The Day My Daddy Cried

 

I miss my Dad! 

(the song in the background was from my previous post but I left it up because this is the song my dad would sing all summer long while working in his garden -
 he loved the outdoors)

  







When I was a little girl, I would stand by the door 
when it was time for my dad to arrive home from work...

all bubbly with excitement to greet him...


Me and Dad!

He'd pick me up

and give me a big kiss on the cheek

such a wonderful moment...

the best!



He was a hard working man; a wonderful provider for his family and a great example of what hard work really was. Knowing the value of a dollar, never squandering a cent, he always reminded us to save. He was a child during the great depression and knew first hand how difficult times can become.  I don't remember him sitting down much.  He would come home from work, and work some more...in his amazing vegetable garden, in the yard, in and around the house. He could and did repair and build anything... a jack of all trades, he took great care of us! 

He served his country in the navy and fought in WWII.

He had the gift of discernment...to see through a facade and tell it like it is...he was a very truthful man.

He was a Golden Gloves Boxing Champion ~ As a result, he could be intimidating to some...(perhaps the reason I didn't have many dates)???!!! 

My dad had a sense of humor...a silly one! He made us laugh quite often with antics, jokes, made up names, etc. He was most humorous when he wasn't really trying! ;)


Mom and Dad

He was a moral man and loved his family dearly and was "in love" with his wife, my mom with his whole heart and soul all the days of their life!


Mom and Dad

He loved God and had a great deal of wisdom (although I didn't always see it as wisdom until I matured a bit). He was one of my biggest cheerleaders in life; my mom was the other.



Yes, he was tough; he was strong and his "love language" was one of works mostly. I suppose I don't have as many soft and sugary moments to tell about my dad as I do about my mom. She was the soft place to land - he was our protector and defender...a place of security, with a sensitive heart hidden just beneath the surface.  He had layers...depth!

Despite the fact that my dad is now home with his heavenly father, I still miss him! But...someday, I'll arrive home and he will be waiting by the door for me...

Daddy's kiss

He will pick me up and give me a big kiss on the cheek.  I will feel the security of the moment and the joy of being re-united with my dad. 


At his memorial, the pastor said "I believe Jim is tending to the most beautiful garden he's ever laid eyes on right now, and I also believe that if Jim could tell you one thing, he'd say....'you've got to come here'!!!" 

YES...I believe it too!                        



I wrote this poem after he had major heart surgery...his life was saved...


He Cried

He was a strong man,                      

Never shed a tear,                         
Solid as a rock
Carried no fear...

He was a tough guy,
A hard working man,
Showed his love by the work of his hands...
Not a man of flowery words,
Nor of many words at all,
But as far as I was concerned,
He was ten feet tall!


I was sure he could carry the world on his shoulders,
Sometimes I think he even tried,
Never a doubt in my mind,
That because of this strong man,
Life would be just fine...


Every day after work, I’d greet him at the door,
He’d pick me up and kiss me on the cheek,
There was nothing in the world I wanted more,
Than this moment of the day – so sweet.


Years later…
One day after work…
He laid down to rest,
He said he felt a “funny” pain - deep inside his chest...
We knew this was bad when he didn’t fight,
And the ambulance rushed him off that night.

His heart was opened by that surgery,
And then it began to melt,
With words of kindness and expressions of love,
He finally told us how he felt!

The feisty fighter had a soft side,
He showed that side to mom and me,
In a three way hug that lasted a long time,
And his tear filled words “I love my family”!

Feelings trapped inside began to flow,
In words now, not just deeds,
The size of his heart began to grow,
His spirit was set free!


I’m grateful for the tears and expressions we shared,
They mean more than one could know,
I always knew how much he cared,
But I’m glad he found the words to show.


He was a strong man
And he made it clear,
That a strong man’s
Not afraid to shed a tear...


He was a strong man
With a gentle side,
The gift he gave me etched precious in my mind...

Was the day my daddy cried.


(written by Lorraine Brown/ copyright 2007)

H A P P Y   F A T H E R' S   DAY!

