The birds serenaded Blue and I on our early morning walk. Thankfully the pouring rain from earlier had stopped, though we’d have walked anyway. Enjoying breakfast now and some quiet time before the boys wake up. I love being their mom. My oldest son gave me my Mother’s Day gift early by going to the Good Friday artist reception and service in April. My younger son wrote me a poem that I’m not supposed to know about, but I saw the rough draft on accident while looking for his weekly report. Since he was out sick three days last week his awesome teacher sent it home with Friday’s homework with a post-it, “For Andrew’s Eyes Only :-)” I didn’t peek! Hope everyone I know has a blessed day filled with abundant love that overflows. Hug each other close. I had no idea how much my parents loved me until I became a mom. I get it now. Love that knows no bounds.
May 10, 2015
Sitting on my parents’ back porch. Bird song began hours ago. Fancier birds than sing at home. Peaceful and calm.
June 1, 2014
I am sitting on the ledge.
Hoping, for anybody to come save me.
But they didn’t.
They never came.
Instead, they waited for me to jump.
PoorGirlRichWoman.tumblr.com (via poorgirlrichwoman)
That is when you decide you just needed some quiet time and a bird’s eye view to give you a new perspective. Things aren’t as dire and dark as they momentarily appeared. You already have the courage, strength and stamina to save yourself. You are brave and strong. There is a beacon of hope within that nothing can snuff out. It is time to begin again, soaring like an eagle. You discover you prefer this sky high view, closer to the clouds. Birds of a feather flock together. I’ll meet you in the air. *chirp*
Suicide is never the answer. You don’t get to choose your last day. Only God knows when it will be. You have today. Life is a gift. LIVE IT. You are never all alone. The God of the Universe is always as close as a prayer. He is available 24/7. Talk to Him if you can’t bring yourself to phone a friend. Please. I beg you.
January 19, 2014
don’t mind me
one more skyscape
from this morning
because I can’t help myself
my stomach is growling
the sky keeps changing
just now receding
bright blue sky
with puffy white clouds
today I think
is for painting
all is well
P.S. Blue stopped getting up at the sound of the sliding door unlocking. Dog realized he’s staying inside right now so he went back to zzzz’ing on the love seat. Me?! I’m still doorjamb leaning. Children still sleeping. They need it. They were wound up, laughing, rambunctious Wild Things last night, and we all loved it! Sleep is much needed. So is quiet time, spent watching the rising sun. Today is good. Typed while those white puffy clouds drift off into the distance leaving me with a humongous patch of bright blue sky straight ahead. Soul Balm. All of it. Peaceful and calm. “Island Mellow,” I call it. Much better.
January 19, 2014
7:43am on Sunday morning
Teenage boy was up and at ‘em early today. We enjoyed sharing morning quiet time. Visiting. Breakfasting without a rush.
I went in to wake up ATB at 7:09am and said, “Last day of school before Christmas Vacation.” I sort of sing-songed it. I picked up his glasses to clean ‘em, from where they were sitting on the nightstand beside his bed. Sweet boy rolled over, while rubbing his eyes awake, and calmly said, “Mom, there are already coke bottles going off inside me.” Even after drinking my morning coffee I still had to ask, “Coke bottles?” My ten year old boy replied, “Mentos. Diet coke. Get it?!” Oh, yes. I so do. Christmastime is for children and grown ups who don’t really wanna be “adults” at all. Christmas is magic, excitement and lots of happy energy about to combust. It’s a feeling that, if you’re lucky, always stays with you. Joy that bubbles up from deep inside.
My first conversation of the morning was with a teacher on the sidewalk. It was sometime before 6am, maybe before 5am. I’m not sure of the time exactly. “Early” covers it completely. I was walking with my Blue dog. We were sort of lollygagging along. She had Blue’s best buddy, Jake, who was dancing at the end of his leash. We visited like the neighbors and friends we are, as the dogs romped and played. I said, “I’m praying for ALL the teachers today.” We shared a smile under the streetlights glow.
Now I know the fifth grade boy description of what it feels like: Every child has coke bottles inside them, you know, like mentos and diet coke. (I’m being sort of a grown up and resisting adding the “Duh.”)
I treated my younger boy a little bit today, by offering to drive him, instead of waiting in the drizzling rain to ride the bus per usual. He needed a little less rush too. By 8:40am both my sons were delivered safely to school.
Their days will go by fast. Mine will too. For this quiet moment though, while I catch my breath and plan, Blue is curled up next to me, each of us on our favorite halves of the family room love seat. I need to make a mega list and wrap up the remaining Christmas To Do. Best of all, I’ll be smiling about coke bottles while I do. Oh, how I love them, and rejoice in the gift of my two sons. Christmas time is about the birth of God’s Son. Long ago. In a land afar. Angels first foretold, then announced his birth. Shepherds followed a star. Wise men began the journey to meet him. Baby Jesus. Born of a virgin. Joseph the carpenter was there, beside the manger. His mother, Mary, pondered all these things in her heart. I’ve always loved that quiet little verse, nestled in Luke 2. I’m a heart ponderer too. Everything changes in a moment. My phone rang, Blue jumped down and front window wild woofed, only to return again to curl beside me, as I work to wrap this up. My heart squeezes, my eyes leak. Tears of joy and the ring of laughter intertwines with the ache of grief. Life goes on. Christmas is coming, whether I’m “ready” or not. I’ll be ready, well, ready enough. Joy. Peace. Hope. Love. Blessings. Thankfulness. The Gift of God’s Son. Christmastime. Like coke bottles going off inside. That covers all the important stuff.
December 20, 2013
Luke 2:19 “But Mary kept all these things, and pondered them in her heart.”
I’m sittin’ in a sunbeam
listenin’ to the clock tick tock
my children are Spring Break snoozin’
that big sweet pup went back to bed
bits o’birdsong drift in through the outside walls
breakfast, coffee, things To Do
yet I’m curled into a corner of the love seat
my favorite cozy couch spot
I’m sitting in a sunbeam
so thankful a new day has begun
March 27, 2013
dog’s been out
still full dark out
barely five a.m.
the day has begun
must be Monday
or any other day
at my house
now for a smidge
of quiet time
before the rest
of my family
the chimes chime
the clock ticks
and my keys tap
this is not how I wanted today to start
with a headache threatening at my temples upon waking
and you throwing my words from yesterday back at me
yes I do need quiet time
so I can handle the noise and commotion
but I need you too
I thought the walls came down
in the storm of emotion
a few weeks ago
but they are going back up
because the wounds are deep
on both sides
no wonder my head hurts
© Turquoise Tangles
I think I woke up too early, and am still a little fuzzy, and that I missed my window to go back to bed because my oldest son just woke up and turned on the TV and there went my Quiet Time and the day has officially begun as the sky brightens outside my window.
It it better to be followed, or be a follower?
How does one have time to do both?
Read AND write?
Part of me feels like I need to get all the other voices out of my head and just write.
Sing my own song.
Even if it is a little off key.
Even if no one wants to read it.
The other part feels like by reading the work of others, I am inspired and nudged and prodded to keep going, and say what needs to be said and tell the stories inside me.
That the two go together.
Which is different from osmosis.
Mostly, I think I woke up too early, and am still a little fuzzy, and that I missed my window to go back to bed because my oldest son just woke up and turned on the TV and there went my Quiet Time and the day has officially begun as the sky brightens outside my window.
© Turquoise Tangles