A Red Flash of You

The dishes are sloshing in the dishwasher. The tablecloth, with bright colored evidence of our gathering, waits to be put in the dryer. And I have been enjoying walking through my house, seeing memories of grandchildren, laughter, and delicious food around every corner. I hope your Thanksgiving was as lovely as ours.

The inspiration for my poem today.

Today is Poetry Friday, and I was lucky enough to have a poem land on the branch outside my window this morning. I did what a poem always requests of you: I sat down and spent some time with it.

Like many of you, these Holidays bring a tinge of sadness for the empty seat at our table.

My beautiful Mom and I. I miss her so much...

This poem tries to put this into words. If you are missing someone this week, know you are not alone. Sending you BIG hugs...

To leave you with a smile, here is a short clip from yesterday of my grandson, who spurred a spontaneous rendition of "This Little Light of Mine." What joy!

You can catch the other lovely poems at our host's blog, in addition to a fascinating look at Poet Suzy Levinson's new book, "DINOS THAT DRIVE." There is a lot that goes into a poetry collection. I am definitely finding that out as I have three in progress!!

Thank you Buffy for hosting today! https://buffysilverman.com/blog/

Unexpected Healing

When you think about it... Hugs are a simple thing.

Eyes catch the glance of another. We move toward one another. Heads move to one side, arms wrap, holding close for a brief second or more.

Words may follow….

“It’s so good to see you.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“I missed you so much!”

“You got this.”

 “I love you.”

 “Thank you.”

Or not…

The hug may have said it all.

Then the pull apart—

a step back,

arms slide down to cradle hands,

or just letting go.

And if the emotion is high, this simple act may be repeated

 with copious amounts of tears,

unbridled laughter, (sometimes both at the same time),

or simply silence.  

I’ve had a variety of hugs this week.

·      The “Quick man-hug-with-a-quick-squeeze-tap-on-the-back-and-grunt-hug.”

·      The “Leaning-over-while-your-9-year-old-grandchild-backs-into-your-leg-hug.”

·      The “Exhale-into-someone’s-arms-as-if-you’d-been-waiting-forever-hug.”

·      The “You-make-me-feel-safe-hug.”

·      The “I-just-need-to-be-held-and-we’re-gonna-get-through-this-lingering-hug.”

No Venmo, tapping on the screen, or reaching into your wallet is needed. Maybe that’s what makes them so precious. It is the gift of another person wanting to be close to another and connection.

This week, on a walk to shake off the day, my husband and I headed to a park.

Acres of open grass gave us breathing space.

The breeze brushed by and through us, taking heaviness with it.

The colors were extraordinary.

Heading to our car, we passed by a group of locals setting up a table. The joy on the children’s faces caught my eye. I didn't realize I was going to get a gift.

Then I saw the sign, “FREE HUGS.”

Without hesitation, I walked over to the little girl and her parents, eyes welling up a bit.

"This is so nice, " I said, leaning in for a brief side hug, "You made my day."

I thanked her and told her that her smile and hug made everything a little bit better, and to keep being the kind, and wonderful girl that she is.

I have thought of this girl often this week. Giving what she could, a smile and a hug.

Maybe a hug can be the viral gift of the season.

The world needs more hugs right now, don't we?

I leave you with a Haiku for this Poetry Friday.

Sunset light sets leaves ablaze.

Hanging like ripe fruit,

ready for harvest, they fall.

©cathystenquist

Be sure to fill your bucket today with the poetry round-up at Patricia Franz's lovely blog. Her Autumn Tanka is lovely! Thanks for hosting, Patricia!

Digger Trucks

There's something magical about trucks that takes my grandson, Ronan away in his imagination. Mail trucks, construction trucks, garbage trucks, and even my husband's Silverado parked in the driveway.

But his favorite construction truck is an excavator. He loves to sing Blippi's Excavator song. You can listen here. Beware, it is catchy!

Awakening from his afternoon nap, on the days I watch him, he pulls to his feet, stares at the window and points.

"Grampie's truck,!" he says loud and clear.

So our routine begins. I lift him to a nice, warm, sleepy hug. Then, parked on my hip, we make our way to the window. As the shade rises, Ronan blocks his eyes for a minute, "Bright light," he confirms, while I slide the window open.

And for a while, we just stay there, feeling the air, listening to birds and talking about Grampie's truck.

"Grampie's Truck!!!" he repeats with a big smile. "Drive it!" he adds. I chuckle.

Photo by Jerry Spar /Hopkinton Independent

Garbage truck days are awesome of course, but our favorite recent activity is pulling into the parking area across from a construction site near me, and watching the 4 excavators scoop and pour their loads into dump trucks. I imagine we could spend the day there with no problem.

Needless to say, as his birthday rolled around, I wanted to give him an excavator. And with Halloween around the corner, Pinterest did not disappoint, giving me quite a few ideas. Armed with a black foam core board, a few boxes from "Green Chef," an Exacto knife, and duct tape, I was off.

I even found some push-on lights for the front, which were the biggest hit!

Cousin play

As you can see, he eventually warmed up to it. I'm not sure yet if he will actually step into it and wear it with the construction vest and hat... but what can you expect from a 2-year-old!

Ronan's construction birthday cake

This morning, in honor of Poetry Friday yesterday, I wrote an excavator poem for Ronan.  Enjoy!

Check out this week's Poetry Friday offerings at our host, Linda's blog, Teacher Dance. Thanks for hosting Linda!