February 24, 2003 Weekly Musings

Musings:

Her Hand

Featured image: Mom's Yellow Iris

Holding her hand,
watching her sleep
I gently imprinted my
Mom’s hand
into a piece of clay.

She passed later that day.
She is always with me as I
place my hand exactly
on hers in that clay.
Today my hand fits
hers exactly.

Freckles

Featured image: Circus Lions and Acrobats

Another memory of my grandfather Emil was the story he told me about my freckles. He told me that for every good thing I did I got another freckle, and that I had so many freckles that they were running together.

I personally knew I hadn’t been that good, but I sure liked that story of his.

Cookie Duster

Featured image: Grandmother's Shawl

“Grandfather,” I asked, “Why do you have a mustache?”

Secretly, I didn’t like his mustache because it scratched when he kissed me on the cheek.

“My dear child, if I didn’t have one what would I dust off my cookies with?” I couldn’t answer that one. As I knew cookies didn’t need dusting because I didn’t have a mustache and I ate cookies all the time.

Shortly after that conversation with my grandfather I went off to camp. When I returned a month later my grandfather had passed away.

I never knew my grandparents very well, but have snatches of memories of them that have stayed with me my entire life like the cookie duster.

Memories are how we live forever, and the life cycle continues into infinity.

Rescue

Featured image: Big Pine and Chickadee

Today, pine tree covered
in snow,
Queen Tree,
sheltering many birds
in winter.
Glistens in
The sun.

We rescued that little
pine along the road,
Over 15 years ago.
We were walking home,
along a dirt road
that led home.
We stopped.
We knew,
that little pine
was doomed to be
vanished by spring.
The snowplow has no
Mercy.

So we scooped her up
with our hands and took
her home.
Planted her in our backyard.
Today she is our Queen Tree
so filled with beauty.