CHAPTERS

 Everyone we meet whether a cause of joy or sorrow or strife

writes another chapter into our book of life.

I met Phil and Lee when they were in their eighties.

They were one of the sweetest couples I’ve ever met

and though they both died long ago…their’s is a chapter I’ll never forget.

I thought about them yesterday…my good friends Phil and Lee

a thought triggered by a song…as that is the wonder of memory.

I immediately stopped what I was doing…stopped by their memory

and flipped back through my book of life…to read the chapter on Phil and Lee.

And though, as I get older, the writing sometimes seems a little blurred

when I found the chapter on Phil and Lee…I savored every word.

I found that as I read this chapter from a distance…from afar

It was filled mostly with joy…but with a touch of sorrow…

as I’m sure most chapters are.

Is that not the beauty of each chapter in our book of life

whether we search them out…or something random generates a thought

for the moment we revisit them……we revisit all the feelings that they brought?

I have a wish for everyone as this current chapte’s being written

as we watch our country bleed…

Take a moment every now an then to leaf through your book of life

and find a chapter you’d like to read.

Your own chapter…your own pages

find your own Phil and Lee

To remind you not only of a happier time… 

but also how all chapters end…eventually.

And to remind you there is a balance in these moments that we share

for as friends and family write a chapter in our life…

we are writing one in theirs.

COMFORTABLE SHOES

 On my walk the other day once again in the early morn

I realized the shoes I’m wearing are the only shoes I’ve ever worn.

I’ve never walked in a Native American’s shoes…never felt the back of America’s hand

as the ones who came here after me threw me off my land.

I have never worn the shoes of an immigrant…never felt their sorrow or their strife

having to leave a country they love…to search for a better life.

I’ve never walked in a black person’s shoes…never worried in my daily nine to five…

never wondered as I started my day….if I would make it home alive.…

I have never walked in a woman’s shoes…I’ve never been downcast

at being paid less for doing the same job as a man…

I’ve never been sexually assaulted or harassed.

I’ve never walked in a poor person’s shoes 

never braved the winter cold or summer heat

without a house to call my own…without enough food to eat.

I’ve never walked in a gay or lesbian’s shoes…never felt societies shove

just because they see me as different…just because of who I love.

I’ve never walked in a Muslim’s shoes…never thought I would see the day

people wanted me out of this country…just because of the way I pray.

I never walked in a policeman’s or a soldier’s shoes

Never felt their fear, their pain, their strife…

I’ve never had anyone shoot at me

never feared for my well being or life

Yes, my shoes have been quite comfortable…every shoe I’ve ever bought

but that doesn’t mean I don’t listen to the voices of the people whose shoes are not.

So I will use my vote…I will raise my voice

I will stand behind…or in a protest line

working and praying for the day everyone’s shoes

are as comfortable as mine.

GOOD AND BAD

 When I was teaching my autistic students 

with, what I thought, was enthusiasm and verve

the parents of the students I taught would oftentimes observe.

And though it’s been many years since I retired

since I left that life behind

two parents in particular…stick out in my mind.

One parent thought I could do no wrong…she thought I was a saint

The other thought everything I did was wrong…a saint, she thought…he ain’t!

I’ill admit when it came to the first parent my ego needed to practice little restraint…

I mean I was doing the best I could but please…really….me…a saint!

And when it came to the second parent my ego needed a little boost..

Again…I was doing the best I could but was I as bad as she deduced?

When my clearer head prevailed after their praise and criticism were dispersed…

I know I wasn’t the best teacher in the world…nor was I the worst.

I did do some things well and so I felt some of the first parent’s praise I earned

while the second parent reminded me…I still had a lot to learn.

These parents taught me how praise could put me on cloud nine

while criticism could cut me like a knife…

in my jobs

my friendships

my marriage

in my parenting…my life

It was probably one of the greatest lessons that I have ever had…

Teaching me to improve on any good I do while learning from the bad.

Even now, when that first parent’s doubt enter my mind…

when I find my confidence is faint…

I smile remembering there’s at least one person out there

who thinks I am a saint.

WHEN A GRANDMA HOLDS HER GRANDSON

 There is a truth we don’t think about when we’re young

It’s just too easy to ignore…

how youth will win the early battles in life…

but age will, eventually, win the war. 

