THANK YOU TREE

 

There is this oak tree in our front yard with whom I like to talk…she greets me every morning as I’m about to take my walk.

After our greeting this morning…I paused…overcome by a wave of sadness because…I don’t think I ever thanked this tree for everything she does.

When I think about this tree…any tree…how quickly I discern how a tree’s life is all about giving while asking for nothing in return.

This tree has been around forever…how long is difficult to gauge…because, as she often tells me, you don’t ask a tree it’s age.

But all this time has filled her with wisdom…in every branch and leaf and nook…wisdom she will gladly share…if one knows where to look.

Under her leaves we have found comfort…it’s where our children and grandchildren played….She helps to clean the air we breathe and has provided us with shade.

Her bark has survived all kinds of weather…winds and rains and storms…

and reminds us as we all grow older to be proud of the wrinkles that we’ve formed. 

Her roots run deep into the earth…providing her with strength and stability…and remind us how some of our most important parts are the ones we cannot see.

Her leaves not only help her grow and add to her beauty…but drop when the fall winds blow…reminding us how love is as important in holding us together…as it is in letting go.

So I went back to the thank my tree…for being so important…so valuable…and ever so beguiling….and as I walked away when I turned back to look…I could see my tree was smiling.

HIS FEET

 

After her mother died she watched her father begin to fade away.

He was always a quiet man, reserved, polite…soft spoken.

but now he hardly ever said a word…she could see his heart was broken.

When he did speak…it was only in whispers…he told her silence was his choice.

He did not want a sound…any sound…to muffle the memory of her voice.

When she asked him why he stopped his morning walks…he smiled,

“I am happy sitting here…thinking about her.”

“Besides,” he smiled, “my feet aren’t as trustworthy as they used to be…It seems they don’t know where to go without her.”

She stopped by every day to comfort him…the father she adored…but with each visit he seems a little sadder…a little older…he seemed to fade away a little more.

Until the day she came and found him in his favorite chair…his favorite place…he’d gone to be with her mother…and for the first time in a long time…he had a smile on his face.

“Goodbye, Daddy.” She said kissing his cheek…then laying her head inside his palm…”Have a safe trip…and when you get to Heaven…say Hi for me…to Mom.”

Then glancing down she smiled through her tears…as she whispered, “I’ll miss you Daddy…but I am happy knowing…even though it took a while…you’re feet know where they’re going.

BABY SOUINDS

 

The other day as I headed out on the early walk I always take…in the silence of the morning I heard those familiar sounds a baby makes.

And I thought…isn’t this a wonderful way for a new day to begin…so, as those sounds drifted to me on the morning breeze, I stopped to drink them in.

A cry…a coo…a gurgle…these and other sounds arose…indistinguishable to me…but sounds, I’m sure, his Mommy knows.

That day also happened to be our eldest grandson’s 24th birthday…and as I stood there…on a whim…my memory took me back to a time when those same sounds…came from him.

And I found myself smiling as those sounds…24 years apart…blended together into a symphony…a symphony for my heart.

Later that day as we talked to Damien on the phone…I thought back to his first cry…and gurgle…and coo…and how in 24 years those sounds have transformed into Nana and PopPop…I love you.

And I hope those baby sounds I heard this morning at the beginning of my day…with a little love…over time…will transform in the same way.

I know what you’re thinking…in all these years we’ve watched his life unfold…if our grandson is 24…why don’t Deborah and I look old?

Wait! That’s not what you were thinking…you would not be so inclined…

You’re telling me that how young we look…never crossed your mind!

Well, that’s too bad for if it did the answer is quite simple…

and it’s a reason that often goes unsung…

The sounds our grandchildren make…

will always keep us young

WE ARE A PUZZLE

 

We live our life in fragments…moments that are fleeting.

We spend a lifetime accumulating pieces to a puzzle we are, everyday, completing.

Our parents begin our puzzle…(it is after them our puzzle’s named)

as they assemble the border pieces in which our puzzle will be framed

And though we’re happy they have set the boundaries…and arranged our cornerstones

there comes a time in every life when we must search for pieces on our own.

And so we spend our days and nights searching…determined not to quit…until we discover that one piece…that is a perfect fit.

