Wishes for Grandson


A breath, a cry, a baby yawn, you’ve made your presence known.  Newly bathed and swaddled in gauze, your mother cradles you to her breast where two hearts beat as one.

For my first grandson, I have wishes for you.  More than three, less than a million.  If I was near a fountain of gurgling water splashing into a pool of clear, I’d toss loose coins while wishing silently.  Instead, I will write them here for you to read one day.  A day not so far away when you grow from wee into a little lad.

Before you even arrived, I prayed to God above for all your life ahead.  And, as I slept the first night after, I dreamed of all I wished for you.  As you grow from infant to tadpole to toddler to teen, close your sweet eyes to imagine that wishes and dreams do come true.  I give them all and more to you.

While you are a baby I wish for you to nestle with Mommy, reach for your sister’s face of innocence and Rock-a-Bye with Daddy.  Choose your favorite blanket, roll on your belly, scoot on the floor, learn to crawl, and 1-2-3 please smile for me.

I wish for you to play with wooden blocks, build a tower, knock it down, eat green peas, spit them out, take first steps and pull my hair.  Catch a big red ball, say a word, and play in snow with Daddy who loves you so.

Before we can say magic words, babyhood is gone for good.  A little boy you now will be.  We will miss the small.  Soooo, B-I-G!  How lucky is your family?

I wish for you to hold a puppy’s leash while jumping in puddles of mud when the rain smells good.   Splash, splash, splash.  Now, close your eyes to soak warm sunshine like an ocean sponge.  Do you feel it on your sleepy face?  Toasty, like Mommy’s kitchen after baking cinnamon rolls.  Can you smell them if you sniff, sniff, sniff?

Oh yes, I wish for you to sleep in a tent  or catch a frog while listening to crickets chirping loud in the quiet of the night.  Soon it rains a melody of drops on dark green canvas for you to hear.  Plop…plop…plop.

I hope you’ll see a Mama bird build her nest  and feel a roly-poly bug crawling in your hand right up your wrist.  Not to worry.  It won’t hurt, only tickle.  Lots of itty-bitty legs…can you guess how many?  Grandpa says, “14!”   Soon I laugh at chocolate rings round your mouth from milk found in a cup at Grandma’s house!

I wish for you to win a race, build a back yard fort and watch firefly’s glow yellow in the black of night.  Skip a rope, jump a hoop, swing a bat, and hit a ball.  There it goes…..Look, squint your eyes to see.  Flying like a rocket ship…see?  A home run to be!  Listen closely now, do you hear the cheering crowd?

Please, pick up squiggly worms for me.  Ride a bike, get dusty dirty, fly a kite, and skip a rock.  Swim in lakes, underneath are minnows skimming crystal sand in waters of Windex blue.

Yes, Hudson, I wish for you to bottle up bullies with a cork.  If words should sting, please tell Mommy or Daddy.  You will see that bad words do not help…only hurt.  Rise above them. Remember this, be the best that you can be.

When old enough to fall in love, kiss the girl you will marry one day.  Please love her with all of your heart.  Look to Mommy and Daddy to see how good it can be.  Respect the ‘She’ you love someday.  Any part of your heart you give away will come right back to you….only bigger and better!  Do you feel it growing inside of you?  Be patient and you will see.

The greatest wish is that you live a long life of prayer, good health and forever happiness.  For if this last big wish comes true for you, chances are all others will too!

Above all else, be your father’s pride, your mother’s love and your sister’s shining knight.

 

A Beautiful Bundle of ‘Baby-Blue’


My first grandson was born on Sunday, April 27th at 4:34 am, weighing in at 7 pounds, 9 ounces and measuring 21 inches in length.

Congratulations to my eldest son, Jayson together with his dear wife, Nichole on the birth of their first son.  Their daughter, ‘Gracie-Girl’ is now a big sister at the tender age of two!

Thank you, God, for this blessed gift of a healthy baby boy.  What pure  joy this little ‘angel’ will surely add to our family from this day forward….forevermore.

Let the games begin…………

Morning Tree


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Early shadows dancing on buff colored siding,

God’s gift of nature balances on branches….hiding.

A chirp, a tweet, a song to sing,

Do not stop or feathered wings will soar into skies of azure.

Look closely now to see a tiny rooftop home swing from side to side

On a flowered arm, tempting me…..

