Pushing pause on a moment

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Right this minute,
we are all safe and sound.
I’ll take it.

Hold my breath and enjoy.
No one is mad.
No one is troubled.
Everyone is right where they should be.
My family.

There is a whisper of perfection.
So frail, we must talk softly.
So subtle, I almost missed it.
A fleeting glimpse.
A bubble bouncing
on a blade of grass;
the burst inevitable but gentle.

A moment demanding to be noticed.
As delicate as a dress
being saved for a special occasion.
Taking careful time to be revealed.
Appreciated.

So, stop and listen.
Sip and taste.
Savoring the sweetness swirled
in a heavy glass and enjoyed.

Cheers!

This moment,
where all is well and rare.
Kids are outside to play.
Laughing and giggling.
Today, it seems there are no monsters to slay and I can say
I’ve mothered them well.
Relax and welcome the swell.
Pride and contentment warm my face.

I smile and glow and celebrate
a moment of jokes,
hugs and welcome homes!

In an instant, a visit.
My brother on hometown soil.
Respite for this refugee.
Our hero,
our Drakie.

We all grasp at our chance to share him.
Slice his time like a juicy pie.
Against his will, but he won’t mind.
He has no choice.
Making the rounds.
Breaking bread with friends…
before his journey beings.

Right this minute we know we’re lucky.
To see that he is still himself.
Home and whole.
Here, and FULL of life and laughter.
Stories, glories and dreams.
Victories.

Burn this onto all of our hearts,
file it away as he goes.
So when he closes his eyes tight at night we will be with him there.
Wherever he will be.
Where a war will rage
to rob him of his joy
and memories.
Innocence and revelries.

We will be as real as we can be.
Tucked into a corner of his heart that he will guard fiercely.
Visiting when the coast is clear.

This is now, for real.

As real as his big, brown bag thrown into the back of my truck.
Heavy with the clothes and concerns he has packed up.
Tossed aside for a respite,
and peace of mind.

As real as his laugh that hasn’t changed since he was a kid.
Singing and dancing in cowboy boots and fringe.
Making everyone laugh as he always did.

As real as the curly red hair kept short on his head.

As real as this moment that’s already being muted.

As real as being fully alive as we are right now!
Sewn together in a way
I couldn’t describe if I tried.

My tribe.

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Good intentions

Another holiday down. Right? It feels like I just put all my Christmas stuff back in the garage…
Now, looking down the scope and starting to reserve days in the upcoming summer months, I already feel tired.

The weekend was filled with different friends and family. We were busy but it was fun. The kids enjoyed candy and baskets and Eastery things. It’s fun to watch them get older, relying on the traditions we’ve created. The hope of all of us as parents for holidays, I think, is to give them some good memories and good moments and traditions to pass along. Being a proper pessimist, with each holiday that passes, I come to the realization that I have only so many left. I count on my hands how many more years I have of my babies in my home, waking up to Easter baskets or birthday pancakes.
Holidays have become a marker, or a milestone to me. Call me an old fashioned sap, but I can’t help but feel nostalgic. ( Think Chevy Chase in the attic watching home movies in “Christmas Vacation”) After all, at the end of the day that’s all we have is our memories. A timeline of seasons, trips, people, events, memories. Laughs shared around tables. Stories told. Jokes rebirthed.
I know that underneath it all lies the other half of the coin…
The squabbles. The disappointments and let downs. Broken promises. Short tempers. Small comments and digs. Resentments. But if we choose to sit and marinate in the hassles of being human we really do miss out on the beauty of it all.
And we ALL have hassles don’t we?

β€œHappiness, not in another place but this place…not for another hour, but this hour.”
― Walt Whitman