But we don’t have long to enjoy the moment…how two pieces have aligned…because we know our puzzle’s incomplete…and there are more pieces left too find…

And we have days the puzzle goes together easily…and our hearts and spirits soar…while other days we can’t seem to find the piece we’re looking for.

And sometimes our pieces seem to fit perfectly …we’re sure together they belong…only to find we were mistaken…and wonder how we could have ever been so wrong. 

But in all of our searching…through our calm waters and our storms…piece by piece the puzzle of our life…of who we are…begins to form.

And such is the nature of our puzzle…that it may, at times, confuse…for the picture changes daily depending on the pieces that we choose.

In the end we hope we’ve chosen wisely…

that no piece has been mistreated

and our friends and family will smile…

at the puzzle we’ve completed.

FALLING LEAVES

 

Today as I walked under our oak trees a persistent morning breeze coaxed a myriad of leaves from their home amidst the trees.

(For those of you experiencing winter…who think a poem about fallen leaves is just wrong…Remember…I happen to live Florida…where the leaves fall all year long!)

A breeze I could not see but I could feel and hear its sound…caused a multitude of leaves to bid their their limbs adieu and flutter to the ground.

And for a moment I was a child again…I felt innocent and small

as I laid down in the grass (by the way…the best place to watch them fall).

And I found myself thanking the wind and the trees and thanking Mother Nature by her name…for once again reminding me how nothing ever stays the same..

Every day change is occurring right before our eyes…trees lose their leaves, babies are born…new clouds soar across the sky.

The weather changes every day…today it’s warmer…yesterday it was a little colder…and every day, as part of life, we grow a little older.

Since, like the leaves, our days upon this planet are finite…our time on Earth is measured…every second of life should be cherished…every moment treasured.

No moment should be thought too insignificant…

for everywhere there is magic to be found…

like laying in the grass on a breezy morning

and trying to catch some leaves as they flutter to the ground.

THAT OLD CHAIR

 

That old blue chair doesn’t look that special upon one’s first perceiving…but, as often is the case in life, looks can be deceiving.

There’s a reason we keep that old chair in our house…a reason it will always be there…you see it has a history…it was Deborah’s great grandmother’s chair.

That chair has been in Deborah’s family for years…ours is just the latest house in which it dwells…If you chance to sit and listen…oh, the stories it will tell.

Sitting in a chair like this you realize…this chair is not just yours…as you rest your arms on the same arm rests where Deborah’s great grandma rested hers.

Memories in that old blue chair run through its frame…run deep…close your eyes and you can feel Deb’s great grandma rocking her to sleep.

Keep them closed and you can feel as she listened to her old phonograph…you can see her smile as she watched her family…you can hear her cry…her laugh.

That old chair is more than just a chair…through all these years it has survived…and the memories stored within it help keep a family’s history alive.

That chair will one day be handed down again and again and in other houses it will dwell…and to those lucky enough to sit in it…oh, the stories it will tell…

No doubt people will say that old chair doesn’t look so special upon their first perceiving…

until they sit down…

close their eyes and realize…

looks can be deceiving.

THE STRANGER

 

He wasn’t a regular customer…at least I hadn’t seen him here before.

The store was empty, save for me, when he walked in through the door.

He purchased a couple books but instead of taking them and walking…he looked me in the eyes…and then he started talking.

It was a free association of his thoughts…from one subject to another he would hop…and there was a time, I’m sorry to admit, when I wished for him to stop.

But I felt bad for thinking that…so I whisked that thought away…and I began to actively listen…to what he had to say.

Once that initial negative feeling I was able to reverse…I learned a lot about this young man in the hour we conversed.

I learned how old he was…about his family…and the reason he purchased his two books…It’s because he’s living on his own now and he wants to teach himself to cook.

I learned about the food he likes…how he’s really into spices…And now that he’s buying his own food…how he’s amazed at the high prices.

I learned about his job…where he goes to work each day…and amidst this plethora of information he was sharing…I learned his father had recently passed away.

It was here, for me, the pieces fell into place…all the clues were there….all the reasons…he was so willing, with me, to share.

All the stories of his family…of his mom (also passed) and his dad… 

He was a just little lonely…and he was just a little sad.

