The drive took 8 1/2 hours with only one stop to fill up the gas tank and to get an iced mocha and a Rice Krispy treat as a snackish meal to avoid making a time consuming stop. When I blew through Nashville without any significant delays, this should have been the signal flag that I was in traffic trouble in Chattanooga and Atlanta.
Standstill traffic in each of those two cities set me back by two hours – about an hour each with stop and go brake lights and watching the rear view mirror in case I needed to brace myself for a texting driver not paying attention. I finished my audiobook and talked to family on the phone, catching up from the few days I was away.
I made the trip Friday night from Georgia to Tennessee, and on Saturday morning from Tennessee to Kentucky. Although it’s a long and tiring trip, especially driving it alone and at night, it has been worth every second for all the joy and excitement! I’m here in Western Kentucky, just a few minutes from Indiana, to celebrate the forthcoming arrival of my new grandson, Silas Haynes Neal. He’s something of a triple miracle ~ his parents overcame their own personal struggles, and then their best choices led them to each other. They found love. They found blessing. They drew two families together to love this little bud on our family tree who will surely have us all wrapped up in his sweetness and charm before long.
Their first dates were picnics and hikes here in Yellow Creek Park, so this is where they chose to be showered with blessing again. I noticed children swinging, playing on the playground, laughing and stealing with delight as I drove into the entrance of this park. What a fitting place – a place holding the history of their own romance and the future of their son’s play. An outdoorsy place that stamps the love of nature and outdoors right into the imprint of his name’s meaning – Silas Haynes Neal (woodland) – and the theme of the nursery – – woodland friends. A place where the grandmothers embraced wearing jeans and woodland colors, keeping the festivities relaxed and simple, focused on others like two Marys in a Martha world. The very things we hope for our grandson.
But we did do a Martha thing or two. The first gift was a knife and cake server set, engraved with his name, to be used from the baby shower to the birthday cakes to the wedding cake and any other cakes throughout his life. There will always be a memory of the grandmothers at celebrations – – grandmothers who, from before his first breath, prayed and hoped for his happy future with much to celebrate, even when we are no longer here to cut the cake.
gift from his grandmas~
a personalized cake knife
engraved with his name
for celebrations
through all of his lifelong years
to know he belongs
a child loved, wanted
here on the family tree
woven into the
personalities,
yarns of who we are, taking
our bloodlines as his
And I hope, truly hope, that his fun side shines through – – that someday, just like his father, he takes the silver elastic band from a gift and puts it on his head and smiles on – because that’s where the joy is found, in being a little silly and not too rigid and serious.
I’ve extended my stay to be able to enjoy more outdoor experiences and beauty of nature with these two today. We’ll visit the Western Kentucky Botanical Gardens and stroll through the pleasant breezes forecast for the day. The leaves are just beginning to change, and the feel of fall is crisp in the air. It’s a perfect day for all the best that life has to offer!
I made the trip late Friday night, leaving work at 4 p.m. and planning to drive to Chattanooga before stopping to sleep. Even though there have been two major hurricanes in the Southeast in the past week or so, I hadn’t predicted the fully booked impact on hotels. There was no room in the inns for me. Not in Chattanooga, not in Manchester, not in the second exit after Manchester. It wasn’t until Murfreesboro that I found the proverbial “one last room,” and I eagerly and exhaustedly took it, continuing the rest of the trip yesterday morning after a restful sleep.
My worst fears flashed when I got to Owensboro to check in for a few days here, only to be told at the first hotel that they were booked. Thankfully, I found a room on the second attempt at a nearby hotel and checked in after a full day of scouting for fruit and vegetable trays, baby game prize gifts, and the perfect woodland-colored jumper and sweater set to show off the little one growing in my daughter’s cute belly.
This baby is a healing miracle for her and for her love. They found each other, despite all odds of their challenging journeys, and two families come together today to help them prepare to become not only a couple, but also a family.
The grandmothers got together to give our Silas a cake knife and slice server engraved with his name: Silas Haynes Neal. This set will be used at his baby shower and at his birthday parties in years to come, with the hopes that he will also use it as he cuts the groom’s cake at his own wedding someday – and we hope that if we are no longer here to be physically present, then there will at least be some small part of us present in spirit on that day as he celebrates.
For today, we are here and we are anticipating his arrival at the end of 2024. We couldn’t be happier!
