Memories Are For Keeps

The present is for making new ones.......

But it is also colored by memories from my past.

These memories from my past, that live on in my heart, make me who I am today. A little more able to be and to do...........A little less able to be and to do..........

Life is a process.....birth and death......every happening has a little of each in it.

You can't force either one. Like a flower blossoming in its own time and season.....

We have to patiently live out the Moment.....dying to.....being born to.....

A Special Tribute To Dads Who Cook

Wollf left a comment on my food blog which opened the door for many wonderful memories to walk across my mind today. I had great fun reliving food experiences with my Dad.

He worked six days a week, and had a quick breakfast on these days; but on his day off (Sundays) he liked to cook. He would start out by putting coffee on to perk and then prepare himself some bacon and eggs. This tradition continued long after we all married and left home. When we vacationed at home, many of us would make sure we were up out of bed in time to have breakfast cooked for us by Dad.

After breakfast, he would throw together a batch of whole wheat rolls to serve with the roast beef he was going to cook for Sunday dinner.

Shortly before I got married, he started making clam chowder for supper on Friday nights. I was the only other person in the house who would eat clam chowder, so he would make a small batch for the two of us. For many months after I got married, I would walk back up home on Friday nights just to join him for chowder night.

In later years he started having some Saturdays off and he got into making pizza or lasagne or sweet and sour spareribs; but those memories belong to some of the younger children. I know about them but was rarely there to be a part of them.

We seem to take for granted those endless meals our mothers prepare for us while treasuring the few that our fathers prepare.

My second husband endeared himself to my grown daughter and two granddaughters by cooking them their own special pancakes every now and then shaped in their initials. They felt so loved every time he did this for them.

And until he died, Christmas mornings were special because he and my son would cook breakfast for us "womenfolk". Needless to say, it became the most special breakfast of the year.

Bet you Dads didn't realize what long-lasting memories you are creating in the kitchen.

An Echo From The Past

Together on a toboggan
a full moon lighting up the sky
the stars twinkle in amusement
as this quiet, self-contained man
calls out her name -
flying down a hill of snow -
his arms wrapped around her waist.

An awesome experience....

But even more so
when years after he is gone
from her world,
the Echo reaches her
and stokes the cooling embers
of his Love.

An Echo
that lifts her
from a waiting casket
transporting her
over the rainbow
to a resplendent field of daisies.
She fills her pockets
and then gets on
with the task of Living.

Shadow Dancer

Wayfaring stranger
gypsy that you are
coal black eyes
red hot blood
and a soul that longs to be free.

Not for you a wasted life
shackled
by invisible chains of security.

Walking on the water
dancing on the wind
making love beneath the stars.

Then with the coming
of the morning dew
you are gone
leaving me alone again.

Mendacity

Your voice caresses my ears
and teases my senses.
It wraps itself around me like a cloak
so gentle, so inviting ...
It angers me
this false seduction of yours;
this invitation your voice implies
which you do not mean.