And in our moment of time together…in this uninhabited space

I found myself not only listening to his words but watching the expressions on his face…

And realizing, once again…not knowing what’s around the bend tomorrow….there is no substitute for joy in life…and there is no cure for sorrow.

And I was glad I chose to listen…glad he walked in through my door…

And glad that when he left…we were not strangers anymore.

MEMORIES OF THE RAIN

 

One of the wonders of the memories which flow beneath the surface of our minds…nonstop…is that we never know what random act will bring them to the top.

It happens all of a sudden…out of the blue…and it’s not easy to explain…like this morning halfway through my walk when it began to rain.

It was more like a drizzle…a sprinkle…it certainly was raining…yet…it was the kind of rain you can walk in without ever getting wet.

It was a cloudless and clear morning…where this rain came from…I don’t know….but immediately amidst this drizzle memories began to flow.

These memories did not burst from the water…frantic…unrestrained…no, they floated to the surface softly…gently…kind of like the rain.

I remember playing in the rain as children…with nothing covering our feet…meticulously creating mud pies…we were never going to eat.

I remember there was nothing quite as thrilling (although our parents were not as entertained) as they watched us from the dryness of the house…ride bikes…with no hands…in the rain.

I remember the wonderful feeling of mud spattering on my back…as my back became a blotter when we road our bikes through the ditches as they filled up with muddy water.

I remember when our children were children, unlike our parents, who would graciously abstain…We would take off our shoes and socks…and join them in the rain.

The drizzle stopped and I continued walking…and the memories that had emerged….lingered with me a little longer before they faded and submerged.

It was a wonderful feeling…one I hope I never will forget…

The day the rain allowed me to dip into the waters of my memory…

without ever getting wet.

THE SHOT

 

We had just received our second COVID vaccination…the one that if we get the Coronavirus will help us to survive…and then we waited the next few days for the side effects to arrive.

We read about them…and friends had given us a list of side effects they compiled…but we were lucky as our side effects…were relatively mild.

We had some slight headaches, some chills and our arms hurt where the medicine when in…but overall I have to say when it comes to vaccination side effects…We win!

Until I looked in the mirror and what I saw…stopped me cold…”Deborah, I said, come quick…I think this vaccination’s made me old!”

“My skins all wrinkly…there’s spots all over it…and much to my surprise…a lot of my hair is missing…and I have bags underneath my eyes!”

The more I looked at myself the more I realized…It was just as I had thought…I’ve aged a lot in these few days…after receiving my COVID shot.

Deborah was not very comforting…she did not ease my fears…as she kissed me on my wrinkly cheek and said, “You’ve looked like that for years”.

Oh, that can’t be true I said to myself as Deborah walked away without acknowledging my woe…I’m sure I looked much younger just a couple days ago…

But there is a silver lining…for now when people say I’ve gotten older…

that my looks have gone to pot…

I will wave my wrinkly hand…

smile my wrinkly smile and say…

“I blame it on the shot”.

OLD ONE'S WORDS

 

The family was celebrating the birth of a new baby…who, as is tradition, one by one each relative would greet…when all were done the oldest member of the family rose up from her seat.

She walked slowly to the baby and whispered as she raised him up and looked into his eyes…

“May you grow up to be a person who is brave

who is respectful

who is giving 

who is wise”.

Then, as tradition also dictates, she turned to the gathered crowd…

silence blanketed the room and all the heads were bowed.

“I have spoken to the child.” She said with a smile that soothed her furrowed brow…

I wished for him to be brave, respectful, giving and wise…

and now it’s up to us to show him how.

The silence continued as they filed out for what she said was true…and if they wanted this child to be brave, respectful, giving and wise…they knew what they must do.

For they know the old one’s words are only words…

they know through that child’s successes and failures..

through all his joy and strife…

It will be their responsibility as a family…

to bring her words to life.

THE EMPTY NEST

 

On my walk this morning I felt particularly blessed when, after hearing, chirping from the tree above me, I watched two birds leave their nest.

I saw the two little birds look back to their mom and dad…then look up at the sky…and I’m sure I saw pride on the faces of their parents..as they watched their babies fly.

