The Little Crooked House

There was a little house
Great Grandma lived inside
Whilst stepping through the door
The floor she could not hide.

It had a little hill
And a valley came up next
The undulating movement
Left us feeling quite perplexed.

Up and down the floor did pitch
With curves of every kind
How the furniture stayed in place
Nearly blew my mind.

Up then down and back again
This floor did seem to wave
Around the house it did not stop
Convex and then concave.

We sat a visited quietly
Then hugged Grandma at the door
Why bless her heart we took with us
The memory of her crooked floor.

Rain's Gifts

The rain fell.
Leaving behind slippery walks
muddy ground
and puddles.

I walk carefully on the concrete walk
hoping beyond all else
that I may not slip and fall.
Slick it is, and grace
is not in my realm of being.

My son, sees not the danger in falling
the possibility of hurting himself
nor the humiliation of the event.
The idea of walking around
with a wet smudge on the backside
of his britches is not one of embarrassment
but instead a badge of honor.

He slides... as far as he can,
holding tightly to my arm
with both his small hands
giddily giggling as we go.
In painful slow motion I watch
down he goes
I grab for him
trying to cushion his fall.
His belly laughs befall us
as my heart lingers in my throat.
Up he goes
to his feet
to try it again.

Puddles appear in front of us.
Sloshing is not in his mind.
The glistening of the sun
peeking out behind a cloud
amuses him most
as reflections dance on the surface.
Visions of color and rainbows capture him;
he moves in and out to see new shades
and shapes appear in the puddle.
He smiles at the glistening of the water.

Onward we trod
each step taking us closer
to the destination I had in my mind.
Not so much the one he was envisioning.
I see it... and can only sigh
I know what is coming.
He is running now,
full speed ahead...
Mud.

Does he jump? No. He doesn't.
I would have expected one of the other boys...
actually, all of the three older boys
and even perhaps one of his sisters,
to jump in and drench their jeans and shoes.
This child, surprizes me.
He did not jump.
He squats, and runs a hand through the silt
feeling the grit and the smoothness
running it through his fingers
looking it over and over
front and back of his hand
only to stick his hand back in it and emphatically
remark... "EWWWWWW!!!"

I look at him with surprise.
Ewwww? I wonder what he is thinking.
He giggles and in two words makes all things clear
"Peanut Butter."
A curiosity envelops me
and I join him.
Running one hand into the mud
feeling the slippery mud
pulling my hand carefully up,
letting the grit and the smoothness
run through my fingers.
He is right,
indeed, it is peanut butter.

I smile at him as I take him by the clean hand
words are not neccessary
as we have learned his direction
is easily diverted .
We go inside and wash up.

I reflect at this short journey.
One taking a mere 10 minutes of my day;
one he will not be able to tell daddy about later...
the limitations of his Autism
will indeed make sure of that.
A moment in time, shared with only me....
Forever locked away in his mind,
Forever cherished in my heart.

Release

"There is a release that comes when conquoring the unknown, giving freedom and flight beyond your wildest dreams." ~CM Beauty Johnson


As I begin a new chapter in my life, I can't help but be a little fearful, excited, and yet regretful all at the same time. Afraid of the unknown, excited about the possibilities that lie before me, and regretful of the goals that fell by the wayside missing their own accomplishing moments in this journey.

Stepping forward I see a wealth of opportunities. Spiritual growth is an important part of this journey, and dictates where I will one day end up when all is said and done. I see milestones of my children as they jump from childhood into adulthood, and I look back at how quickly the time has passed. How I wish I could savor just one more moment of that 3 year old daughter (now age 20) who clumsily ran the bases of the baseball diamond in the wrong direction, or that 2 yr old son (now age 19) who would climb on top of anything without a fear in the world. I look into the eyes of my 16 yr old and see a man on the verge of breaking through and just wanting to hold it off for a while longer. I see a young teen struggling for his place between childhood and responsibility, with my heart wanting to scream out "Pick Childhood!!!" My 7 yr old daughter, a little mother herself. I see in her all the things she sees in me and pray for the guidence to be a good example, as I know she is always watching and learning. My 6 yr old Autistic son... the one who will undoubtedly stay young the longest. He brings a unique joy to our family and to my heart like no other. The world seen through his perspective... a new and exciting wonder. Lastly and surly not least... the 9 month old grandson. Oh how my heart leapt as I became for the first time 'Gramma'. You think your cycle is over in the regards of child rearing when you have your last... and then there is the joy of grandparenting. A new adventure in its own right.

I look at my friendships. I see those who come along for short times and bless my life by just having known them. I have friends who are lifelong... these are few... but are a richness beyond measure. New friends that I know not what their station will become, but for now have been a comfort and companionship as we find where the road takes us.

So today, I ready myself for the Release. The letting go of old hurts, the wiping away of negativity, the discarding of failures. It's a time of release in every sence... a time to begin and to embrace challenges and to really put my heart and self into them... so in the next 40 years I can feel the accomplishments more than failures, and be ready to move forward to an awaiting celestial glory.