Autumn is a time to play in leaves so crisp and cool spring is off in the distance when kids do work in school The first flower to show its bud might be the lovely mum The second gift from mother earth are apples, so yum yum Maple trees have given us its sweet and sticky sap A season for every family and sit in pappa’s lap Sun is setting early now and kids get tucked in tight For many of the holidays during fall occur at night.
This week, I would like to invite you to explore just these patterns; if it was up to me I would say focus on the cute, little ones in yourself, your kin and those around you that you generationally and environmentally inherited or passed on, but you can likewise touch up on those that frighten you or make you question things.
Just a brief overview of my family…
On my dad’s side: I never met my grandfather as he had already passed away before I was born. My dad never said much about him but implied he was a hard worker. My grandmother died when I was a young child and I can remember her a little but mostly her sitting in a wheelchair in a nursing home in Brooklyn, NY. My father had a wife and two daughters before he married my mother and had me, my sister and my little brother.
On my mom’s side: My mother passed away when I was 23. We were close and it was especially hard to get married and have two babies without her. I remember her so vividly, yet I can’t remember her at all. My grandfather passed away when I was little. I have one memory of him; we were sitting at a picnic table out in the yard. That’s is all I have. My grandmother passed away when I was maybe 10. I remember a lot more about her. I can picture her house and how it smelled. All the crap she had everywhere! I got that from her!
I inherited a lot from both of my parents and now that my father is in my care and more like a child (due to the dementia and Alzheimer’s) I am seeing things that we do the same and it is weird! My mother was great at everything she did and I try to be like she was. When she made something, whether it was food, some sort of craft, or a Halloween Costume, it was perfect. Now, as you may know I craft daily. I also don’t cut corners and make sure all of my things are done correctly and nicely. I love to cook, also from my mom. I used to make my kids matching clothes when they were little, actually using my mom’s machine! She was a strong woman but loving. Everyone loved her and she was helpful to everyone no matter what. My mother worked with my father most of my younger life and then she worked as a teacher’s aide in elementary school up until she passed away. She was 50. She detested lying and sneaking around and had no tolerance for being nasty to one another. I am really like her in this way too. My dad was a hard worker. He would tell stories about sticking gum on the end of a stick to get the coins out of gutters in Brooklyn as a kid. He also ran deliveries for shop owners to get money for movies and treats. He sold insurance (home, auto) and was a real estate broker. When my father wasn’t at the office he was either in the yard or in his favorite chair. He read the paper every day from front to back. He had a garden that is probably as big as the footprint of my present home (which is fairly small at only 1200+ square feet). He grew everything you can imagine and my sister and I would grab our wagon and pick vegetables so we could walk up and down the street selling them. He never said a word, but I can imagine he would have liked some of his own produce! I think I get my stamina from him, the get-up-early and work-until-dinner type of stamina.
What things I see now that my dad and I have almost exactly alike: 1. some of our physical issues – so now I wonder if he has psoriatic arthritis that never got diagnosed. 2. Our mannerisms when we are sitting and waiting for something or someone. Not fidgety but there is noticeable body language. 3. His sense of humor. 4. How he blows his nose (I wasn’t going to add it but it’s almost uncanny). 5. Problems swallowing – we both always feel like we have something in our throats.
Atop our belvedere, I can view the lake below home to many ducks blowing bubbles as they go Behind my chair I hide the scene glued from long ago A swatch of ugly wallpaper I never want to show Each time I see the wall I catapult through space wondering who the audience was who thought it was the case that walls belonged to them, with horrid pictures of trees and flowers, birds and nests, and all of the above. So now I sit and ponder what life would be without this ugly wall behind me, I get so mad I want to shout! I want to make it pretty with some other sort of stain And perhaps a silky painting in a circular-type frame I just want to enjoy a touchdownright and relaxed and dream about tomorrow as I rest here on my ass. I think I’m going to make a new tradition with the ducks Just let me take your eggs and I’ll leave them other stuff like bread and fruit from home or tiny little seeds Anything they want and really anything they need.
I remember the day that I made my pledge with a smile on my face, all my words had an edge No major life changes, abundant success No longer a kid, I greedily confess For they have a slight trace of disturbed verity A high on their horse most boisterously But for me in my world a forest full of delight only minor complications, no hate and no spite My oration half over, like caramel in milk Sinking and swirling cream covered silk A sweet wintergreen with a flat outer shell All things I think of, but I never tell Instead I say things that sound masterly My confidence rippled like a stone thrown to sea.
Is it so archaic that I’m the one to blame? Parking in the basement, basically in shame Of my bargain lunch box that holds a shriveled bun And in that bun a hot dog, a holiday undone Its like a queen’s old bishop in a game of chess You may call this fiction, a myth no more or less But here I am a witness to unlikely coping skills A candidate not winning, a shelf with no more pills. It curbs my enthusiasm and makes my poor head ache To live my life on this scale, I wish I had a break. So now I sit and eat here, wanting no one else to see That all this really is now is a pity show for me.
I was having a dinner when a few of my friends, the closest ones here, when noise softly begins I suddenly realized that the noise was from me I was enthusiastic As they all could see I looked up at the trees with the shape of a fan pulchritude clearly exciting sight for a man The orangey sky glowed a deep, murky hue in my behavioral coma I thought just what to do I crossed the small yard and leaned on the gate a square metal lock hanging from a small plate I yanked at the lock but it was fixed up real tight so I bid them farewell and said to all them, “goodnight”
He was active, unkind and sort of a jerk unhappy in life, for nothing he’d done Acting deftly a prig but really below with a derelict attitude of everyone He’d rip you to pieces and shout out in joy while jotting long notes in his book With a thunderous whoop and low greasy laugh pouring out poison each time his hand shook Bounding out of his house and way down the street Grabbing things that were not of his own Like a big nasty dog with brown gnarly teeth being teased from a huge juicy bone. When his life had become a big sloppy mess He asked his friends what was the root They came all undone and laughed right out loud Giving their friend a quick and a hard boot. He cried out in pain and tried to run fast toward a pier from this maddening crowd But he didn’t know that his past had come back And they weren’t afraid to shout at him loud. They said, “You’re a jerk! You’re not very nice and we’re tired of all your bad crap.” He looked at the group with awe in his eyes Be he was smart to keep shut his big flap.
Tauten your tie put on your vest No being furtive just be your best Creativity abounds a human response like bread needing yeast never kneaded enough The whole of your being like dough in your hand you sculpt yourself perfect to be such a man.