Sounds of Hope

The last few days have been like sweet and sour sauce.   I’m not a fan of sweet and sour Chicken or similar dishes.   I’m more of a sweet hot person.   I love pepper jelly and make my own.   Nothing brings a smile to my taste buds like some hot pepper jelly on a gluten free sesame cracker with some lactose free cream cheese.   I don’t indulge in this culinary delight as often as I’d like because frankly, once I start, I keep eating. But sweet and sour is a better description of my experiences over the last few days.   Rarely do I get to see more than one or two of my children at a time.   Over the last few days, five of my children were gathered in one place.   It was so sweet to be able to see them, give them hugs, and share a meal with them.   This always delights me and brings the sweetest of memories. Like the cherry on the top, I got to see my youngest grandchild, a little princess named Phaenyx (Phoenix) ElsieDawn.   I held her...

Have you ever looked at a Kaleidoscope? When I was a kid, I loved those cardboard tubes with the hole on one side. Magnificent colors and design flooded my eyes as I peered into that hole. A twist to the right changed the visual display and a turn to the left yet another. Perhaps because I was a child before the internet – long before the internet – such a simple object could bring such delight.  Today, I am looking in a kaleidoscope of dark colors and painful memories. Each little piece of brilliant colors and changes of light has turned into torturous memories of previous pain. Each piece familiar and each piece dim. Someone else is turning the wheel. It is spinning out of control.  Death of a grandchild, I revisit that pain. Each layer of pain is now compounded by the most recent loss. I grieve not just this precious young man, but his brother, and his little cousin who was the first to go. Then I think of a beautiful great granddaughter whose life was snuffed ...

Hide and Go Seek, a child’s game.   Hide while I count.   Skip count by fives til you get to 200. Five, ten, fifteen, twenty…ninety-five, 100!   Repeat Five, ten, fifteen, twenty…ninety-five, 200!   Ready or not, here I come.   But no one comes.   You have followed the rules.   You have hidden yourself.   You have tried to make yourself invisible and hide your pain.   Hide your disfunction.   Hide your sadness.   Hide your essence.   You have no place in this world.   Always unwanted.   Always marginalized.   Be good.   Be quiet.   Child seen but never heard.   Always hiding.   You learned it well. You always thought someone would come.   Someone would come and listen to your pain.   Someone would come to affirm that you are ok.   In fact, you are amazing.   There is no one like you.   Yet, you wait, hidden long after the counting is done.   No one comes. ...