11-3-10...JUST SOME THOUGHTS
This time of year is always so hard for me. Memories of what was and never will be again come pouring in so fast I can't contain them. The rest of the year is much easier because my mind can overpower the bad with the sweet memories of my youth. I can reach in the deep part of my heart and pull out such beautiful memories that sustain me. The four months coming up make that very hard to do. November, December, January, and February always tear down that wall of protection I have placed on my heart. The glue that holds breaks and the cracks of my heart no longer holds. The memories that overflow my being now are Dark and foreboding, harsh and cruel. This should be a peaceful and serene time. The year coming to an end, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and a fresh new year beginning. It should be and is usually for many. I tried so hard for so many years to make it so for me. I finally gave up and decided to just roll with the flow so to speak. Live for today. Yesterday has passed me by, I can't fix it. Tomorrow will come and I'll deal with that, tomorrow. Can't fix that today either.
So if the memories that come to me today aren't pleasant so be it. They are mine to do with as I please. They happened to me, I dealt with them then and I will deal with them now. I must deal with them in my way, and in my time. If I cry, I cry. If I pull in and discuss things with my best friend, Who is God, and just stay quiet and alone then that is the way I handle it that day. My best friend is always there and He Listens when no one else will. Today I have chosen to come to my un-seen friends all over this big and great world and open my heart. I'm sad and my heart is hurting. Soon after Christmas is my only Child's Birthday. Richard loved Christmas and Thanksgiving. His gray eyes would sparkle and dance. Richard never asked for much. I'll never forget the time he came to me with a catalog and asked, “Mamma do you have enough money to get me these three things for Christmas”? I didn't know how but I knew I would move Heaven and Earth to get those things for him, and I did. So while my memories of Richard are sweet and precious they still tug hard at my heart. They make me vulnerable to hurt and I cry a lot. If I seem to be neglecting my friends and family it is not intentional. It will pass. Please bear with me.
FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL
I washed your sweet face and kissed tears from your eyes.
Let you do some things while I sat and cried.
I doctored skinned knees and cooked favorite meals.
Only a Mother could know how it feels.
I watched you grow and guided your first steps.
Had to turn loose when you no longer needed my help.
I baked a million cookies and poured the pop.
As long as I lived I never wanted to stop.
I sat many nights beside you when you were ill.
Then Prayed my Thanks to God, you were once again well.
As I watched you cry or watched you at play.
I didn't think of the time when you'd be away.
I liked to watch your every move, catching you before you fall.
Choosing your friends for you.
The day I watched you go off to school, me crying like a fool.
Never knowing then that worse was to come.
I was to lose you for good, my only Son.
I still cry, but you are still here with me it seems.
You are here in my heart, You are here in my dreams.
I miss you so much, but you're here in a way
You left Mama so much behind
like sweet things you would say.
Your smile is in the stars that twinkle in the night.
I see your sweet face in the sun smiling and bright.
I feel your touch in a puppy so fluffy and sweet.
Your kiss in the whisper of a breeze on my cheek.
Clydene Overbey 1988
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
YESTERDAY'S DREAMS
11-2-10...YESTERDAY'S DREAMS
It seems like most days now I go running down that dirt road that leads to a dead end. There is black shale on that road and I am barefoot. I don't notice the sharp shale grinding in to my feet or that my feet have become black and maybe hot from the sunshine. All I see is two houses to the left of me and a train going by on the track at the very end. The house's are very close, In hollering distance. There might be a couple of kids in each yard but most likely there will be four kids in one of the yards together. Sometimes those kids might be squabbling over something but most times they are laughing and playing together.
As I get a little closer my heart beats in anticipation and fills with longing to hurry and be there in their midst. A big Collie dog with a limp comes to welcome me with his tail wagging so fast that his whole body is moving.
At the second house I see a woman on the porch calling to the kids to come on in “supper's ready”. She doesn't have to persuade them much, they've been playing hard all day and they are hungry.
