Family Puzzles

So many puzzle pieces

missing.

Not sure how many there are

or what the final picture looks like.

Which makes it hard

to complete the picture.

Which is why I call it a

Puzzle.

Puzzle

according to Merriam Webster's online dictionary.

Definition one: the state of being puzzled as in perplexity

Definition 2: something that puzzles

Definition 3: a question, problem, or contrivance designed for testing ingenuity

Bingo! Number three fits.

Missing pieces result in questions

and the problem of not knowing what is missing

or how much.

Which definitely tests

Ingenuity.

Not only is my life a puzzle,

But so is my family.

From whence i came.

Where will I go.

And how will I get there.

Are You There Yet?

Almost at the finish line,

according to the hype.

But I know better.

The finish line is nowhere in sight.

But the deadline is.

So. I guess,

the deadline is the end of the game.

In which case I will be done on time.

But not really finished.

NaNo Pep Talk

Write like a mad woman.

Write like you’re on a mission.

Just write.

Think if you want to,

But for now just type.

Write like you mean it,

Just write.

Don’t second guess

Don’t spell and grammar check

Don’t worry about storyline.

Just write.

Now is the time

For getting words

Onto a page

Just write.

Editing can come later.

Right now

All I need to do is

write.

NaNoWriMo concession speech

Getting close to the deadline,

but still far from the goal.

Not going to give up entirely.

Just going to acknowledge that I won’t make it

all the way.

Luckily, in this case

partial victory

is okay by me.

I won’t make the number,

so won’t earn the prize.

But playing the game all the way through

is what matters.

My how I have grown.

Ladies and Gentlemen

Don’t go and get a bee in your bonnet

just because someone called you

Lady.

Consider it a title,

a compliment.

By the way,

you can call me

Gentleman

any time,

missy.

Prayer

Prayer is a personal thing.

So is a relationship with God,

He or she or it.

Spiritual or mythical.

Thanksgiving with Mom

Thanksgiving

Drove for 4 ½ hours,

to sit and watch my mom sleep.

No feast.

I missed that.

Which is okay.

Instead of going for a walk

or watching football with my dad,

I’m watching the Macy’s Parade

And my Mom in her bed,

set low to the floor,

with cushions on each side.

Small bruise on her forehead,

probably from falling out of bed.

Which is why there are cushions.

Federal regulations don’t permit

bedrails for adults.

So I sit

Listen to Broadway actors sing,

Followed by the blah blah blah of the announcers.

I watch Mom.

She might be dreaming,

happy ones, I hope.

She sighs,

and calls out.

Indistinguishable sounds,

Like the ones she makes when awake.

Except softer

As if she

knows she’s asleep.

Thanksgiving 2018

Going to visit mom tomorrow,

For Thanksgiving.

Not sure she will know that’s why I’m there,

Or if it’s me.

First major holiday without her.

Even though she is physically here.

Mentally, dementia has won

The war with her brain.

The smile is there

But not sure the recognition is.

Does it matter

That we don’t know

What is going on inside her head?
Does it matter

That we don’t know

If she knows who we are?

Does it matter

That she might not know

What is going on

Or understand anything people are saying?

I guess it only matters

If I think it does.

As long as she has the will to live

It must matter to her.

Life is Funny

Life has a funny way of occasionally kicking me in the ass.

It’s like something out there in the ether

sees me and thinks,

Hey, it’s time to remind her who she is

And what a fuck up she can be,

And, oh yeah, you’re actually good at a few things,

Maybe even awesome at one or two.

Which means you average out to okay.

You’re just a mere mortal

like everyone else.

Good days

Bad days

Amazing days

Totally sucky days.

Just like most people.

Except it’s you,

so you feel like

you pay too much attention

when it doesn’t matter

and too little when it does.

Life is funny that way.

Emotional Healing?

The scars of a lifetime

of emotional ups and downs

live in my brain.

They seep into my consciousness

at the oddest times.

They seem to have a sense of when

Memories are fun

and when
Memories can hurt.

It’s almost like the scars

have a life of their own.

And a need to remind me

they are there.

Looking

Looking for the light at the end of the tunnel

Looking for a reason to not turn back.

Looking for the path of least resistance

Looking to make a new path.

Did I become my mom?

Prose tonight.

I wonder how many daughters say they don’t want to become their mother. And then one day we realize we just heard her words come out of our mouth. And we just laughed or danced the way she does. Or complained about the same thing. Or raved about something she loves just the way she does. Or looked in the mirror and saw a younger version. Or even worse, a carbon copy. It must be inevitable. At some point some part of you becomes your mother. Deal with it. Or maybe your mother became you. Maybe she just looked in the mirror or at one of your pictures and thought, I just became my daughter, And guess what, she probably won’t complain about it.  So there. Revenge of the mother. Sarcasm? Where?

Not sorry

Sorry

Not Sorry

Finally listening and speaking

Without filtering my thoughts and words

Without worrying about prejudicing someone’s feelings toward

Someone I no longer need to care about.

That boat has sailed.

And I finally lost it on the horizon.

It was a long journey.

But I am there.

It’s a place called freedom.

And I love it.

Musing about self discipline

Self Discipline:

control and motivate,

stay on track, do what is right.

WIthout someone else forcing you,

cajoling you,

controlling and motivating you.

You do it because you want to

and you care enough

to stay on track

and do what you think is right.

Write?

Right.

Snow!

Snow!
White snowflakes

Falling

Softly on my jacket.

I don’t understand

Why some people

Don’t like snow.

It can be delicate,

kiss your skin and melt.

It can be wet,

Stick to your hat, jacket, gloves,

Turn the world around you into

Sparkles.

Sure,

Too much of a good thing

Can be difficult to deal with

Or turn deadly.

But that isn’t the snow we get around here.

The snow we get

Doesn’t come often enough

And doesn’t stay long enough.

So why not enjoy the beauty

And see it for what it is,

A treat from nature.

A reason to rejoice.

An inspiration for art, music,

And maybe even love.

Snow!

Work Out time

Sometimes working out is over-rated.

Which is more relaxing for my mind and body?
Sweating for an hour?

Or making dinner,

Writing for an hour

Reading for an hour

And playing or listening to music

For as long as I want to?

Tonight,

I think the write, read, music marathon

Will win out.

Won’t help my muscle tone,

But it will help my head

And my heart will benefit in a non-aerobic way.

Working out my soul

Is sometimes more important

Than a physical workout.

That’s my story

And I’m sticking to it.

Vinyl

Somehow the music I grew up with

survived all my moves.

Coast to coast

and several places in between.

Four time zones.

Four decades and some change.

All it took

was a new turntable

to turn back the clock.

Scratching and pops,

accompany the sounds,

coming out of a Roland cube speaker

that outlived the keyboard I bought it for.

Compared to the records

the speaker is young,

A new adult.

Fitting since I’m reliving

the music that brought me into adulthood.

Is the glass half full or half empty

Maybe I really am a glass is half full

kind of person.

I know some glass is half empty people.

They’re not much fun to be around

when they’re

in a mood.

I was in a relationship with a “what glass?” person.

But I don’t have to live with that kind of darkness

Anymore.

Life Is Good #1

Looked out the window and what did I see

A security guard dumping his drink

In a planter,

Then walking into the restaurant

And refilling his cup.

I feel protected now

And full of hope.

The security guard is well hydrated.

And whatever is growing in the planter

has been watered.