It’s inherent in our destiny…because every night we turn a page

and our youth, felt only moments ago, cedes another day to age.

It seems life is a constant struggle between age and youth…until…

age proves itself triumphant…as age forever will.

But there are moments as we grow older…as yet another page we turn…

when age consents to step aside and allow youth to return…

Like every time a Grandma holds her Grandson…

even for a little while

for as she sees him fall asleep in her arms…

it is her youth that smiles.

Her youth that causes her to reminisce …

her youth that brings her happiness and joy…

a youth transferred to the Grandma…

from the heart of a little boy.

And in this quiet moment shared together

all grandmas recognizes this truth…

and are happy age has stepped aside

and ceded this moment back to youth.

MOM AND DAD

 I was enjoying a quiet moment in the bookstore when bursting through the door

followed by her mom and dad…came a little girl…I imagine around four.

She was wearing sunglasses…her hair was full of curls

and the minute she entered the store she waved, she smiled…and she twirled…

She ran right over to an orange book and held it over her head,

“Mommy, orange is my favorite color…let’s bought this book” she said.

“That book is orange but it’s not for children.” Her mom said.  

The little girl did not get mad

Instead she smiled and ran to the back of the store saying “I think I’ll go ask Dad.”

Dad agreed with Mom.and the little girl told me, “We’re not going to bought it.”

as she gently returned it back to the very shelf from which she got it.

Next she saw a Pokey Little Puppy shirt and she did what young children do

She said, “Mommy can we bought this…it’s my favorite color…blue.”

Again her mom refused and I must admit this is the best time, in a while, I’ have had

watching her run with the shirt to the back of the store saying, “I think I’ll go ask Dad.”

As she returned the blue shirt to the rack she found another and quickly changed her tune,

when she held it up and asked me, “What color?” I answered, “That one’s maroon.”

She smiled and said, “That’s my favorite color….Her third since she came in I might add

and clutching that maroon shirt to her chest she quickly ran to Mom and Dad.

As I witnessed the way her favorite colors changed I couldn’t help but feel glad

at the innocence of one so young…but also at the patience of her Mom and Dad.

They spoke to her respectfully, they didn’t get annoyed or mad…

I believe you can learn a lot about the child by watching Mom and Dad.

And as this little adventure unfolded before my eyes it was plain for me to see

just by watching her mom and dad…the kind of person she’ll grow up to be.

As they were leaving, with a book in hand, she stopped, she waved and she twirled…

and I found myself smiling as I waved goodbye…to one of my favorite little girls.

A COUPLE IN WHITE

 On a remote part of the beach we walk as the sun was bowing to the night

we happened upon a young couple having their picture taken…

A young couple dressed in white.

We smiled as we held each other’s hand…not too softly…not too tight.

remembering a day…over 30 years ago…

when we were that couple dressed in white.

And even though we are 30 years older and our hair is a lot more grey

I remember the feeling…

I remember that moment

as if it were yesterday.

As my mind wandered back to the couple in white

I saw her happiness bring her to tears

and I secretly wished they will be as happy

as we’ve been these past 30 years.

And I wanted to say to this couple in white

In their marriage…the older they grow

to be honest

to be kind

to be loving

to hold hands…and to never let go.

And if you’re lucky in 30 years you might be walking on this very beach

ss the sun once again bows to the night

and you might happen upon a young couple having their picture taken…

A young couple dressed in white.

And you’ll hold each other’s hand and you’ll smile…as older couples do

remembering a time…30 years ago…

when that young couple in white…was you.

EMPTY NEST

 Our children left the nest long ago…

It’s amazing how fast the years have gone by

but I don’t feel our nest has ever been empty…

and here’s my simple reason why:

I’ve always risen early…before the alarm starts beeping

before the sun pokes through the window…

while my family was still sleeping.

It’s a wonderful time…the morning…

because as the day rubs the night from its eyes…it seems

sitting alone…in the solitude…I could hear my family’s dreams.

Today I still wake early 

(Old habits are hard to break)

And though I no longer hear them dreaming…

as a walk through the house I make

I find the house is anything but quiet…

for on mornings such as these

the dreams that I once listened to…

have been replaced with memories.

