cronechronicler

You don't know where you are going. You don't know how to get there. And you arrive just the same. Ghanaian saying

Stories From My Kitchen Sink

As I look at my sink
Dishes stacked to be washed
Remind me of days long gone by
Each one tells me a story
A heart-warming moment its gift

Blue glass Starbuck’s mug
Harks back to first son
Long conversations we shared
While his baby son in car carrier slept
Mug greets my mornings today

The crinkly green juice glass
Sole remainder of set
Marks when I was pregnant
With son number two
Now I use it to take morning pills

Little brown bowl rounded out a set
For meals many years later shared
By third son a school teacher
And me living alone
Holidays celebrated in style

13 Comments »

A Different River

A quarter century ago
My first trip to Mexico
Time-share my new husband owned
Beginning of enchantment

Modest lodgings served us well
The grounds a garden wonderland
We dined at restaurants out-of-doors
Marble floors and colonnades

Mornings poolside began our days
Songs sung in Spanish set the beat
Reached crescendo by high noon
Time for water exercises

For many years and memories
I returned on pilgrimage
To a week I lived outdoors
My lease assured me many more

This place is etched deep in my soul
Place where family came to play
Wedding vows renewed on beach
Anniversaries toasted glass held high

Cousins gathered as family
Grew to soak up loving bonds
Making memories unbeknownst
Richly blessed are we all

Slowly I became aware
Grandchildren are college bound
Sons and wives have different plans
Even I am changing

It is time to say “Adios”.
What I hold dear is in the past
I’m oddly free to venture forth
Stepping into a new river

Now I can close my eyes and see
Pacific Ocean feel the breeze
Cooling at the end of day
Calm and lovely

22 Comments »

Haiku: Medium of Exchange

White plume of airplane
Rising high in a blue sky
Great day to travel

I have known such days
Packed with joyful adventure
Cup filled to the brim

Now I sip coffee
Watching flights from my window
Filled with gratitude

20 Comments »

Haiku: Tempo Change

Good Ship Lollipop
Shirley Temple all that jazz
Has already sailed

Daily Prompt: Lollipop

4 Comments »

Deja Vu

Early in the month of May five years ago I had “the talk” with my husband that got the wheels rolling for me to be sitting here at my computer telling this part of my story. For a great while my heart had longed to move to Cleveland and live near my family. And so on that sunny May day I gathered my courage and asked my husband to help me figure out how to make my dream a possibility. Of all the ways I expected him to reply he surprised me by immediately saying he would help me. He was aware that I had not been happy for a while, and neither was he. I remember the tenderness of this moment when we both acknowledged we were ready to let go of our marriage. I think it was one of our finest moments.

The next months were a whirlwind of making the arrangements necessary to pack up and begin my life anew. It was three months and two days after that talk that I arrived in Cleveland to stay. My time here has borne rich fruit. I spend good times close to family members, especially my growing grandchildren. We share in celebrations and hardships as a family. It is a precious surprise to find I have a life and friends of my own here. I have even allowed myself to enjoy the gift of being my own person apart from family members. I consider myself settled in my new home in every way. The other day it was a real jolt to discover strong feelings I still have for my former home.

Recently a couple of my friends and I went to a Book Discussion Day. We learned that Virginia Woolf’s novels influenced the writing of the featured author. One friend decided to read Woolf’s Mrs. Dalloway and explore this idea. She invited me to read the book and discuss it with her. I remembered that Virginia Woolf was one of the Bloomsbury school of writers. I also thought I remembered that the small group of town houses I called home in Chicago was called Bloomsbury Townhomes. To check my memory I Googled the name Bloomsbury and my street address. Suddenly there appeared on my computer screen pictures of the sidewalk in front of my house and a low brick wall beside it. I could see the Jewish Day Nursery and its playground across the street from me. The sound of children always made me happy. Seeing these familiar scenes took my breath away. My chest tightened and I cried. I could not believe what I was feeling. I thought I had said good-bye to Chicago. I had packed up and moved the things that really mattered. My dream of living close to my¬†family was a reality. So why was I overcome with emotion ?

I could leave my husband. I could let go of almost all my books, many household items – mine and some that were my mother’s, clothes and even furniture and never look back. What I could not erase was the sense of place that encompassed me and the home I inhabited for almost twenty years. I will never want to erase living through good times and growing pains¬†that I experienced there. It has found its place inside me as part of my whole. I am grateful.

17 Comments »