Pride Comes Before the Fall

I baked two pumpkin pies for Thanksgiving dinner, and they turned out beautifully. They smelled delicious in the oven, even if I say so myself! The first pie was gone, eaten at the first dinner we went to at Jerry's side of our family. Lots of people liked my pie, and since we had another meal to attend later at my daughter's house, I thought this was working out pretty darn good, with one for each. I was basking in the compliments and really looking forward to a piece later, when I had digested some of the meal.

We stopped at home during the afternoon, and as my husband was opening the front door to take the pie to the car, it slid off the container of rolls, and proceeded to fall end over end to the floor, narrowly missing the dog, who scrambled nervously under the table to avoid the pumpkin missile that nearly exploded on her head. It seemed to happen in slow-motion, like a train wreck that can't be avoided, and you stand helplessly watching it.

And then, I began to laugh. It truly is like spilled milk, usually happening unintentionally. But, my husband was pretty upset, as we scooped up the pie from the floor with pancake turners and into the trash basket!

You can't let these things get you down! I can always make more pie. But, next time, I'll carry it. Ok, honey?

Giving Thanks

I really like the holiday of Thanksgiving, the traditions of family and good food and the chance to celebrate all the good things in life in which we are blessed.

I am thankful for my husband of 35 years, and his positive attitude toward things. I am so glad to wake up with him everyday. I am thankful to now be working with him, now that I am adjusting to being employed once again. I loved being able to work in the yard and and garden with him for most of the summer, doing what I love to do.

I am thankful we have jobs and he is doing what he loves to do. Me. I am still adjusting, but I am, indeed, thankful.

I am thankful I am the luckiest mother and grandmother in the world! I get to see them often and to see them grow up. I get to be a hands-on Grandma! I am thankful for the two new grandchildren this year - Jacob and Sawyer - and the promise of another in the coming year. I am thankful we are all pretty healthy, just the minor stuff like colds and colic.

I am thankful Dave and Amy's new home is in Palisade and they have new jobs, a new beginning for both. We are ecstatic to have Jack around, too!

I am thankful for our friends this year....we have many, old and new.

We lost our old dog this past year, so I am thankful for the 9 years he spent with us, and for the two Pound Hounds we adopted. Maggie and Sampson are our new Fur-Kids.

I am thankful two of my poems were published, totalling four to date. It is a blessing, at this time in my life.

I am thankful for all the problems we faced this year, for the fact that we faced them together, and so the load was divided and the joy was multiplied, as we waited upon God to work in his mysterious and mischievous ways. I am thankful for the chance to work on the lesson of patience and persistence, as it helped my faith to grow and to deepen. I began to learn to give thanks for all things, not just the things I pick and choose that are easy.

I am thankful my health has improved, and the back problems that I had last winter have improved. I still struggle, but I am learning to take it one day at a time.

I've had a lot of things to forgive this year. Betrayals, upheavals, disappointments and hurts. I am willing to be willing to be thankful for these things, as I give them to God and allow Him to transform them as is His will. So many times, all I could pray was for God's good will to be done. It wasn't easy, in fact, it was difficult. Each time, God would bring to mind how Jesus forgave from the cross, "Father, forgive them. They know not what they do." And I pray for the same, when I am the one in need of mercy, too.

I am thankful for second chances, for new beginnings, for each new day. I am thankful to be alive. I pray for the ability to give thanks, no matter the circumstances.

I give thanks for the increased awareness that God never deserts me. It is like a continual awakening that never ceases to give me peace.

If I'd Known Then What I Know Now

I would count each hair on your head and
memorize each nuance of light
dancing on each gossamer strand.
I would store your fresh baby smell in a
bottle for days of drought without you,
when my memory grows dim; future
faith blinded my present with you.

If I'd known then what I know now, nothing
could distract me from watching you
nestle safe in my arms close to my heart,
sweet visions skipping on your eyelids,
diamonds sparkling in morning dew and
pixie dust reserved just for you.
Order the mundane be silent - no
desire for caution this last day!

If I'd known then what I know now,
I would beg God for just a little
more time, for one last kiss on your velvety
cheek, one more lingering look, one
more breathtaking smile before you go,
long enough for my solemn promise:
this is not good-bye, my love, it is
"See you later, Sweetpea."

`February '06`

Inconceivable

How, may I ask, could I allow
my child to tread so close to the edge,
without shouting a warning?
If I should tangle
with the stabbing thorns of fear
or landslides of self-doubt --
it is my very own rock-and-a-hard-place.
If the bough should break, the cradle
shall fall, taking my heart with it.
The whir of dark thoughts
clouds my mind. I feel like
a seamstress threading
a needle in the dark.

My mother-heart must allow learning
by consequence or obedience.
How near to the edge do I tread
before the vertigo of indecision
plummets me to my own demise?
Can I save my own flesh and blood
or will I drown in an ocean of guilt,
rescue attempt gone awry?
It is inconceivable to contemplate
this endless dark night of the soul,
or your cruel muttering,
"I told you so."
How do you finally let go?