SOLC7: Laundry

Laundry.

Five jeans, three leggings, one pair of legs on the move.

Blue favorite shirt, two sweaters, wrap her up in comfort.

Fashion blouse, cute striped T-shirt, somethings new.

Socks – seven pairs, six singles, where are the missing ones?

One suitcase, three bags, hamper full of clean clothes, cosmetics and purse.

Two shopping trips, evening talks, tens days passed fast.

Snacks. Keys. Hugs.

Four flights of stairs, three roommates, Tweets, and 1000 laughs.

Laundry will come home again and so will her stories.

Elizabeth hanging out with her roommate and friend at the men’s basketball game. Go Lancers!

SOLC1: Playing Hookie

Today I played hookie.

As a high school, I secretly  wanted to play hookie from school, but the guilt swarmed over me and I never dared skip. Too risky! My parents. Possible in-school suspension and my own pounding heart kept me in check. But the thought of adventuring away with a friend to have whimsical fun and a carefree day away from studies tempted me.

Today I did play hookie. I did have fun, guilt free, being swept away by my dear one. Yep. We went shopping, glorious shopping. More Elizabeth than me, but I was smiling all the same. My college daughter is home on spring break and we needed to get away. Clothes called to us and greet us with beautiful corals, teals, and spring. We laughed looking at home furnishings and imaging new beauty added to our rooms.

Words. Stories. Shared moments of times gone by were savored all day long. These were the best prizes of the day. No purchase necessary. Just time and attention as the conversation ebbed and flowed, sealing our special day. We ended our spending spree with manicures. Sitting side by side, my heart was thankful I had played hookie. I played hookie from the hurried moments, the demands of my job. My heart didn’t feel guilty. I played hookie on the “I wish I would have” thought and embraced the joy of this carefree day spent with my daughter. My smile spreads. Yep. I think I will play hookie again.

Elizabeth’s nails are stunning. The intricate art replicates the loving heart of my daughter.

Beautiful blue! My hands remind me of mothering and the memories held.

SOLC: Made My Day

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Teenagers.

That word is packed with emotions, growth, and patience. Some may add craziness, moody, and impulsive to the list. In any case, tolerance, love, and understanding wrap around the teenage package.

I chuckle admitting I’m a proud mother of three. Yes, three teenagers. Yes,three teenagers full of liveliness and mischievousness. And yes, I color my hair.

It’s days like today that make me smile.

I chauffeured our youngest, the thirteen-year-old, to school this morning. We talked about his classes and what he expected to happen today. Listening (car rides are great for this), I encouraged him to stay positive and make the best of his situations. He seemed prepared, emotionally as well as academically. Pulling into the circle-drive, I smiled and said, “I love you!” with a big smile on my face. My motherly heart was wanting to wrap him up in a hug and just go home for the day. Instead, he returned the smile and said, “Yeah, thanks.”

He lumbered toward the entrance as I turned to go. My eyes followed him momentarily around the cul-de-sac, enough to catch the glimpse. My thirteen-year-old had turned back to make eye contact and raised his hand. Responding to me (in front of his peers), his fingers curled and signaled the sign language “I Love You” sign. He smiled … and I melted.

He made my day!

SOLC: 10 Cents

We are privileged to have my father-in-law in our home. After the love of his life passed away, he joined us, adding a richness to our family. I miss my mother-in-law. She had an exceptional way of loving and accepting people unconditionally. Her warmth is cherished in my heart.

Sharing stories at the dinner table is a favorite, especially when Dad G shares. My father-in-law had a smug smile when he shared this slice about his wife.

They had gone shopping. Their cart was full, and Betty was busy unloading the cart. My father-in-law had lingered back, checking out a magazine. Normally he was there helping, but not this particular day. Another gentleman had come in behind Betty, holding his couple of items. As the cashier was ending, the man had put his purchases down and pulled out his change.
Meanwhile, my mother-in-law finished with her last product and listened for the total.

“$67.10 is the total,” the cashier stated.
Immediately, my mother-in-law reached back to the open hand of change, never looking up, and began to dig around for the one dime she needed.

At this point in the story, Dad G said, “You see, I always was behind her ready with a handful of change. So Betty was really surprised when she heard,
‘That’s okay lady, just make sure you leave a little change for me.’

We started laughing, deep-down-bottom-of-your-gut kind of laughing.
“What did grandma do?” our youngest asked.
Dad G paused, smiled, and said, “She didn’t say anything at first except for ‘oooohhh’ and was red in the face.”

We laughed some more and shared in the memory. Dad G chuckled too, remembering. We all could visualize grandma, shocked and embarrassed with her husband lingering behind. We were connected.

Now when we hear an amount with ten cents attached or see the lone dime, we smile, feeling her love all of again.

SOLC: Happy Birthday

My daughter is fifteen today. Fifteen.

Fifteen!

She is beautiful, loving, and FIFTEEN.

She interacts with friends easily,

participates in class, and in general, is helpful.

She’s daddy’s girl with his true, blue eyes,

loves golf and smiling with him.

She’s adored, cherished, and protected

by dad plus two brothers. 🙂

She advocates for herself and others who don’t.

She’s a good friend, a listener and encourager.

She’s a flutist, a freshman, and

giggles incessantly at the little things.

She’s my only daughter, the young lady who shares her dreams,

makes my heart swell with joy, love, and admiration.