I don’t know how birds think…but I think I could have guessed…they were wondering what to do now as they stared at their empty nest.

If I could talk bird I would tell them…don’t worry, don’t fret…don’t cry…for I had the same feeling when I watched our children fly.

I would tell them all parents wonder if our children have learned the lessons we have taught…how today you think your nest is empty…but tomorrow you’ll realize…it is not.

Because there’s something every parent knows…every parent understands…that no matter how high our children fly…eventually they have to land.

And wherever their wings have taken them…wherever they come to rest…they will visit us with questions as they begin to build their nests.

Yes, if I could talk bird here are two more things I’d say…that though their children have left the nest…they have not flown away.

I wold tell them to get ready for all the excitement…

all the adventures they have in store…

I would tell them their nest is far from empty…

it’s just grown much larger than before.

ROUTINES

 It’s funny the different people you meet in life who follow a similar routine…walk with me a moment and I’ll tell you what I mean.

Besides the first birds of the morning and the rabbits and other animals I greet along the way…there’s Bob who walks his dog at the same time every day.

There’s the old people sitting on the deck of their assisted living home…I usually count three…old people who are also up early…old people just like me.

There’s Stella, the homeless lady..who, I imagine, has lost her way…there’s the old man in a blue car who waves as he passes me each day.

And then there’s Oscar and Olivia another older couple who always pass me by…who love to do their walking under the moon…or a starlit sky.

I hadn’t seen Oscar and Olivia in a while…until just the other day when I noticed up ahead of me…Oscar walking my way.

“Hey, Oscar!” I asked innocently, “Where is Olivia this fine day?”

Oscar’s head bowed ever so slightly as he told me Olivia had passed away.

“I’m so sorry, Oscar.” I said as my own emotions I couldn’t hide.

“Let me tell you what I told Olivia,” Oscar said, “as I held her hand…the day she died.”

“I told her I’d loved her all my life…II told her never ever to forget…how my love for her was waiting in my heart long before the day we met.”

I told her I hope my love for her has matched all the love for me she’s shown…

I told her how I loved our walks together…and because I have our memories…I will never walk alone…

And I told her not to worry about me…though I’m not sure where…or when…

I have so much love for her that will be waiting…until we meet again…

I still follow my same routine each morning…I say hi to the animals, to Bob and his dog, to Stella, to the old folks…and before I’ve traveled vary far…as if our clocks are synchronized…I wave to the the man in the blue car 

And when I see Oscar coming toward me…as always…out of his way I politely slide…

giving him all the room he needs to pass…with Olivia by his side.

NEWLY FALLEN TREE

 

I was walking in the woods the other day when what did I happen to see...across the path in front of me…a newly fallen tree.

The fact that it was newly fallen was easy to perceive.

The bark was still in tact and Its branches still had leaves

"Are you sad that you have fallen?" I asked the tree…"sad that you will die?"

The tree thought about it for a moment….’No’ came his reply.

‘From the moment we sprout from the ground when we are thin and small...all trees know eventually one day we will fall.’

'It's a trees job to stand tall and strong to provide shelter to the birds before we go…knowing one day we will become part of the Earth so that other trees may grow.'

‘This is the cycle of a tree’s life…this is our path…this is the only way…and all trees understand…the part we’re meant to play.’

How can I be sad I’ve fallen…when deep in my bark I have no doubt...my falling will give so many other trees their opportunity to sprout.'

‘And how can I be sad as upon this ground I lie…when, for a little while in my life, I was blessed to touch the sky.'

CHILDREN AND ELDERS

 

In the circle of life it is vital we peacefully co-exist…which means our children and our elders should never be dismissed.

Children, who are at the beginning of life, and elders, who are nearing the end are equally important and come with their own dividends.

Our children remind us there is wonder and hope…around every corner…around every turn…while our elders have already experienced so much of what we are waiting to learn.

Why should we listen to our children and our elders?

Because...not only is it important to our growth…

but there comes a point in our circle of life…

when we will have been both.

KARMA AT THE BOOKSTORE

 

I believe Karma is circle…I believe what the wise ones say is true…

If you think good thoughts, say nice things and do good things for others….

eventually good will find its way back to you.

