Poetry Quickfire, inspired by Dad

You all know how I love impressionist, expressionist, and fauvist artists.  The fluidity and life of those canvases...

 Dynamic

Walk as a fresh canvas
to offer life and love
for a share in pure bounty.

Blend my colors
as I sculpt the yes to you
and frame the world to matter.

See the whole being
with layers of healing peace
and gather a broken soul.

Grab the frayed paintbrush
to pull out the boldness
that joy demands of you.

Dedicated to my dear Dad (7/25/1932 - 12/27/2000)  He believed in meaningful connections with others. I see how he added color and vitality to others' lives.  I feel humbled by his example. Love you Dad.

Feeling the loss of you in the everyday; striving to connect with you in the silence

I can imagine your gentle eyes focusing on the boys' chess moves as they sit across from me now.  I wish they knew you.  I can imagine my daughter's eyes lighting up when you would compliment her latest outfit.  I wish she knew your hugs.

Has it really been 11 years since your generous laugh faded into memory?

The other night, I closed my eyes real tight like I was 9 years old trying so hard to visualize you in my mind.  I don't want it to be difficult to get the real you back in my mind.  Why can't I look at photos still even after all these years?  I like to stop and think though of what you would say about something I read or something I wrote.

I miss you Daddy. I always will. I'll keep reaching for your hand.  Some days I feel so little and vulnerable. A dad's hug would make it so much better.

Happy Birthday in Heaven.  Love to think that you're having one of your favorites, chocolate donuts.

Papa, Can You Hear Me? I Hear You.

"Am I talking to the wall?"

"Don't aim in that direction. You'll hit your brother with the puck."

"How can you be bored? We're drowning in toys!"

"You're hungry AGAIN???"

Talk about being a broken record. I feel like I'm always saying these things. Where are those nuggets of maternal wisdom? Gratefully, my wonderful Dad pops into my mind every once in a while when I'm having one of those "moments" with the boys.

This morning, there was a standoff between 2 of my sons. One son is making a face at the top of the stairs. One son is making not so nice comments at the bottom of the stairs.

Enter mother. "Grandpa John believed that we should live life always thinking of the other person who lives with us, around us, and shares this world." Even though they didn't know Dad, I hope his voice and wisdom resides in a comforting place within my kids.

My Dad told me to fight those inner dragons that hold me back. Dad, some days I need a bigger lance!! If he was here, he would have a good comeback for that one.

Hoping to connect again through poetry

Connect

Daddy was once a little boy
restless on a Manhattan stoop.
That little boy swallowed hardship
as his mind stretched like landscape.
That little boy imbibed a laughing room
as his spirit ascended cold flat roofs.
Six decades elapsed when that little boy
pieced together with a waiting universe.
Daddy’s daughter sits restless in the rain
looking through the nowhere for his grin

Today we honor all who gave so much for our freedom.
God bless our military and their families.
Happy Memorial Day!

Monday Memory Madness

It's Monday so I can't forget to play Monday Memory Madness along with Dani over at Dani's Daily Drop. Today Dani asks if there is a particular scent that triggers a certain memory or an unpleasant scent that you may actually enjoy. It took me a while, but this memory came to my mind.

Any of you out there know the distinct scent from Chaps cologne for men? My Dad loved to use this cologne daily. All of us in the family would joke about how the scent was overpowering and not so pleasing. He would smile with his usual grin and assure us that there are those who appreciate a Chaps man.

My dear Dad passed away almost nine years ago. I would love to smell that Chaps cologne again. It would bring me back so quickly to those fond memories of Dad bragging about his Chaps. I think I would stop in my tracks if that scent came into the room. Another day wishing that I could give my Dad a hug :)

Please visit Dani's wonderful blog to link up and share your own special "scent" memory.

Watching over us

This is the first painting you see when you enter my living room. It is a print of Monet's The Artist's Family In The Garden. After looking through countless prints online, this one spoke to me personally during a rough time in my life. My Dad had died a few months before after a difficult bout with cancer. Missing my Dad, I felt drawn to the spirit of this painting. To me, I imagine how the artist/father watches his family with love as he paints this beautiful picture. He is off to the distance, but still participating in his family's joy surrounded by all the beauty of the garden. I like how he painted those points of light shining through the trees and dancing in the grass. That light makes me think of little gifts of Heaven adding to the richness of this moment of peace and happiness in a family's life.

When I stop to look at this painting, my heart aches a little less because it reminds me how my Dad is still here watching me play with my kids in the yard. It comforts me to believe that his spirit still watches over me with a father's love. I can easily see his smile when I imagine how pleased he would be watching my kids grow and play. I keep these thoughts close to my heart.