Suddenly all is clear, I can’t resist

Hopping up to peek inside the ‘O.’

Ahhh…..baited breath beholds

A tiny toasted nest in a bosom of infinite blackness.

Speckled sparrow eggs…1-2-3-4,

Warming in my Morning Tree.

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…Authors, when yeez need a wee flame to re-ignite yer soul, try this music… #TBSU…


Beautiful music and video. Okay, I’m Scottish, but I’d share it with you no matter what! 🙂

Seumas Gallacher

…this ol’ Jurassic tries to live by a credo of having only two kinds of day… ‘good’ days and ‘better’ days… and on these intervals when they are merely ‘good’ days, a wee dip into my past life fifty years ago as an apprentice banker in the glorious Isle of Mull in the Scottish Hebrides never fails to render it into a ‘better’ day… only those who’ve lived amongst a community such as those in the Highlands of Scotland will get close to understanding the ties of the heart that bind yeez forever to a place… my early years were formulated in Docklands Govan in Glasgow, also populated with some of the salt of the earth, people who usually had little in the way of tangible things to give, but offered freely of their kindness to others… but a special kinship belongs to the smaller village-style communities such as…

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A Room With the Perfect View


It’s so early and quiet here, barely the birds are chirping yet. No one moves about the house, not even my ‘Doodle’ dog. To the east, the sun is rising in painted chalk colors of corals and pinks against the blues of aqua. A pine branch brushes against my office window pane, startling me. Ooooh, I see the faint fluttering of robin wings! Suddenly, they take a flight to the right, gathering twigs of nearby trees. I’m in a room with the perfect view!

Such a sight reminded me of a long-ago spring when my children were young. They’d go off to school before I washed dishes at a green pepper sink beneath my kitchen window. To the left was a wooden door made of eight panes of glass. It led to a lovely covered patio where given the chance, I read a chapter from a cloth-covered book, sipped crushed iced tea or sneaked a nap before my children awakened me.

Hung from the ceiling, near a natural rattan chair, was a potted plant of bright red geraniums. Such a contrast the two colors were; the boring beige of the chair next to the radiant red of the beautiful, colored flowers. It looked like a picture from, Better Homes and Gardens. I used to tender the plant like another child, carefully watering it while plucking curled leaves from thriving ones, afraid they’d suck precious life away from the others.

One morning, two robins flew back and forth between the blue of the sky and my precious red geranium. They carried twigs and bits of cloth between their beaks. They were building a nest, I surmised. What was I to do? If I did not interfere, my treasured plant might die…if I did, where would future feathered babies be born?

My own motherly instincts gave in, allowing the birds to build their nest. Before long, I’d tip-toe to the nest nearly every day, where yet another egg of robin blue lay perfectly within its refuge of brown twine, twigs, and mud. Occasionally, I’d catch the mother sitting there, looking at me as if to say, “Who are YOU?” In the beginning, she flew away. In the end, she let me stay.

It wasn’t long before I heard the squealing and squawking of baby chicks from my window screen. Both mother and father robins took turns feeding their naked newborns who were barely able to lift wrinkled necks and bald heads. When not pecking for worms, Mother Bird sat on top, keeping her featherless young perfectly warm. Day after day, I grew enthralled by all of this. Yes, my plant of beautiful red geraniums was dying, but look at what I was living and learning!

The babies grew quickly with luck on my side because nature hadn’t taught them to fear me. I used to visit them, stopping by to say, “Hello,” or to tell them of my day. I even pet their soft feathers with a whisper of a tipped finger while their mother was away. Before doing so, I called the Wildlife Rescue Center who told me it was a “Myth” that birds can smell. I was bringing them no harm and careful in every way. Soon, I found myself attached to the fluffy, feathered balls. They were miracles to me, teaching me something new in ways one can never learn from a book.

Naturally, the day comes when a mother bird teaches her babies to fly, to leave the nest.  I could see them from my window. Yes, I had a room with the perfect view…plus an added tear or two. One by one, each feathered friend stepped to the perched ledge of my geranium plant. Flapping golden wings lit by the sun in winds that only God can kiss, they lifted into the air. Some fell slightly before floating back up like little beige balloons. Up, up, up into the sky.  I squinted high above against the sun to see patches of orange-red. Wistfully, I waved, “Good-bye.”