It’s a wonderful thing…the morning

because as the day rubs the night from its eyes

You never know what memory

will rise up and come floating by…

And so I know this nest will never be empty…

no matter what time or what year…

because a nest can never be empty 

as long as their memories still live here.

SOMETHING WONDERFUL

 We all have our routines and habits in this world we are immersed…

from which side of the bed we sleep on…to which shoe we put on first.

Some of our routines make us feel safe…that’s what routines are for…

other routines fall by the wayside when we don’t need them anymore.

Like dinner time when our family was young…no meal would be complete

unless we looked around the table and saw everyone in their seat.

No seats were ever assigned…we would never think of that

It just became routine…we all had our places where we sat.

I’m not quite sure how it happens…

there’s a psychology to it I don’t doubt it

All I know is when I looked around the table…

there was something wonderful about it.

But children grow up…routines change…

and though at times it doesn’t seem fair…

there comes a day when we look around our table 

and our children are no longer sitting there.

Now, when they come to visit…

they finds seats wherever they are able

for as they bring their own families…

there are more seats around our table.

And it doesn’t matter who sits where…

as once again the meal is complete

when I look around the table and see everyone in a seat…

That there is a science…a psychology to this change…

again I do not doubt it…

All I know is when I looked around the table…

there is something wonderful about it.

A BLESSING IN DISGUISE

 If we’re lucky we have many blessings that throughout our life arise.

and sometimes the most wonderful of these are the blessings in disguise.

A time when things seemed to be falling apart at an extremely rapid pace

when…what we actually found…was they were falling into place.

A time when despite a misfortune…we kept going…we grew…we succeeded!

A time we did not get what we wanted…which was exactly what we needed.

A mistake that taught us a lesson, perhaps two…or even three.

A misfortune or a failure that turned into opportunity.

A defeat that didn’t stop us…because we persevered through our strife…

and learned a valuable lesson…how defeats are part of life.

How we can be resilient…how we can take a hit…

How a defeat can only define us…if and when we choose to quit.

A time we closed our eyes and wondered if we’d ever again experience life’s highs…

and when we opened them…to our amazement…we found a blessing in disguise.

Isn’t it amazing in life…that behind some of our misfortunes, 

some of our adversities…

our scares

If we look hard enough we can find a blessing hiding there.

Waiting patiently to help us overcome our darkness

when we have, in sadness, lost our sight.

Standing quietly in the background to lead us to the light.

And so today…in the midst of all our turmoil…

with every grief and misery that arise… 

as we search through the ruins left behind

may we find that blessing in disguise.

GRANDMA'S UMBRELLA

 There are some stories in a family…passed down from year to year

that are as much fun for us to tell…as they are for us to hear.

Grandma’s umbrella is one on these…”It’s my favorite!” She loves to say.

“It was given to me by your Grandpa…on our wedding day.”

She always smiles when she says that…remembering another time…way back when

and we always smile as we wait for her…to tell her story again.

And when she closes her eyes we know the story’s about to start….

as she repeats a tale she’s told a hundred times before…and one we know by heart

“He handed me this umbrella as we left our wedding just as it started to rain.

“This is the first gift I want to give you.” he smiled then said, “now let me explain.”

“Before tonight…before we were wed…before our stars aligned

when it rained you would put up your umbrella and I would put up mine.”

We were two individuals…with our own troubles…our own pain

and under our separate umbrellas…we took our chances in the rain

But now that we are married…as our life together will proceed 

whenever it’s raining in our life…one umbrella is all we’ll ever need.

“Under this umbrella…we will keep each other safe and dry and warm

Under this umbrella we can weather any storm.”

This is where Grandma opens her eyes saying…”And I want you kids to know..

this umbrellas is just like your Grandpa…two things I never will let go”.

“I know it’s old and weathered and isn’t as beautiful as it used to be…

here she laughs saying, “but you can say the same about your Grandpa and about me”.

This is where Grandpa likes to interrupt saying,

“How about we take a walk on down the lane…

and you better bring that old umbrella…because I think it looks like rain.”

And Grandma always winks at us as she’s done a thousand times before…

with one hand on her umbrella and the other holding Grandpa

as they both head out the door.