I think to myself, Well she didn't ask me but she looks so welcoming I know she won't mind so I go on in and get ready for supper with all the rest. There are some more folks who also come to the door and they are welcomed as the Woman says 'Sit down and I'll get you a plate. There is plenty.
There is a square home made table that I know that kind tired looking man made with his hammer, hand saw, and nails. An oilcloth is covering the rough lumber. It has yellow daisies covering it and I think it is so pretty.
On the table is a large pan of pinto beans with some kind of meat in them sometimes but usually not. There is a huge bowl of fried potatoes and I know no one will ever fry potatoes as good as those. A big skillet of cornbread sits on a dishrag piping hot, a bowl of red sliced onions and that is usually all there is.
The floor of the kitchen is not level. In fact the table is slanted so far on the uneven floor that the girl knocks over a glass of something and it runs right down in to the lap of the man across from her. He jumps up and the lady starts cleaning up the mess.
I'm thinking, Boy that girl is in trouble now but strangely the man and woman just smile at her and say “Eat your supper honey, and be more careful”.
What a beautiful scene all of this is as it flashes through my mind. So real that I can feel the dirt on my feet and smell the beans and cornbread, fried taters and red onions. Only to realize that here I sit looking out at a very different scene, and none of that is real. Kind of sad until I remember that I can go again anytime I wish and once again be drawn in to that wonderful place that I can call mine. This makes me smile as my heart fills with such wonderful memories of a place exactly like that. Knowing that I grew up there and it all was and is mine makes me overflow with gratitude.
It seems like most days now I go running down that dirt road that leads to a dead end. There is black shale on that road and I am barefoot. I don't notice the sharp shale grinding in to my feet or that my feet have become black and maybe hot from the sunshine. All I see is two houses to the left of me and a train going by on the track at the very end. The house's are very close, In hollering distance. There might be a couple of kids in each yard but most likely there will be four kids in one of the yards together. Sometimes those kids might be squabbling over something but most times they are laughing and playing together.
As I get a little closer my heart beats in anticipation and fills with longing to hurry and be there in their midst. A big Collie dog with a limp comes to welcome me with his tail wagging so fast that his whole body is moving.
At the second house I see a woman on the porch calling to the kids to come on in “supper's ready”. She doesn't have to persuade them much, they've been playing hard all day and they are hungry.
I think to myself, Well she didn't ask me but she looks so welcoming I know she won't mind so I go on in and get ready for supper with all the rest. There are some more folks who also come to the door and they are welcomed as the Woman says 'Sit down and I'll get you a plate. There is plenty.
There is a square home made table that I know that kind tired looking man made with his hammer, hand saw, and nails. An oilcloth is covering the rough lumber. It has yellow daisies covering it and I think it is so pretty.
On the table is a large pan of pinto beans with some kind of meat in them sometimes but usually not. There is a huge bowl of fried potatoes and I know no one will ever fry potatoes as good as those. A big skillet of cornbread sits on a dishrag piping hot, a bowl of red sliced onions and that is usually all there is.
The floor of the kitchen is not level. In fact the table is slanted so far on the uneven floor that the girl knocks over a glass of something and it runs right down in to the lap of the man across from her. He jumps up and the lady starts cleaning up the mess.
I'm thinking, Boy that girl is in trouble now but strangely the man and woman just smile at her and say “Eat your supper honey, and be more careful”.
What a beautiful scene all of this is as it flashes through my mind. So real that I can feel the dirt on my feet and smell the beans and cornbread, fried taters and red onions. Only to realize that here I sit looking out at a very different scene, and none of that is real. Kind of sad until I remember that I can go again anytime I wish and once again be drawn in to that wonderful place that I can call mine. This makes me smile as my heart fills with such wonderful memories of a place exactly like that. Knowing that I grew up there and it all was and is mine makes me overflow with gratitude.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)