One Fine Little Family

I'm in love with the little family
That lives across the way,
Even though we have never
Had any words to say.

The tall, pencil-thin mama,
The barrel-shaped grandma,
Supported by the short stout daddy.
Is that his mother-in law?

They so obviously love their children
And enjoy them immensely
I guess they would think it creepy
That they share it, unseen, with me.

Most days they are in the pool
Outside my living room window,
But this morning in the teaming rain
Mama and daughter had places to go.

The tiny girl in a pink tutu,
Perched on her mother's hip,
Protected by her mother's arms
With their strong, sheltering grip.

I guess that grandma was inside
Sitting with the precious baby boy.
Watching all this love in action
Gives me untold, silent joy.

Being Nice and Real Life

I had lunch with a close friend last week
Who shared a quote she had heard on life.
She said, "Home is where we go
When we're tired of being nice."

I guess I must have skipped this lesson
In the things one learns before marriage.
I have been thinking all along
This would be married love's miscarriage.

I thought if there was no peace at home,
The marriage was doomed to end.
At sixty, I'm learning life's lessons
From some of my oldest friends.

My seventh grade teacher visited;
She was married sixty-four years.
She's widowed now, and shared with me
Her family's laughter and their tears.

She told me that she left him once,
But he followed her to win her back;
Never in their marriage was there
A spirited discussion lack.

My other mother gave me a quote
As we were a bit of wine drinking,
"If a couple never fights,
Someone isn't thinking."

She allowed that she and her husband
Were the thinkingest couple she knew.
And in their long life together
Their friends numbered more than a few.

They brought up two children who
Both spent their lives as nurses.
Clearly dynamic tension in marriage
Isn't the worst stress there is.

Both of these women are
Strong in their own rights.
I think this is the secret to
Having productive fights.

We all need to hone our strengths,
And learn how to work hard,
Learn what's important to fight for;
Moral children may be our reward.

Divine Disaster

When my mother died I claimed her mixer,
But it was missing a large bowl,
So I bought a set of several sizes,
Thinking this would make it whole.

I was making a carrot cake for
The birthday of my "other mother,"
When the batter slung all over the kitchen
Like sweet, orange melted butter.

The mixer twirled that bowl around
At such a fantastic speed
I wished I had a sister here;
We'd have had quite a laugh, indeed.

It seems that my mom's mixer is
Much more powerful than mine,
Or is this a little prank they played,
My mom and her Divine?

Stupid Substitutions

When dealing with any form of technology
I always assume the jokes will be on me.
I found an easy way to substitute words,
But it led to words that I've never heard.
I thought I was changing a name from Ann
To May; at least that had been my plan,
But, lo and behold, the program when in doubt,
Sought the centers of words and cast them out.
All my many references to canning food
Were changed to cMaying; that wasn't good.
In my book about farm life this word appeared
Several hundred times. Oh Dear!
I'm going through the work to change them all back;
Technology may give me a heart attack.

OCD in Action

Richard is now a tour guide, even though he will not boast.
People come to see the PT Boat and he becomes their host.
They probably get more information than they ever thought they needed
Like how many nuts and bolts are on board and what horsepower is exceeded.
He is so proud of this project that he often is elected
To do many detailed and risky jobs that, by others, are rejected.
Like crawling around in the rotting hull, taking photos of the structure
Risking life and limb if the planks choose this time to rupture.
He then painstakingly catalogs the pictures and the plans;
These picky jobs have been his specialty since the museum began.
Whoever says that OCD doesn't have a positive side
Has never had Richard as part of their team or their historical tour guide.

Refashioning Families

A big problem with families is the passing of the buck,
Blaming those who are close to us for our bad luck.
It is also convenient to have a several to blame
For decisions of our own that turned out to be lame.

There are many joys in having second chosen mothers,
And siblings by choice, be they sisters or brothers.
We start out with no baggage and no competition
For which one of us has the greatest erudition.

We can bring small gifts that really mean nothing,
But are simply a little "remember me" offering.
We can also limit the time we spend together
To opportunities to help each other feel better.

This isn't an option in families, of course
Unless the family members are willing to divorce.
Then all can be rosy, and sweet, and kind
"In love," not love, is that which is blind.

So what does one do to take care of the pain
That we bring home with us time and again?
Some have a cocktail; some say a prayer;
Some go into hiding; wishing no one was there.

One joy of retirement when the children have gone
Is that we can set the moods in our own homes.
No more are there pressures outside of ourselves
On which either of us is forced to dwell.

Being at the Beginning

A best friend came to visit, one who knows me well;
We reminisced about our lives, our heavens and our hells.
We took very different paths through family, faith, and fame
But, in the end, what we longed for was to be back home again.
There are so few friends who can look deep into our souls,
And aren't afraid to expose the things that keep us from being whole.
These friends are treasures because we have such long history
Where, in new relationships, who we are is a mystery.
It takes too much energy to begin at the beginning,
Continuing explanations for why we can't keep from sinning.
These friends already have deep understanding in their eyes;
Their compassion for us, once again, pulls the truth out of our lies.