Sugar and Salt

Sugar and Salt.  Sweet and Sharp.  Course and White.  Both, shaken from boxes bland that have separate and distinct tastes.  I have no recipe for my tomorrow….When poured within my heart, shall I smile and laugh or cry to wipe tears away?  Both, I’d say…

I knew this day was coming.  Perhaps you’ve been wondering why I haven’t been blogging as much lately?  Well, I have a very good excuse.  You see, I’ve been playing with babies!  My youngest son recently accepted a job promotion, requiring him to relocate to South Carolina.  He’s been away from his family for most of the last few weeks.  It is for the best…. In the end, he will better his own life and that of his entire family.

His father and I are so very proud of him.  Not long ago I wrote of my worries and wishes for him in a post  Today, his whole world and all that is in it has changed, for the better.  He is a man, a husband and a loving father with three daughters, including infant twins who are now six months old.

I am the one suffering, thinking of what I will miss.  The rosy cheeks with curls on heads.  The giggles of laughter when words are said.  Playing with new toys, feeding carrots and humming lullabies.  Gazing at dreaming mouths.  Look, there’s a sleeping smile once in a while!  What’s that I hear?  Poof…puffs of warm air with each sleeping breath.  And, lashes long gently falling…falling…while cradled in the crook of my arm.

So, “Good-Bye” sweet son of mine.  I shall miss you and your family too.  Those babes will be kissed each and every day, silently from afar.  Congratulations once again.  Take care of yourself and your family too…like I know you will.

And, never forget that we are always close in heart.




Trust.  It seems inbred in the hearts and minds of little children whenever together with animals.  There is an unspoken bond of trust between them, triggered by instinct.  I take great delight in observing it, finding it nearly palpable.  Love and laughter, sharing, caring and trust.

Back in May of this year, my only grandson celebrated his first birthday during an outdoor party complete with a petting zoo.  His great-grandfather was able to join the celebration, traveling all the way from Arizona to make it extra special.  In an earlier post I wrote of the anticipation of such entitled, “Dads With Little Lambs.”  How lucky we were to have it land on a glorious spring day!  Blue skies matched the color of gemstones while a breeze gently puffed cool air through new born leaves dangling from ancient limbs of oak trees.

There was no ‘white picket fence’ surrounding baby animals that day.  Instead, children were allowed to chase chickens freely.  Chubby fingers touched new textures, repeating names of four-legged friends they had only met before in picture books or pieced together in chunky puzzle boards of primary colors.   Each child took turns petting spotted calves groaning, “M.O.O.” before skinny legs dressed in ruffles or blue jeans swung over saddles to take their very first pony rides.

Afterwards, the guest of honor was stripped naked, except for a diaper that seemed to match his new friend of black and white spots.  My grandson soon sat grinning on a huge sheet of plastic red.  It rippled and crinkled whenever he moved.  He loved the feel of it, I could tell!  Within seconds, a farm decorated Smash Cake , complete with miniature bright red barn appeared before his two enormous blue-watered eyes.  Murmurs traveled among those who sat on benches of wood behind picnic tables of green.  What would the birthday boy do?  Stick his finger to taste a treat of brown bunny frosting?  Or snatch and seize the biggest field of golden-colored corn he’d ever seen?

In the end, the big-little guy couldn’t contain himself.  He dove right in.  Head-first!  Exactly what his new animal friends had whispered silently to him minutes before.  “Go for it,” they had said, as only animal friends can do.   And so he did.


The Hourglass of Time

With Father’s Day around the corner, my mind can’t help but wander to the days of little boy ways when I chased toddlers wearing diapers while ‘puppy dog tails’ followed close behind us.  Oh, please turn back the clock for me!  I would give anything in life to have a single grain of sand stuck in that hourglass of time.  To cuddle my babies once again upon my lap, kiss their sweet-scented heads, soak folds of skin in a bubbled tub or hum sweet lullabies to velvet cheeks soft against my own.

As life went on my toddlers grew to teens, morphed into men, married and became fathers in their own right.  What a privilege to peek into early windows of their Daddy Hood.

Today, my two sons have become the very best fathers I could have ever dreamed possible!  They love their little ones…love them!  With five between the two of them, their hands are more than full, yet I’ve never heard a single complaint.  They take joy in kissing chubby fists, mixing bottles of formula, pushing strollers beneath shaded trees and tickling bare bellies into giggles.  Often, I see Daddy Reading a Book or Daddy on the Floor to Play!

The hourglass of time typically exists only in our minds.  Yet, already grains of sand are slipping away….one by one.  Falling s.l.o.w.l.y. from top to bottom.  Seconds turn into minutes of lifetimes.  In the blink of an eye, years go by.  Babies crawl upon floors before toddlers learn to walk.   Pre-school begins one day while college ends the next.  Suddenly swaddled babes are old enough to say, “I Do.”  Crowded nests of chicks are bare, hushed silent with shells of emptiness.

So, here’s to my boys on this coming Father’s Day!  For my youngest, it is his very first ever!  Enjoy every second each son of mine.  Kiss your babies from head to toe.  Hold them close to your heart forever and tomorrow.  Breathe them in to memorize their scent. Don’t ever let it go.  And, never take a single grain of sand for granted.

Happy Father’s Day.


Timeless Bonds

When I was a lass of long blonde braids, I remember being very ill.  Not sick enough to be hospitalized, but hurting enough to have lasting memories linger within the ‘child’ of me.

Bedridden in the dark of a lavender room, I cried out in pain from a double bed shared with little sisters of two. All of my body hurt, including bones and single strands of hair.

Through fitful sleep, unseen fingers changed damp cloths from warm to cool above my brow. Soft kisses fluttered against burning cheeks. Fresh cotton sheets fluffed like clouds before falling across pale bare legs while a portable fan suddenly swung back and forth to whisper relief.

Upon awakening, noises were heard from the floor below.  Pots and pans banged against a porcelain double sink.  Shrill cries of an infant drifted upward together with my mother’s soothing voice.  I remember wanting her to be with me.  In my youth I didn’t realize that she was and forever would be.

It had been my mother’s hands who changed the cloth atop my forehead….her loving arms who cooled my frame with fresh cotton fabric and the strings of her heart that plugged the old fan into the wall, bringing much needed rest to my blazing body.

How strong the bond between mother and child.  It knows no bounds and has no limits.

Not even time…