BRAVERY

 I’d like to think that I am brave…that in terms of bravery I’ve succeeded…

but when I look back on my life I wonder…how much bravery have I needed?

I’m a 67 year old white male…this is a good place to begin

as no one has ever hated me because of the color of my skin.

I’ve never been afraid to walk alone…I’ve never felt I wasn’t free

I’ve never had the chance to be brave in the face of bigotry.

I have never been abused, embarrassed or made to feel shame…

I’ve never had another person call me a derogatory name.

I’ve never had to be brave when someone attacked the God in whom I believe.

No one has ever questioned my religion…how I pray, or dress…or grieve.

I am heterosexual…It’s the way I was diagrammed…

I’ve never had to bravely say to the world…accept me for who I am.

I was a teacher…now retired…having spent a career in academics…

but I’ve never had to summon the bravery it takes…to teach in a pandemic.

I’ve never had the bravery to tell my family we could not pay our rent…

to look them in their eyes and say…our money’s all been spent.

I was not a nurse, a doctor , a policeman, a fireman or a soldier

I was never in the fray

I never had to show the bravery…these people exhibit every day.

I’ve had an easy and a wonderful life…I’ve enjoyed the ride upon this wave

and I am thankful because of who I am…I’ve never needed to be brave…

And I am grateful to all of you who have been…all you heroes I’ve seen made…

by doing what you know is right even when you've been afraid…

I shall always admire who you are…all of you

how your bravery inspires…how it stirs…

and I only hope that someday…

I can add my bravery to yours.

AS WE LIVE AND BREATHE

 Black…white…straight…gay…all those other letters too…

Christian…Muslim…Catholic…Atheist…and Jew.

Labels can be beneficial when we use them to help guild us

but they can also be a danger when we use them to divide us.

However there is one thing we all share no label can ever take away…

We were all created…all of us…to breathe in the same way.

Basically, from our first breath…from the moment of our birth

we become a part of the rhythm…of the heartbeat of the Earth.

And we keep right on breathing as one…with no need to classify

until the day our breathing stops…until the day we die.

In between our first and last breath…we keep breathing

It matters not if we’re  black, white, straight or gay…

if we are Christians, Muslims or Catholics…

we all breathe…about 20,000 times a day.

And the reason we continue breathing in and out…the lesson I believe

is to teach us life only works its wonders when we give as much as we receive.

Perhaps instead of looking to divide ourselves…

we’d do better to throw all those labels away…

and remember how the simple act of breathing

unites us everyday.

There is a harmony in how we breathe together

Black, white, straight, Gay…Catholic, Muslim or Jew….

Wouldn’t it be wonderful if there was that same harmony

In the way we lived together too?

WHEN THE LIGHT WENT OUT

 

It’s funny how someone can light up your life as they brighten your morning too.

It’s even funnier when it’s someone you never met…someone you never knew.

I never new this little old man…never knew his name

but I’d pass him every morning as our routines were the same.

As I reached his streetlight on my walk in the ebbing of the night

I would see him at his window Illuminated by his kitchen light.

In time a kind of friendship formed between us in the dwindling of the nights.

A nod turned into a smile and then a wave when we saw each other in the lights.

This was the extent of our friendship…It’s how our pieces fit

until the day, under his streetlight, I noticed his kitchen was unlit.

It remained unlit…and it was a week later when I finally tried

to check and see how he was doing…only to find out he had died.

I think about him when I pass his house

that he was my friend I have no doubt

but I never knew how much of a friend

or how much I’d miss him

until his light went out.

SHARING A SUNRISE

 In a world that stands divided

a division that seems to widen every day

I wonder if we should be watching more sunrises

to see how the different clouds and colors were meant to interplay.

We met another couple at our marina with whom we shared a sunrise.

Together we watched the clouds…and the colors changing before our eyes.

We greeted them when we arrived…keeping our voices low

then took our seats upon a bench where we would enjoy the show.

A sunrise is unlike any theater we’ve ever been in…any movie we’ve ever seen…

as we sit in silent wonder…watching nature’s giant 3-D screen.

When the colors finally faded…we took the time to chat…

The young woman smiled at us and said,

“Who knew God could paint like that”.

We agreed saying they should come back tomorrow

for with the next sunrise they see…

although the screen remains the same…God will paint it differently.