Anna Roseboro of Michigan is our host today for our fifth and final day of the August Open Write. Anna encourages us to walk through poetry from #VerseLove 2024 and apply the TIME acronym to the elements of a poem and construct a verse about one of our choice. You can read her full prompt here. I chose Stacey Joy’s Our Old Kitchen Table to think about these elements in her poem and to write about each.
Time
Imagery
Music
Emotion
Tabletime Tempos
Through all these tender table times In games, gatherings, cartoons, showers, Meals, drumrolls of dice and laughter and tears against the backdrop of time ticking Emanating life tempos tintinnabulated and tolled, thus told around the old kitchen table
Today is my birthday, and already it has started better than I’d expected! I awoke to a birthday song recording from a member of my writing group and birthday cake on the counter. I’ve spent quiet time writing and watching birds, and the dogs are snuggled, fast asleep, next to me. The best part? I have no looming deadlines or plans today. I can write, I can read, I can drink coffee and eat cake and enjoy the day off here way back in the woods at home.
What’s better than that for a birthday?
Perhaps this is the best day of all to say thank you to YOU if you are reading this blog post. I experience life more richly when I can write about it and share the stories with those who read about it. Thank you, friends, for all the joys of another journey around the sun!
Our host today at http://www.ethialela.com for Day 10 of #VerseLove2024 is Joanne Emery, who inspires us to borrow ideas and lines from another poem to inspire our own. You can read her full prompt here, along with the poems and comments of others.
She explains her process: Find a line in the poem that stands out to you, expresses something about yourself. Then continue the poem while reflecting how you live your life.Â
We used Jane Hirschfield’s poem My Life Was the Size of My Life, and I borrowed this line from hers:
and closed its hands, its windows
I also chose one from Joanne’s poem Larger than My Life
Special Thanks to Two Writing Teachers for inspiring writers, especially sleepless ones.
#messages in the madness
The melatonin was working fine, just fine, I thought, but I figured either we had a rogue sound machine with broken buttons or that one of the machines was possessed. I kept hearing things, but my husband didn’t. Just like when the car starts making a sound, only not a car but a tiny little white noise machine.
So finally, finally – – he in his melatoninlessness began hearing mysterious sounds, too. I didn’t know whether to cry, be scared, or celebrate.
If your children tell you they hear funny voices at night, believe them and check the sound machine. They’re in there.
My oldest grandson turns 14 today. Last year, we went on a fishing trip together. This year, he went skiing with his youth group in West Virginia. Time is flying, and we love the time we share with him. Here he is, loving life.
I’m missing my hairdresser and friend of 18 years, who died in May 2021. In our small town, everyone knows everyone, and my former hairdresser’s son is a school teacher in my district. I see her young grandson in one of our buildings, and I see so much of her in him. It reminds me to treasure every single moment. Tomorrow holds no guarantees for any of us. April 30 was National Hairstylist Appreciation Day, and I’m sending up a belated appreciation to Heaven for my friend and miracle-worker Penny.
Be Like Leo
how could I have known
sitting in front of the mirror
in your swivel chair
as you snipped split ends
that by the next haircut
you’d be walking
down your hall, laughing,
talking one moment
and fall over and die the next
leaving your husband
your children
your grandchildren
your dog
smiling through their
knotty tears
scattering your ashes
a mile off shore from
your favorite spot in Florida
then all getting
GPS tattoos of your
final destination points
how could I have known
that one month shy
of two years later
your husband would suffer
a heart attack and die, too,
leaving two young married sons
their wives
your grandchildren
anchorless
and your banana-loving
goldendoodle
masterless
searching for her people
ferrying out to sea once again
to scatter more ashes
how could I have known
that unexpected tears
out of nowhere would well up
in my eyes when
your little grandson Leo arrived
for his first day of preschool
hair tousled
half-crooked smile
an image of you
(only not the hair, not the hair)
backpacked-out like a rocket man
his tiny hands clinging tight
to his lunch
something he could hold onto
and that I let the tears fall for a moment
then took his picture on his first day
of big school
sent it to his daddy
in his science classroom
at the middle school
greeting those who’d
surely lost grandparents, too
only not this young
Your mama would be so proud
I texted him
I still have that picture
and more like it that I take
whenever I see sweet Leo
like yesterday
when the teacher was
giving the hero compliment
to the line leader, who stood
with one hand on a hip,
the other pressing a pointer finger
over his lips
still and quiet
(he knows a lot about that)
telling the others,
I like how Leo is leading.
He’s quiet.
He’s not touching anybody.
Let's see if we
can be like Leo.
how could I have known
that would be
the last time I
sat in your
chair?
