Young Family's Dismay

"Hey there, how's it going?"

I asked him on the phone.

"Yah, we're doing good.

We've sure missed you while you've been gone."

I wondered if he was coming back

Or if he was long gone.

That ache I held inside was black,

I just couldn't share with anyone.

But I couldn't let him see it

Or plead with some desperate sound.

It would do nothing but drive him away

I wasn't going to chase him down.

"Are you still at the mill there?

How's the work there day to day?"

That's where I stopped, but wanted to ask,

"Honey, how long will you be away?"

Just then our son ran in,

He saw me on the phone.

"Mom! Isth that Daddy?

Wenth he comin' home?"

"Hi Daddy! Thif ith Mark.

How long will you be away?

Did you know that I got on base

And 'most caught a groundball today?!

"Mom says your job there's done

Maybe nest month or two.

When you get home dad, we'll go fithin',

You know, just me and you."

The question still hung there in the air

Long after I hung up the phone.

I just didn't know how my heart could take it

... all this being alone.

No touch on my skin, no look in his eye.

No calling me up, just to say hi.

No plans for tomorrow, no hope for today.

What did I do to drive him away?

I pray a new prayer this time

At my bed and on my knees,

"God, I quit asking - I just give him to you

And be my comfort, please.

"Help me have a faithful heart,

Help me be who I need to be

For all those who see me every day

And this precious boy who you've given to me."

At Loss for Words

I was just going along
Doing my normal routine one day.
Pain and loneliness began seeking a soul
A frightful visit to pay.

It found me unawares,
Shot right through my body and into my spirit
The news that you would be around no more -
For awhile, I refused to hear it.

Funny that a word-person
Would be at loss for words
To describe something so real;
So tangible that it burns.

Are there words to describe,
Are there words that I know
That can explain this loss that I find
At having to let you go?

Maybe that’s where words are born,
When the body can hold it no more –
The pain inside seemed to explode,
The only escape for emotions to pour.

Or maybe that’s where heartache is born,
When the explosion happens within.
All too much, too soon to process
And the trembling begins again.

Oh, to have had one day with you,
Just you and I alone,
To tell you how much you were loved
And how you’ll be missed when you are gone.

Strange how we’re allowed to love so deep
Then have to let go after a time.
I love you dear, and miss you so much.
I'd rather say any word but "good-bye."

What You Learn

After a while you learn the difference,

Subtle difference,

Between holding a hand and

Chaining a soul.

You learn that love

Doesn't mean leaning and

Company doesn't mean security.

You begin to learn

That kisses aren't contracts and

Presents aren't promises.

You begin to accept your defeats

With your head up and your eyes open,

With the grace of an adult,

Not the grief of a child.

You learn to build

All your roads on today

Because tomorrow's ground

Is too uncertain for plans.

After a while you learn

That even sunshine burns

If you get too much.

So you plant your own garden and

Decorate your own soul

Instead of waiting

For someone to bring you flowers.

You learn

That you really can endure.

That you really are strong.

You really do have worth.

Author Unknown

Music to Me

The piano or organ,
A bug or the sea;
I may be strange,
But all is music to me.

Music comes from
A tuba? A violin?
Or maybe from the fire
As well as any violin.

Some is fun,
Some is more slow.
Your preference is which?
For me, I don’t know.

When I am sad
I like sad songs.
When I’m in the mood
I like bells and gongs.

I also like the rain;
The bass drum – the thunder.
And the string section?
It’s the umbrella I’m under.

Love is the prettiest one.
It’s going on everywhere.
However sweet or sour
By how much you care.

A Heart Mending Wish

I have a pair of jeans so old.
They've been through many things;
Painting the house, trip by the creek,
Grass-stained picknicking games.

The time when I fell off my bike,
Tore a hole and gashed my leg.
The time when I fought with my husband
and knocked over some dye in a rage.

Used up and torn, ripped, stained;
They need a bit of repair.
I think I shall take the effort now
To sew them here... and there... and there.

Oh to be able to mend the holes like those
That are in my heart so deep.
They don't show like the jeans do
So no one sees the damage I keep.

But the frays tend to make my heart
Lose the function it used to have.
Oh, I wish I could sew it up
Because I have so much love to give.

Like these blue jeans I am feeding
Through my sewing machine
I could patch a spot or two
Reinforce here, and there scrub it clean.

Why does it have to stay broken?
Damaged, injured and scared?
I am a woman in want of love
And refuse to make my heart hard.

By hardening my heart
I know what I'd hide myself from -
The continued barage of damage,
Though true recovery would not come.

I look for hints in your eyes...
Despite my brokenness and pain,
Do you see that I want your love?
Do I dare to approach you again?

You come to me at my machine,
You look into my sad eyes green,
Shyly say, "Dear, could you sew up my heart
Like you're sewing those old blue jeans?"