"Be kind to thy father, for when thou wert young, Who loved thee so fondly as he? He caught the first accents that fell from thy tongue, And joined in thy innocent glee." -- Margaret Courtney ..

The Invisible Fence

After encouraging my short legged, exploratory wiener dog to “walk Abby walk”; “run Abby run”…she finally decides a little exercise wouldn’t hurt and develops her sensory overload sniffing excursion into a mild jog, allowing me to get in a steady walk  (although not brisk)!


We turn the corner and approach the house of a familiar dog who barks incessantly each time we pass by…her squeals would make anyone think she was injured and in pain! She beckons to us as her little heart desires to run freely for a moment of much needed attention - but her memory tells her that if she steps over that boundary of the dreaded invisible fence, she will experience a shock which she would rather not feel.

Her agonizing cries of longing continue as we pass her by (all the time, I talk to her…”it’s o.k. baby – we wish could come and play with you too! It’s o.k.”)






Her excitement suddenly turns to calm as some familiar scent calls out to her and she wanders over to sniff the grounds, still within the parameters of her confines.


I glance back over my shoulder to see that she sits quietly now, resigned to the life she’s destined to on her side of the invisible boundary.

My mind starts connecting the dots to those moments of my own resignations throughout life; when I’ve placed an invisible fence around my heart.


How often do we succumb to resignation when something in the back of our minds (“could it be…satan?”) says... “this is it -- life stinks --  there is no reason to try -- why bother -- just go back to your comfort zone where it’s safe -- the world doesn’t really need your input", etc!  

Yet doesn’t it make your heart feel like yelping - -

 “NO, there IS much more life to be experienced beyond this invisible fence”!!! 

If only I could step out side of the comfort zone and grab hold of the freedom which is waiting there... It feels so close, yet so far…

If I try, I might fail - but if I don’t try, I’ll never know! What would be worse?  Then the fear of being shocked and hurt again keeps me locked inside my boundary. I settle into a familiar place where I know I won’t be harmed….RESIGNATION!


Webster says: “Resignation: act of quitting or giving up. The feeling that something unpleasant is going to happen and cannot be changed."
“We accepted the news with resignation."  "A sigh of resignation.”


I define it as a lack of desire; or a desire stifled by a voice (a voice warring to steal our hearts from God) which daunts:

“You can’t!

You never will!

You’re not good enough!" 

But….Guess what?!  
  
                  

T h e   v o i c e   i s   a   L i e !

Do not sigh…
Rise up from your slumber and try!
You were created for a special glory,
Keep your head up high!


There is a place for you…
No-one else can fill,
A place of belonging - within God’s will,
To do…
What He created you to do…
A place that sets you free,
To be...
What He created you to be!

So don't resign...
Get up and live!
You’ve been designed…
With a gift to give!

Don’t doubt…believe!

Don’t sit…retrieve!

The fence is invisible,
It can’t keep you bound…

The lie is inadmissible

There is glory to be found…
Grab hold -- of Him -- and live!

(written by Lorraine Brown, copyright 2011)

                                                

Remembering Freedom

N   E   V   E   R       F   O   R   G   E   T !



^"Greater love hath no man than this,

that a man lay down his life for his friends." 

(John 15:13)



Stars shine and stripes remind

The stars shine bright...

In the darkness of a foxhole,    

                                                        

Or in the glow of celebratory light…

By the fireworks we ignite.

Some forget just what happened

in the dead of night,

As the stripes remind us of their wounds,

And blood shed for freedom’s sake,

Today, as well as yesterday…

Make no mistake

Of the sacrifice they make,

While children play,

And music serenades,

As the marching band

Leads our parade...

Let us not forget,

Let us not delay,

Our gratitude to those

Whose coffins lay...

Draped in our flag while taps play.

Let's not hesitate to give thanks

And to celebrate...

The freedoms won by our strong and brave

Of every race and every age...

May we never forget the sacrifice they made.

We salute them now...as we bow

Our heads for grace,

And we take our place...

At the bountiful table

Preserved for us by a remembered face...

No greater love for freedom's sake!