But Karma has no timeline…we never know the date, the time…the day...when Karma will return….when it will come our way…

Take yesterday for instance, Karma had me stunned when a mother using a walker entered our bookstore…followed by her son.

They discussed a host of different books…at times it sounded like they fought…

but after each one found the book they wanted…they brought them to the counter to be bought.

The son was first to buy…at least…I’m pretty sure he was her son…

as he handed me cash with his shaky hands…he asked if I could make his change…in ones.

We are a little bookstore…since people pay with 20’s often our supply of ones runs low…so it isn’t very often we like to see them go.

But there was something in his manner his demeanor…a kind of honesty that made me think he needed those ones a little more than we.

So I handed him his change in ones… “Thank You…Thank You …he exclaimed…and when his mother bought her book…she asked for the same.

I didn’t ask why they needed them…didn’t think it was my place…

but I do know as they left the store…there was a smile on each face…

The next customer into the store was a woman…she bought a few books and here is where I was stunned…when she asked me if I'd mind…if she paid for them…with ones….

Yes, Karma is a mysterious thing…It often returns when we’re not looking for it…sometimes it comes back undetected…

but every now and then… 

it returns…

so much quicker than expected.

GIFT CARDS

 

I love receiving gift cards…for restaurants…for bakeries…for our local hardware store…but after opening yesterday’s mail…I’m not sure how I feel about gift cards anymore.

The $850 price on the gift card was certainly endearing…but it was sent to me in the likelihood that I’ve been having trouble hearing.

“Obviously this is a mistake!” I said to myself.  “My hearing is quite strong!”

But my name on the front of the envelope proved that I was wrong.

I don’t know anything about metrics…at math I’ve never been that great…but, apparently, people begin to lose their hearing…when they turn 68.

And it seems the Beltone company wasn’t just doing me a favor…as their $850 gift card wold imply…they’re assuming, after 68 years, my hearing’s gone awry.

I am proof, however, once the numbers are crunched and all the calculating’s done…what might be true for some…is not true for everyone.

I am embracing getting older…I have no reason to cry or moan or whine…I’m healthy and I’m happy…and my hearing is just fine.

So Beltone if you want to send me a gift card…I think it would be neat…if it was for $850 dollars at the bakery down the street.

I’ll buy as many donuts as I can carry, I’ll stack them in a dome…

and I’ll eat them as I read my next letter…

it’s from a funeral home.

THE FUNERAL OF A FRIEND WE NEVER KNEW

 

Today was a different day for Deborah and I…let me now review…

We decided to attend a funeral of a person we never knew…

To understand our reasoning…why this is not as crazy as it appears…we must take you back in time a little…back 14 and 1/2 years.

That’s when our granddaughter Ava was born…we made a plan we couldn’t resist…we would purchase a charm bracelet that, one day, she will wear upon her wrist.

The idea is to add a charm each year…representing a time, a place…a scene…we keep the bracelet with us…until she turns sixteen.

We found a jeweler, her name is Kim, we liked the tattoos she had on her arm.

We told her the story of Ava’s bracelet and she said she’d be happy to attach the charm.  

The first charm turned out beautifully…Kim’s expertise as a jeweler was quite clear…so we decided to take Ava’s bracelet and new charm back to her each year.

Now every year around the same time…just as we did the year before…we show up with bracelet and charm in hand…in front of Kim at her jewelry store.

We talk about Ava and how quickly our children and grandchildren grow…then Deborah and Kim get together to decide where the charm should go.

In the 14 years we’ve been doing this…as one year into another blends…we ceased to be jeweler and customers…and along the way we became friends.

I find it difficult to explain…as the reasons are often unclear…how a friendship can form with someone we see only once or twice a year…

But isn’t that the thing about friends…the thing that gives friendship its flair…You don’t have to see them often…to know that they are there.

We stopped by to pick up a ring Kim was fixing for Deborah the other day…and her emotions…she was unable to hide…through tears she could not control she told us her only son had died.

We did not know her son…never met him in these 14 years…
but there is something about a friendship…when a friend cries you can feel her tears.

So that’s how we ended up in the back of a church…

sitting in the very last pew….

there to support a friend…

at the funeral…

of a person we never knew.