Archive for December 2009

How to say goodbye…?

December 30, 2009

The year is rushing headlong toward a new year. I’ve had such a year, saying goodbye is of two minds inside my head: I was enthralled when my book offer came, way beyond my scale of excitement when I first held a copy of my book, and on the first book signing day…I remember nothing about getting dressed, or how I got to the book store, or even what I said to my friends, and buyers of my book. I only remember on leaving the store and pushing my face back into place; and pulling in my lips that seemed to have found new boundaries across my chin; I was still in the land of euphoria at bedtime and reluctant to let sleep mark the end of my day. On the other hand, the new year starts with another book signing, and I hope to speak to still more book clubs. Also, I’ve new ideas waiting impatiently in one corner of my mind; the words call to me, asking for their day in print…and so, let the year begin, let a new story have its day.

It’s two days after Christmas

December 27, 2009

Two days after Christmas, the tree is still in place, the lights are on, and packages, opened and unopened (friends out of town), cover the area next to the tree. I looked at it last night from the front yard, and with the dark all around me, the lighted tree winked a ‘welcome.’  And that is another reason I leave the tree up far into January, its brightness warms everything in the fringes, and most of all…me! It reminds me of the Holy Birth, when the stars lit the manger and the face of a small Baby who would change the world; my tree, in its own small way, gives off a bit of that same feel of love, forgiveness, and ‘come sit a while, only friends reside here.’  Happy New Year, Elizabeth.

7 days…and counting

December 18, 2009

Seven days and then it will be Christmas morning. It used to get an early start with my son and daughter waking early and wanting the day to get into what Christmas means for little ones: unwrap packages, do not read the tags (so I’d have to scoop up the paper and check), that gift is put aside, and the next package is being attacked by eager hands, squeals, and laughing as Shermie, our dachshund gets into the melee. That was then.

Both are married with families, little ones, and pets, and way to the other side of the states.

I wrote this poem one year…it tells this very tale.

Handle With Care

The table beckons with its holiday feast,

Christmas stockings decking a black iron railing,

an evergreen overflowing with gifts and toys,

in a room once filled with laughter and noise.

Shadows of yesterday haunt me with its plaintive call,

fate reigns triumphant in life’s fickle flight,

and time wings without warning, unraveling,

incessant…as day into night.

It’s Christmas again, the beginning anew,

our table is set…tho’ only for two,

the room less festive yet lain out as before,

with a tree dazzling and splendid–but gifts are few.

Two Christmas stockings now hang with a gallant bravado,

while our children build memories with families of their own,

“Savor each memory–mark ‘Handle with Care,’

for the time, when they too–will be only a pair.

by Elizabeth Towles