We smiled and waved as we said goodbye…

and as we continued on our daily route

I thought to myself I did not ask her what God she was talking about….

I did not care where she came from or where she might have been

I did not care if she was gay or straight or the color of her skin…

Because as we shared a sunrise

as we watched the clouds and colors change then scatter

watching the sunrise together was the only thing that mattered.

And so I wonder in a world divided

where we are anything but birds of a feather…

perhaps it’s not that we need to watch more sunrises…

but we need to watch more sunrises…together.

THAT SOMEONE

 When searching for the key to happiness 

It’s difficult to know exactly what to do

Sometimes I wonder if we should be looking

into our sadness too…

We should look for someone who knows our sadness

who can see the tear before it reaches our eye

for someone who accepts our sadness

who knows it’s okay to cry.

For someone who understand us

who can read our changing mood…or tone

who knows when we want to be held

and when we want to be left alone.

For someone who understands sadness has its own schedule

who knows what is at stake

someone who will sit beside us…and hold our hand

no matter how long we take.

For someone who knows when it comes to sadness

this lesson they have learned:

It is only through patience and love and understanding

that happiness will return.

And if you’re lucky you will find your happiness…

You’ll find that someone who

all the while you were looking for them

they were looking for you.

NATURE'S SECRETS

 We’ve all heard stories of those who climb to distant mountain tops

searching for their sages

hoping to find enlightenment and the wisdom of the ages

In our homes…our shops…our libraries…many a shelf is rife

with books on how to find peace and happiness…as well as the meaning of life.

But what if the meaning of life…of enlightenment or spiritual rebirth

does not lie with the sages or between the pages?

What if the answers are already embedded in the Earth?

The Earth has been around for billions of years

She’s seen many a sunset…many a dawn…

She was here long before we were born…and she’ll be here long after we are gone…

The Earth with nature have their secrets…it is part of their appeal

Secrets they put on display and are happily to reveal…

They teach us how to feel things we cannot see as we stand amidst a breeze

They teach us about sharing…how there’s no jealousy between the trees.

They teach us about freedom as we see birds soaring with open wings

Their rains teaches us to give back and their insects…to enjoy the little things.

Their mountains teach us patience we learn of surprises from their weather

We learn about change from their moon and their butterfly 

while their egrets and water buffaloes teach us how to work together.

We learn of beauty from their flowers…from their sun a morning greeting

They teach encouragement from their stars and from their clouds…how life is fleeting.

From everything below us…to everything above…

they teach us about balance…about generosity and love….

No, we don’t need to search for sages or between the pages of a book…

Nature has the answers…all we need to do…is look….

For billions of years she’s been trying to reveal her secrets. 

They’re around every bend and every turn.

For billions of years she’s been trying to teach us…

all we need is the willingness to learn.

A DAY AGO

 

We don’t often think about it…but deep inside…we know

how we are a different person than we were a day ago.

Each new day brings new experiences that somehow find a way

to subtly change

or drastically alter…

who we were yesterday.

From the time we watch the sun rise until the time we see it set

our hair has grown another day longer…

perhaps a new person we have met

Perhaps we were courageous….

perhaps we overcame our fears

Perhaps we shared some laughter…

Perhaps we shed some tears…

Perhaps we witnessed a baby’s birth

or the first time one walked or talked…or cried.

Perhaps we held somebody’s hand 

the moment when they died. 

Perhaps we learned a little something…

Perhaps we realized there is still so much to know…

Perhaps we are a little wiser today…than we were a day ago.

And if we’re lucky that wisdom will seep into our souls 

our minds 

our hearts…

as we become a different person

when tomorrow starts.

NOT A GIVE AND TAKE

 

Some people think that love is easy…

that it’s a piece of cake

as long as we remember…

that love's a give and take.

I think the heart is more fragile than that…

that’s it’s easy to bruise…

to break…

and though I do think love is something you give…

I don’t think it’s something you can take.

I think of love more as a gift.

A gift…that once declared

is to be opened up together…

to be cherished…

to be shared.

Which means if we want love to be easy

to be a piece of cake

then we must think of it as more…than a simple give and take.

For love to work as it is meant to work…

once it’s given…I believe

It’s not something you take

It’s something you receive