Her smiles and written words are posted nearby,

melting my heart.

My daughter is fifteen, FIFTEEN!

I love her.

Happy Birthday, E!

SOLC: Laughing

For the past half hour, our three children have been sharing teenage sayings, tagging on to stories, and laughing. LAUGHING! I thought, I wish I could record the three-some laughter and post it. The noise, somewhat annoying yet definitely inviting, snagged my attention and kept me from being productive in my reading. My husband walked through their hysterics, shaking his head. His eyes said, “Can you believe this?”

It’s not that our kids don’t laugh; many times they are making cynical remarks or listening to their music or doing homework. Sharing stories and laughing for over a half an hour – it’s just a rarity. I wanted to stop time … and video it all. We’d probably win $10,000 on America’s Funniest Videos. The viewers would begin to laugh even if they couldn’t understand the words. The cheerful pitches spurred a million endorphins through our three teenagers’ brains.

I’ve noticed this positive change the past few weeks, ever since our trip to Florida. The sunshine did cheer our spirits, but our two youngest got a taste of not having their senior brother around for four days. They had been remarking, almost reveling in the fact that Wes will be out of the house in the fall. “My own room,” our youngest declares. “No more bossing,” our daughter states. Yet deep down, past the annoying remarks and sibling nuisance, our three teens like each other.

So I grab this slice, this moment in time, and … smile.

I laugh and hold and savor the moment.

Laughter… vibrate through our beings, warm our hearts, and connect our spirits. We…are…family! ❤

SOLC: Niece’s Poem

NOSTALGIA by T.G.

I miss that place

Where I used to be:

My childhood land

With the lavender tree.

I miss that grass,

And those golden fields,

The times we used twigs

For our makeshift shields.

I miss that pond,

With the brand-new deck,

Where we’d use a canoe

To make our trek.

I miss that barn,

With the musty stalls,

Which I never minded,

Never minded at all.

I miss the house

On the big, tall hill

With the dark green shutters

Above the windowsills.

I miss our swings

And the climbing tree

That stained our hands

And feet and knees.

I miss the horses

And their comforting smell

With sparkling eyes that

Held my secrets well.

I miss the path running

Through the woods

Where I skipped and laughed

As lively as I could.

I miss my grandfather

and his good ol’ dogs

and doing chores

and catching frogs.

I miss my grandmother

And her sweet smile

As I sat in her kitchen

And did dishes awhile.

I miss those strays,

The cats we had,

Whose kittens we’d catch

And get scratched real bad.

I miss those days

As we lay in the sun

Soaking up all the rays

And just having our fun.

I miss those cats,

And their colorful fur,

Especially Buttercup,

My favorite, her.

I miss dear Grandma

And her warm hugs

And her talent and her laugh

And her homemade rugs.

I miss ol’ Gramps,

And his mischievous ways

and him talkin’ fast

and us balin’ the hay.

I miss that path

That meandered in the trees

Where the branches creaked

And whispered in the breeze.

I miss the horses,

And the bridle leather

And feeding them oats

In all kinds of weather.

I miss the swing,

All knotted and worn,

And the mulberry tree

Where our clothes were torn.

I miss that hill,

With our little house,

That held just us

And sometimes a mouse.

I miss that barn

With the stalls and hayloft

Where the sparrows gathered

And the hay was soft.

I miss the pond

Where my favorite horse died

And I sat next to the water

And I remember I cried.

I miss the grass

That grew thin and tall

And hid all the bugs

And stole our baseballs.

I miss that place

From my childhood,

But I’ll never forget it.

I don’t think I could.

SOL: Grandma’s Cookies

Last week, I met with our writing study group Ruth and I are facilitating. I featured the book, Sugar Cookies Sweet Lessons on Love by Amy Krouse Rosenthal, as a springboard for our writing.

Memories of  Grandma flooded my thoughts shaping into a short poem with immense meaning.

Grandmother’s Cookies

Aroma of belonging

Morsels of happiness

Sweetness of endearment

Constant

SOL: Comfy Pajamas

As I was going about my morning routine, tossing in a load of laundry before hitting the shower, my mind lingered on my soft, comfortable pajamas. I love them! My husband gave them to me last Christmas, a loving gift of relaxation. He knows how crazy our schedule is, juggling family, activities, and personal goals. The pajamas represent more than clothing. They are a symbol of clarity and comfort.

Comfy Pajamas

There’s something magical

about comfy pajamas

like a potion weaved through the cotton,

threads soothing tension away.

 

Sliding my legs and arms in

one by one

I’m instantly comforted,

caressed,

cuddled.

 

Menial tasks are pleasurable wearing

my comfy pajamas

No wonder I change early in the evening,

cozily embraced.

 

Lounging in my PJs,

clears my thinking,

as I commence

to writing.

SOL: Drum Lessons

Tap

tap

tappity-tap

tap

tap

tap.

The drum sticks beat.

Left, right

left, left, right.

Left

right, right

left.

Rhythm bounces on the counter top, on the dashboard, on the floorboards.

Drum lessons.

Tim’s career has taken wings in the form of drumsticks. He carries them everywhere. Each spare moment, he slyly pulls the wooden tools out and taps. Taps. Taps.

He taps dreams and passions into each beat.

Tap. Tap. Tappity-tap.