(written by Lorraine Brown/copyright 06/28/10)

Giving thanks this Memorial Day

 for all those who have served

and sacrificed! 

G o d   B l e s s   A m e r i c a! 

and because of our freedom, we can enjoy the simple pleasures in life...

something as simple as a slice of

                                                               Patriotic Pie 

                                                                                               (click for recipe)



Her Hands

My mom had a recipe book

she had written (by hand)...









A collection of her favorite recipes which she intended for me to have. Over the years, it disappeared…perhaps during one of our moves. I looked tirelessly for it, hoping it would pop up, but it didn’t.

Recently, I was telling my cousin, Diane about it and she mentioned that my mother had sent her a few hand written recipes.  She said still had them and said that she was going to photocopy them and mail me the originals. A couple of days later, they arrived... I was extremely touched by the thoughtfulness and love of my dear cousin...




Cousin Diane's note to me


As I opened the envelope, I sat with tear-filled eyes, holding my mother’s recipe cards in my hands, and feeling like a part of her was still with me. 

I held the paper she held

I studied the crafting of each letter in her penmanship…in the way she swirled her capital L; the way she blended the letters together in an artistic script, unique to her as she formed each word with pen on paper, in an articulate manner…such that when I read her words, I can hear her voice…the cadence in which she spoke; the tone; the softness; the upbeat and joyful spirit in which she communicated; the humor she interjected. I can see her smile when I read her sassy; witty side notes which bring back the memory of that sparkle in her eyes …that little sense of mischief…playfulness that she never failed to entertain us with.



Mom's comments on the back of one of her recipe cards!

(As you can see below, she "no likie" sage...

and apparently, I was one of the 5 little piggies)  :) ...

There is a little spot of something here at the top of the card...

it looks like a drop of an ingredient or a little bit of gravy…

The smudge just confirms that this recipe was used and enjoyed throughout the years…and passed along now to me and to others.

 Oh, how I wish I could smell the gravy on this note!

My heart is warmed by the thought of times spent in the kitchen together while I measured ingredients and placed them side by side for my mom to incorporate into her wonderful creations. I can see her stirring, whipping, rolling dough, forming meatballs, sautéing onions and garlic for spaghetti sauce, placing roasts in the oven, removing the stew meat from the pressure cooker, frying bacon and eggs and measuring coffee into her percolator.  I recall the comforting mornings of waking up smelling the wonderful aroma of that coffee and oh, yes, the bacon sizzling and wafting throughout house, waking me from my morning slumber…......no alarm clock needed! 

These notes... 

represent even more depth of meaning to me because toward the end of my mother's life, a stroke robbed her of her words…she could no longer speak, but she would smile and clap her hands every time I went to visit…a huge blessing that she always recognized me!  She would light up when I entered the room, wiggling her toes, clapping her hands and smiling and laughing , her entire body filled with excitement!

I’m reminded by her written word of how full of life she was….and I have tangible pieces of conversations here to hold in my hands; to press to my heart; to cherish…

and to taste

as I savor each morsel of her recipes…

for food…and for life!

In her words ...  

;) 

Her hands…

Held me tenderly the moment I arrived,                                                      

Nourished me and nurtured me,

 

As she welcomed me to life…

Her hands…

Bathed; clothed and fed me;

Held my little hand and led me;

Taught me how to write….

Turned the pages of the books she read to me each night,

Folded as she prayed

And clapped for my school plays;                   

Her hands…

Like magic, turned patterns into clothes

And knitted slipper socks;

They softly styled waves into my curly locks,

Felt my forehead for a fever and rubbed Vick's onto my chest,

And wiped my nose and held me close and softly caressed….

When I skinned a knee,

They bandaged me

And carried me back home,

                                     

And never left my side…

I never felt alone;

Her hands

Cooked my favorite foods,                 

And baked my favorite pies,

And when I was hurt or sad

 

They wiped the tears from my eyes;

Her hands drew pretty pictures,

In fact they crafted art,

And they touched me with a mother’s love

As they held this child's heart!

                                                              

Now I look down at my hands

And I'm amazed to see...

