrap-around porch. My dream.
Many windows to bring the outside
in. The inside out.
What’s that noise?
Ah, it is the comfort of a train. Just behind us, a track.
The inexplicable peace-giving
sound of passing trains to keep us company.
Can it be ours?
My mother’s life found this place.
James’s mother’s death
gifted us this place.
I own part of it. I have papers that tell me so.
I have marked this territory
Just as surely as the birds in the trees have
marked their spaces
And the insects in the ground.
The simple truth is, though,
I do not own this house so much as
This house owns me.
This house is my comfort.
This
house is my home.
This is at last the house that
Wipes its hands on its white apron as you walk inside,
Immediately inquiring as to
your spiritual well-being, your balance, your center.
I look out the windows of my eyes through the windows of this house
I am
filled with gratitude that from beneath my toes all the way to the sky I see above
This house owns me.
**********
I Imagine Myself Old
I imagine myself old --
Hair silver as the fading moon
Skin wrinkled and worn thin
Bones stiff as winter wheat in a savory field.
But life still tastes good
Above and below.
I would probably have more trouble
With the ghosts of the past
If my memory wasn’t shot to hell.
I sacrifice boredom
to live in complete happiness.
Of
course, older doesn’t always mean wiser.
Sometimes it just means older.
Still –
I imagine myself old --
Brimming with wisdom’s light,
Knowing, as I do, ebb and flow.
Having seen death wash up on my shore,
Having carried home parts of it in my pocket,
Having arranged it on
the altar of my life and said prayers.
Old –
My belly shaking with laughter,
My eyes twinkling,
Teaching and learning,
Dancing and singing,
Giving and taking,
Loving and creating,
Dissenting and enlivening,
Seeing, growing, sweating, changing,
Bleeding on the pages of my life,
Walking through walls,
Living with intention,
Savoring the miracle of every hour.
**********
