It Ain't Evangeline

I could handle anything when my kids were okay,
When my son went to his dad, I had nothing to say.
He and his daddy weren’t getting along
Was my decision to let my son go so wrong?

My daughter was now college-bound;
This decision seemed to be really sound.
With her cats, she moved to a college town apartment;
Though this wasn’t really my first-choice arrangement.

I constantly worried about her safety;
College kids didn’t seem very safe to me.
She told me to stop my motherly concern;
That she needed freedom, her own lessons to learn.

To my hometown I went, not meaning to stay,
But the man I had married pushed me away.
He closed my business; gave it to the bank;
This wasn’t something for which I gave thanks.

While waiting on results of medical tests
I stayed with a friend that loved me best.
My baby sister called me about then,
Saying she needed me to be her friend.

Another little sister called to say
That she and her baby were in harm’s way.
This sister also wanted me to make peace
With our mother, the person who loved me least.

After doing what I could to get all my “kids” safe;
I attempted to hide at my mother’s place.
My best friend forever from high school
Called to tell me that was against her rules.

She insisted that I was just the one
To get a friend of hers to join her in fun.
So, she introduced me to a single man
For whom she had marriage planned.

I went with him to a hospital dance,
Neither of us expecting a hint of romance.
A man of good humor, he seemed to me;
We made plans for the next night he was free.

We went to dinner where I grilled him
On why he never married, even on a whim.
Thus began quite a series of events,
Including a few peaceful moments.

But peace wasn’t what my life held
He knew this when, for me, he fell.
Often flying high, swinging on stars
To balance the sorrows that had left scars.

We've had more drama than a soap opera brings;
We attract broken people, pets, and things.
We are now bound forever, for good and for bad,
In the most exciting ride we've ever had.

A Moral Man

The hardest job on earth is parenthood
Because we have to be so very good
But the second toughest is being
The wife of a moral man.

Sister of My Soul

I couldn't have asked for a better present for my birthday;
My longest lasting friend came over to my house to play.
She's so busy with healing and making others happy
That we barely ever have time to be just "she and me."

She wanted to take me out, but I wasn't in the mood.
I made lunch; she always likes my way of preparing food.
We had a whole afternoon, just to ourselves;
There was much of our last few years in which to delve.

We had been separated too long, by too many miles,
Longing for the sight of each other's tears and smiles.
Like a sister, I'm a part of her and she's a part of me;
This is a bond from which we will never be truly free.

Play Days

Talk about two ends of the spectrum, from art to animals in less than a week.
One niece called me to do lunch, then we went to the museum to take a peek.
She had never been to NOMA, though she's quite an artist herself,
I thought that this introduction could give her creativity some help.

Then, another niece came over with her husband and their boys;
This time it wasn't for them to play with Richard and their toys.
We took them on a field trip to the Global Wildlife Center,
Where into the world of children's wildest dreams we can all enter.

There are four thousand deer of several species, camels, and zebras, too;
But this isn't simply viewing, like we have at any zoo.
We ride along in jungle trams, but to the boys, they're trains.
The tractor driver gets up-close; the tour guide calls the animals by name.

How much fun is it to feed a bison, and a giraffe, and her baby?
We were a little disappointed because these animals were being lazy,
So we actually only got to feed the aforementioned herds,
But the joy of the children of all ages was still too much for words.

The weather couldn't have been finer; we had a nice cool breeze.
The youngest child was lulled to sleep upon his daddy's knees.
It was a perfect kind of Sunday, even though we got home late.
For the Sunday roast that I had cooked, they really couldn't wait.

The daddy had to go to work, the mom had homework to do;
I was glad that of their busy hours, we were able to share a few
We'll be together again this week, to celebrate my birthday
Nothing is ever better than when the families come to play.

Today

Today, the smell of dark roast coffee awakens us to our new reality.
Today, we are again on the harbor, just one door down from yesterday.
Today, there is roast to brown for our family's superb Sunday supper.
Today, we watched the babies feed the flocks at our conservation center.
Today, their daddy would be late to work, so we packed supper to go for them.
Today, I read and watch the sailboats, as he watches a little TV.
Today, there's a ring of sunset clouds, as we say good-bye to another day.

Passion Play

What to do when words are simply superfluous?
How can we proceed when passion comes into play,
If all the many little bits of our reality
Continuing failing to line up the right way?

Where are we to store the energy
That seems always ready to explode,
When there are polite society things to do
And there's no time or place to unload?

We must make time to sing, and dance,
And paint our passions into action.
We must celebrate our bodies with others
Who give our souls deep satisfaction.

Run a fast race, hit a ball far,
Play a great tune on the piano,
Hug each other, oh so tight,
Swing as high as you can go.

Roll on the floor with laughter,
Give each other big high fives.
Don't hold it in, express it;
Passion is what keeps us alive.

Patriotism in Practice

Touring the World War II Museum twice in one week got me to thinking about patriotism and business practices. Andrew Jackson Higgins, a native of Nebraska, and an adult entrepreneurial son of South Louisiana, was the quintessential American patriot. He was as rugged as a mountain man, as hard working as any lumberjack, as tenacious as a trapper, and as fair-minded as a family of farmers.

Hitler called Andrew Jackson Higgins "The New Noah". General Eisenhower said that Higgins won World War II. Neither of these things is exactly true. Higgins was more like Moses than Noah, and, if it's true that his boats won the war, it was the chosen people of South Louisiana who he hired that made it happen. Higgins was the patriot and visionary leader who believed in America, and the people who worked with him were wise enough to follow his lead.

Higgins had little formal education, but was one of the most creative problem solvers of the twentieth century. He knew more about building small boats than anyone who had ever lived. He was also a master at creating communities that worked together for the common good. Higgins consistently practiced fairness in his hiring practices and in pricing the goods purchased with the taxpayers' hard-earned money. This is what patriotism should be about.

Nobody believed more firmly in the American way of life than did Andrew Jackson Higgins. He believed that vision and hard work was the way to make waves of much-needed change, and he proved it every day. With his example and leadership, he inspired tens of thousands of average citizens of South Louisiana to give their all to their country. His American ingenuity combined with Louisiana labor proved to be unbeatable.

Higgins hired anyone who was willing to work: man, woman, black, white, healthy or infirm. He used the trade schools that already existed and set up on-the-job training schools at his plants. He got to know the people who worked with him by being on the job himself. As problems arose, he addressed them; even setting up a subdivision with a school and recreation facilities for Higgins Industry families when housing shortages presented themselves. This should be a hallmark of patriotism.

Higgins invested his mind and his money into our country. He insisted on giving our government the lowest price possible on his products. It was through his efforts that then Senator Truman created a commission to investigate and resolve the price gouging that many military contractors were practicing with impunity. This also should be a hallmark of patriotism.

Since 1997, hundreds of volunteers have invested thousands of hours in recreating Higgins Boats for the World War II Museum in New Orleans. This group of dedicated boat builders is now a non-profit organization called The Higgins Boat Society. The Higgins Boat Society celebrates and salutes the life and spirit of Andrew Jackson Higgins and the proud people of Higgins Industries. Not only our country, but a lot of Louisianians owe much of what we have to them.