Turning to save what was left of my geranium plant, there at the edge of the ledge was a last little bird afraid to take the plunge. I couldn’t take my eyes off him, knowing in my heart that he too, must leave the nest. Off in the distance, his family called to him. They were not far, just a few feet away. It was as if they cheered him on. “Come’on, you can do it, we’re here waiting for you!” With that, the last little bird took the plunge. First down before up, until he soared off into the sky to meet his mother and father, sisters and brothers while I cried at my babies leaving the nest.

The next spring I purchased another geranium plant, hoping again that I’d have a room with the perfect view…..

Farewell Letter ~ Gabriel Garcia Marquez


The most beautiful words. Read the wisdom here, then send the letter to those near and far….

Jack Hammersley

Before he died on 17 April 2014 at the age of 87, Gabriel Garcia Marquez, Colombia’s illustrious Nobel Laureate for literature, had declared his retirement from public life. He had terminal cancer and sent this letter of farewell to friends and lovers of literature.

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If God, for a second, forgot what I have become and granted me a little bit more of life, I would use it to the best of my ability.

I wouldn’t, possibly, say everything that is in my mind, but I would be more thoughtful of all I say.

I would give merit to things not for what they are worth, but for what they mean to express.

I would sleep little, I would dream more, because I know that for every minute that we close our eyes, we waste 60 seconds of light.

I would walk while others stop; I would awake while others…

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Miracle Eggs


My family enjoyed a delightful day being together on Easter Sunday.  The sky was full of sunshine and blueness.  Breezy air felt fresh and clean, giving off warm scents of toasty baby blankets fallen from dryers, powdered with newness.  Grass was green and soft to fall upon.  Tall enough for baby bunnies to hole up under pines near plastic eggs hidden for toddlers eyes.  Soon the hunt was on for hidden treasures of rainbow-colored jelly beans, princess stickers, or jewels to wear.

The spirit of re-birth was everywhere my eyes could see.  Pale yellow daffodils looked lovely ‘hiding’ a carefully placed egg or two.  Birds flew near feeders chirping loudly for humans to move away.   Newly built homes hung on branches only the day before, had already been ‘rented’ out for the season.  Feathered heads poked out to see what the fuss was all about.

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The Most Beautiful, “Butterfly Light Award”


My very special thanks to Iliana who blogs at the enchanting White Rabbit’s Gallery, for nominating me for this most magnificent Butterfly Light Award.  Just look at it for a moment to see…  It glitters with shiny light from inside to out.  Fluttering around this land to brighten the lives of others.

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I have not forgotten you, Iliana, nor this most lovely nomination.  I thank you for it from the bottom of my heart.  It is truly the most beautiful award with a great deal of meaning behind it.  Thank you, Iliana.  You are a true Butterfly yourself, lighting the way for others, always and forever….. http://hakescafe.com/2014/04/10/butterfly-light-award/

The Rules for accepting this Beautiful Butterfly Light Award are:

  1. Link back to the nominating blogger with ‘Thanks’.  This award may not be ‘lumped’ in with any other awards.
  2. You must individually re-award one blogger to a maximum of 9999999 bloggers by letting them know though a comment, preferably on their site.
  3. Link back to the originator of the Beautiful Butterfly Award, the lovely, Belinda, http://idiotwriting.wordpress.com/2014/03/13/i-love-charismatic-geeks/
  4. You must write a short paragraph describing why, “I’m Spreading the Light” or “Why I’m a Positive Influence.”
  5. You must display Belinda’s Beautiful Butterfly Light Award, Badge on your blog.

How I’m A Positive Influence:

Humbly, it’s hard for me to say something like this.  After years of hearing it, I’ve slowly started to say the words.  “Okay, yes, I’m a positive influence on others.”  I knew nothing about chronic conditions when my boys were stricken, yet I researched everything in the hopes of making their lives better in this great big world we call our own.  Thanks to God, I’ve been able to help others.  My boys have now grown up into young men.  They are happy, successful and live their dreams one day at a time.  I try to stay positive, ready to tackle adversity whenever it strikes.  To all of you, I say, “Thank God, for your many blessings in life.  Be happy!”

 

I nominate the following for the most Beautiful Butterfly Light Award:

  1. http://unshakablehope.wordpress.com/
  2. http://5kidswdisabilities.com/