Her hands

Seem to have re-appeared,

As they live on....

In me!   

(written by Lorraine Brown, copyright 2011)                                                 

H A P P Y   M O T H E R' S   DAY!

Other Poems of Remembrance

You May Also Like:                 A Tribute To Mom          Looking Back At Me

 The legacy she leaves behind,

Is one of kindness and delight,

She loved the life she lived,

And she lived it right!

So when I see a shadow,

Dancing in the wind,

I remember momma's spirit,

And the joyful life she lived!

(excerpt from "Annie's Shadow"; written by Lorraine Brown)

MUSIC IN THE AIR

I was so inspired today by my friend Janette's post that I wanted to share it with you.

She shared a link to a music project around the world where pianos are on display, adorned with artwork and placed randomly throughout cities and countries...

calling people to sit and play...

the project name:

 "PLAY ME I'M YOURS!"

You will find Janette's link just below my poem...along with the link to "Play Me I'm Yours"

She had commented to me that she wished I could have been there to enjoy the creativity of this wonderful music project and perhaps I would have been moved to write a poem about it. 

Janette...the images of your family playing the pianos all over the city, and photos of others around the world were beautiful. 

I could imagine the music reaching toward heaven from every corner of the earth...giving praise!  You inspired me to write this poem!  ...

Music In The Air                    
(written by Lorraine Brown copyright 2011)

A melody like a gentle breeze

Whispering softly in my ear

I hear…

The magic of the keys

A distant sound of harmony…

But where?


A sudden change of plans this day,

My steps are turned a different way…

On a quest to find the music in the air;

Running toward the tempo 

The crescendo leads me there…


Then I see…

In parks and markets,

On bridges and ferries,

Roadsides and city streets,

Pianos adorned and calling my name,

Come play the ivories... come play!


Like sounds of heaven on earth,

In concert

The world unified,

Reaching out, reaching up, far and wide!


Let creation resonate

In harmony with God...

Sing in praise to heaven with your gifts,

Reach the world with the beauty from your fingertips!


Song in motion rings

Every nation sings

Echoing in concert  everywhere…

Sharing in the splendor of

THE MUSIC IN THE AIR!

- - - - -

I hope you have a minute to view Janette's post and be inspired to use your own creative gifts!
http://janettessage.blogspot.com/2011/04/we-were-part-of-history.html

"Play Me I'm Yours in New York was described by the press as the latest major artwork since The Gates by Christo and Jeanne-Claude and The Waterfalls by Olafur Eliasson." 
http://www.streetpianos.com/

LOOKING BACK AT ME

April is National Poetry Month

 

 Not only was it a thrill to hear that my poem,

"Looking Back at Me"

was awarded first place in the Highland Park poetry challenge, but also to hear that during the month of April, it would be displayed in the storefront of a

super cool new boutique...

"So Shee"

Last friday, April fool's day, I was invited to join the other winners in reading my poem for the poetry reading group. After confirming that this was not an April fool's joke, I humbly accepted the honor and privately danced like nobody could see! 


We then had an open mic in which all participants could share up to six of their poems with the crowd.  Jennifer Dotson organizes this wonderful group of poets. She is an award winning poet and an amazingly talented writer.  It has been an honor and a delight to get to know her as well as the other accomplished writers! 

Here I am with Michelle Burden 

in front of her fabulous boutique,
So Shee 

And here is my poem

displayed in Michelle's storefront...

There was even greater meaning to this entire experience,

as this poem was inspired by an actual conversation I had with my brother. After we said goodbye, I immediately sat down and wrote this poem.

When I saw "Looking Back At Me" in Michelle's window, there was just enough of a reflection from the sun to cause quite a bit of interference with the photos....but,

 the reflection was a gift ...

because at that moment, I stood reading my poem

 with my own reflection looking back at me...

and once again I saw my mom!

 

I thought about the impact that my parents made on my brother and I and I quietly said,

mom...dad...this is for you!

I was blessed big time!!!

May we all reflect on the memories we hold dear and cherish the many ways they speak to our deepest hearts!

Happy National Poetry Month!