Inheritance

She left him money, not much
but enough
to get something special
from her to him

First he split the money
with his wife.
He knew she loved
his mom, too,
and because
that‘s the way he was.

He took the rest
and purchased
an overstuffed
leather recliner.

Why?
Why a recliner I asked him.
His reply?

Every time I sit,
I’ll feel her arms
around me
as if she were a huge
old stuffed recliner
bringing me comfort
after a rough day.

Love Story

I can’t speak of love and be believable.

It’s all bells and confetti and “he’s the one!”

I saw him kneeling in an aisle at a discount store.

He looked up,our eyes met, and something
inside my head said, this is the man
I’m going to marry.  He was the first man

I couldn’t get enough of…his face, his eyes,

his voice, his body, his spirit.  He opened me
to love and it was everywhere. My life
became a wonder, an adventure.

He made me feel like an eagle soaring

instead of the broken bird I thought I was. 
He lifted me up to a place where I take hold
of every minute and squeeze. 

For forty-three years I have soared and he

is always amazed at me.  Even the days
that are sad or troubled
leave me with a soft landing in his arms.
No you won’t believe
my story of love for I can’t believe it myself.

Life is a Treat

 

The best time of the day
is when he comes home.

He’s big and sees me
as soon as he comes in the door.
We play the game where he
chases me down and rubs
my belly. Then he says, “whose the
best dog in the whole wide world?”
as he lifts me high in the air.
I don't have to do anything 
he answers his own question.
“YOU are” he says, and pets me
some more. Then the best part. 

He puts me down,
goes into the room where my treat is kept.
I have to sit when he says,  I can’t
go  until he says the magic word
“COME” and I do.  I run so fast and get
so excited that I get choked up sometimes.
Then I run away to my rug
so I can eat every crumb.  I only get one a day
so sometimes I go back to my rug
to see if I left a crumb. I'll wait until
tomorrow for another treat but now
I get all the belly rubs I want.

A Tropical Reflection

Light and shadows
Waves of aqua, marbled
Sun rays dazzle like VS1
Tips of white water
Ebb, then flow on
To calmer seas, never still.

Art in motion - color works
Palm tree background
Floating but going nowhere
And you
By my side. No matter how

We morph or glide
In pools of saltwater
Or fresh
As long as you are close by

In reflection,
Never mind where the tide
Carries us or what the world

Makes of the reflection.

Hold On

 

Big jolt,

love from the start
I wrote.

Key note

strong arms,  good heart
I float.

Devoted -

now anchor , a part,
over coat.

When He's Gone

When he’s gone there will be a hole

in the universe where he
walked and talked, gave of himself
in ways that won't be realized
until he’s gone.

Opportunity

I’m thankful for the opportunity

to say this one more time
you are the bright spot in my life.
Every day, every moment,
even when I don’t say it
or you don’t feel it,
even when I don’t feel it.

You are the number one peak,

the one I look forward to ,
the man I want to spend
another forty years with.
I’m thankful for the opportunity
of saying I love you
one more time,
then again

and again.

Celebrate Good Times

Some celebrations reach so far into heart
And pit of stomach...so deep inside, we can’t call it.
I wait for more than four hours, not long on many days
but taxing when I'm waiting for an all clear
from the oncologist who has our future in his hands.

I know the signs now; wait for them with trembling knees.

If doctor comes to the side chair to talk to me, it’s good news.
If Pearl, his assistent,  tells me to come to the room in the back
where doctor waits, I know its bad news; terrible news.

Dr. Dhalaki walks into my vision, mask hanging like a necklace

around his neck. A small, serious man whose brow is always
furrowed. He never gives away an answer in his expressions.
Then he takes the turn, his head buried in some kind of report,
sits down in the chair by the side of the front desk.

We make eye contact and the tears well up, he’s OK,

my husband is OK for another three months.  No cancer.
All this before the Doctor opens his mouth.  He shows
me photos of Bill’s bladder and prostate so I’ll understand
I don’t need the photos.  I have all the information I need.

I want to see my husband so we can celebrate life anew.

Fortress

A fortress against most storms,

strength like that of a hulk, you hunk!

Love of the Romeo,  I believe you’d die for me.

Sunshine that peeps through a dark cloud.

A fortress like Neuschwanstein Castle, part fairy tale,

the rest my magnificent reality.

Thankful

I remember waking up
In a hotel near Clearwater Beach
My new husband lying beside me
How it felt to watch him sleep.

I remember wondering

If this dream would be forever
For even at a wise twenty-two
I knew fairytales could end.

I remember how it felt

To feel blessed each moment, each day
Not take anything for granted
To be happy we love each other now.

I remember forty-one May 2^nd’s
How it felt to be loved by him
How it felt to love him more each year
how the bond grew more solid, more sure.

I remember now as we reach May 2^nd
That this man is still my superman
That my life wouldn’t be what it is
I’m so thankful for this man in my life.

