2018


As the chrysalis bursts open
A butterfly emerges with gossamer wings
Shaking itself free it takes flight
looking for the food of life which comes thru
Nectar in all the colors of the garden.
As we shake off 2017 let us become
Like the butterfly, let us emerge
Taking strength from the nectar
Offered in the many colors of us
Let us listen to our many voices,
Learning from each other
Share love, peace and understanding
Move onward do not look back and
Remember we are stronger together.

Daughters


Daughters, if there was one thing I could be
I would be a lantern lighting the way of your life’s path
Shining the way to make life easier and without woes
So you would never have to fight for or with the many foes

I would turn back tides, open doors wide
removing all blocks to your success
If I could light your path to make life easier
Even the strongest storms I would deter
I am always here for you my precious two
To cheer you when down and blue
Do Not worry when life gets tough
As sometimes the journey is rough
Just know in your heart I am here
I will always be close and near
If I could be  but that one thing you need
It would be the lantern to light your path
To teach and help you to plant a little seed
A seed of love to pass along on the path
you may someday light for another.

Gram


As a small child, my grammie at close to her fifties did not hesitate to take in her oldest sons children one daughter and two sons. she was a true taskmaster believing the “idle hands are the devils’ tools” so she kept us busy but the boys not so much. me I  worked from sun up to past sun down and seemed the older I got the worse she was about keeping me busy, ahh but I took off there for a minute.
now I am older, wiser and less tolerant of laziness, lack of common sense and have no concept of a 40 hour week young people. In that vein with the oldest daughter if I had nothing else for her to do, in keeping the idle hands busy I had her string buttons. My gram had several jars of buttons collected over the years and when we complained as children do “I’m bored”  out came the button jars and the thick quilting thread and needles for the larger heavier buttons thread of regular everyday quality for the others. We would sit in her sewing room if she needed to keep her eagle eye on us or we could sit on the porch and thread buttons …all the blues together, all the colors should have their own thread white or beige, and on and on. Hope there were enough buttons to last many a lifetime, for if buttons didn’t keep our attention there was always silver to polish or baseboards to wash.

 in memory of my gram, loved and missed so very much, my gram but my mom as well.

RIP Catherine Marie Williams  March 24, 1905, ~ March 30th, 2005 she lived a wonderful life on her own in her own home until the day she transitioned, She was 100 years and 6 days.

GROWING UP


GROWING UP
I was five years old when Grandpa Williams picked up my mother, my two brothers and myself at the Greyhound station.  tired hungry and of course cranky I’m sure. Poor momma, we had to have been a handful on that long cross-country ride. Arriving at the house we took our baths and a nap.Grandma had been busy cooking, don’t remember what it was but I’m sure it was good.
Momma took us into the living room sat us down Grandma holding my baby brother he was still in diapers now I appreciate what she had to go through on that bus trip.
Anyway, she proceeded to tell us that she was going shopping to get us some new clothes we had sunny California clothes not winter cold February in Colorado. She would be back in a few hours. she kissed us goodbye hugged us and walked out the door, don’t remember seeing her again until I was twelve.Life was good at Grandma & Grandpa’s, my youngest aunt was still home and my uncle  he was 5 years older so he was like a big brother to me. As I was the only girl  expectations were different for me I had to do the ‘woman of the house chores’ and as my brothers grew they were taken up by Grandpa and made to be ‘young men’ God he was so frickin cruel to them. I mean yes, he molested me from 5 to 12 but he beat my brothers , he belittled like I had never heard and he did it to my uncle as well. No wonder my Dad wasn’t there and an alcoholic.
It got to me that he was so respected and feared within the community, later I found out why but then I only feared him ..he could look at me sitting at the table doing homework and tell me I needed to go to bed and I knew what was coming …so I wouldn’t move and he would tell me again tell your Grandmother you are going to bed. I wet that chair so many times from fear, Grandma finally covered it in plastic.
We never went hungry but we were always the outsiders and that was more due to grandma making all of our clothes when others at school had store bought and we were raised as Jehovah’s Witnesses so we were not able to participate in things like the pledge or birthday parties Christmas etc.  And they were raised during the depression all they knew was work so that is what we were taught.
Don’t get me wrong we had play time, kick the can, hide n seek , red light blue light . but our life consisted mainly of work. I don’t remember laughter in that house yet my happiest memories are from there, because Grandma loved us she didn’t tell us she showed us everyday , we were never a burden to her as we were to him. Towards the last days there she stuck up for us more and more to her detriment  as he liked to slap her when she ‘got smart’.
My aunt eventually left home and uncle went into high school , we grew and learned  and existed, I don’t think they knew how to tell a child anything about growing up we were  not told we could be anything we wanted to be , that we were smart or that education was the way to better ourselves we went because the laws said we had to.
We had to attend the ‘Hall’ or Bible studies many times during the week , learned a scripture a week  that we had to stand up and read along with the books of the Bible. that was always so creepy for me  as our studies were held in the home of an old genteel couple from Germany and  he gave me the creeps. All the people attending were old false teethed wrinkled smelling old people smells. Eventually my brothers didn’t have to go but Grandma kept taking me. to this day I cant’t remember a scripture or the order of the books of the Bible.

~~~~~~

Return To Birth


Should I but return to my birth,
would life had I to start over?
I would have  parents that did not infuse my life with “abandonment issues”
that I still deal with at sixty-two years of age, causing lack of trust as well.
I would not have lost my innocence at the age of five.
I would find God and live my life with an abundance of blessings and love sooner.
I would be stronger in being and voicing “ME.”
I would have grown up with all my siblings in the same home, loving, fighting, rivalry and making memories of love to come home to.
I would have grown a backbone or as they say today “put on your big girl panties and get on with it.”
I would complete my education without being a single mom, working and trying but never accomplishing the gift of the degree.
I would choose my soul mate rather than letting men ‘choose’ me.
I would have many friends and kept the relationship for years and years.
I would have loving fun grandparents and from both sides of the family.
I would parent my daughters, with more unconditional love, as I now parent my grandchildren with fun, laughter, and higher expectations. Teaching more values.
I would take the time to see life through their eyes as I do with the miracles of grandchildren.
I would have never lost an adult child to domestic murder, never felt the burden of this grief.
I would love more, loved deeper, as the old song says.
I would be a better “me”