Evening Goes

I relax into the evening
The hamburger is browning
Smells of tomato sauce bubbly.
All is ready, I sit at the computer
To tap out a few more lines, thoughts.
Lexi starts to bark, jumping around like
An aerialist, she runs to me, then charges
For the door. He’s home she seems to say.

A kiss and hug for me, a treat for the bouncing dog

A hope from me that he’ll settle, be calm,
But no, we have to go.  He thinks we should go
To Sam’s or to the mall, just walk around, grab
Dinner.  I cooked, he says, let’s save it for tomorrow.
I have work to do here, it can wait.  Come be with me.
I was hoping for a bath, TV, some writing before bed.
He was hoping for a ride, a walk, see sights, do things.
He’s a go, go, go guy, I know that.  It’s hard when
I’m a sit, sit, and sit kind of girl.  Work to be done here.

I go.  Be with him most times.  That’s the important choice.

To be with him, tomorrow we’ll eat spaghetti and watch TV.
Tomorrow I’ll get some writing done and finish the painting.
Tonight we’ll hold hands in Wal-Mart and laugh because
Someone said something funny at work.  He likes it when
We are out and I’m not working either. 

Best Ever

He decided he’d go with me to the mall

after we had breakfast at his favorite spot.

The back-ups that lead to the Bucs stadium

went for miles.  We forgot about that.

We sang old songs and poked along.

At  the mall we parked in the overflow lot,

walked around holding hands and sharing soda.

Saw Santa Claus in his ice palace, heard the squeals

from children, grumbles from adults that it's too soon.

Such a magical time, the times I spend with Bill.

Kind Healer

The doctor’s hand touches

my husband’s arm, my hand

as he tells us its cancer, quickly

tells us the way we will do

battle, irradiate the enemy,

keep close eye on rebirth.

He’ll slice away every cell of tumors,

then singe in  the fires of a laser. 

We - keep our appointments,

pray, and don’t give up hope. 

A Day to Forget

Eleven, Eleven, Eleven

at eleven:eleven a.m.

A day I won’t repeat

in my lifetime.

Only look back on,

remember where I was.

I was beside my husband

while he slept, checking

for fever or any change,

wondering if I’d notice

something important,

something that went awry.

This day has become

a day I want to forget.

The day after his surgery.

The day we heard cancer

applied to our life.

The Stage

Cancer or not?

It's cancer.

We are in the club,

I hope the name

is Cancer Survivors.

Tomorrow, surgery,

then what? Find out

what stage? Stage sounds.

like a performance.

I need to be on that stage

brave and true for him.

Where do I get that kind

of strength ?  From no

where I've been before.

He because he has it,

me because I love him.

His Point of View

Following is my poem for PAD that is from another person's view point.  I chose my husband's thoughts while we waited for him to be wheeled off for surgery.  I know these were his thoughts because he expressed them to me.

Today is my birthday.

I had plans for celebration

but instead I lay in this hospital bed
hooked up to beeping machines.
I place my hand over my wife’s
As she stands by my bed.

She stands on that side of the rail

and I’m lying here, she can’t understand. 
This really is a journey each of us takes alone.

I am afraid but I’m a man. I can’t show it,

can’t be the one to crumble under the weight
of the C word and worry what they will cut out.

The anesthecist gives me a shot of courage. I guess

I didn’t carry off the brave act well enough.  We
are going, moving to the operating room.  I love you
Honey.  Did I tell her everything I wanted to?

That she is the best thing that ever happened to me
and if I died today, it would be OK because it’s been
better than I ever dreamed.  Not to worry about me.
That I’ll be with my son if I am not here with her. 

Yes, I know I did.  Nothing left to say, so I’ll sing.

Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to..

Black or White

Tell me my husband is OK.
I don’t understand all this doc talk
Say yes, he has cancer, or no.

The vagaries of the disease

I’ll learn when I can comprehend

Does he or doesn’t he?

I’m It

I wrote this small stone while in the hospital waiting the outcome of Bill's surgery. The fear that I had and that I saw in his eyes made me realize it was my turn to be strong; I was it!
A small stone is one little stone out of a river bank, not the whole river. I sure had a river's worth in me this week! 

I’ve never had to be the strong one
Not for forty years, not once
We’ve been devastated and down
Depressed and damaged together once
But I’ve never had to be the strong one
Not until now.

Family

(This is my small stone for November 4.  I almost titled it Family Stone. I think the name is taken though. LOL)

We talk over gift  bag, Elvis,

all blue suede shoes.  Food comes all
fettucini and tortellini ,waiter Patrick not Pat
sweaty, flustered in his delivery. We make him laugh,
drink a toast to birthday uomo bello Bill.

Broken

He’s my hero from the day I met him

He’s muscular, tall, and brave.

He’s made a career and then a business

He works hard for all those he loves.

He has a good heart, he loves God and

earth’s people.  His net reaches wide and high.

He’s a giant among men of morals, he’s

true, loving and kind.

But he’s also a broken being.  He’s saddled

with a horrific loss.  His son died in his prime.

He sits at the gravesite and weeps. It’s been

eleven years now, but he grieves for his only son.