Eternal Round

If there’s one thing that I’ve learned
It’s that life is not clean cut
Things like to happen without plan
And we’re left standing asking, “What?”

We grow and learn and cry
Tears of joy and pain
Laugh, sing and ask and die
Trying to find our place in life

Walking without fear
When we think we know the way
Questions asked without a pause
Answers clear in the light of day

And then someone comes along
Taking what we thought we knew
Turning it inside out
And left knowing a world so new

Still we keep moving on
Not giving in one jot
There’s still so much to learn
We cannot ever give up

Children become so much more
Than just those mirrors reflected back
As they change and grow
Knowing it’s up to them to stay the track

They leave us far behind
With little power left
Not knowing that they have
Left us feeling bereft

We’ve taught them all we know
But not all that they find
Believing, hoping that
They will themselves o’er bind

And yet they still come home
Smiling with eyes bright
Or crying and alone
Still to our arms they go

“I have seen so much out there,
So much that frightened me,
But always I have known
You would still remain waiting like a tree…

“A sentinel from my past
I have known you won’t forget
That you raised me from first to last
As someone more than what you’ve beget.”

And then we can reply,
“I prayed and watched and hoped
That still you’d come and try
To tell me all you’ve seen…

“My child, my heart still beats
A sure rhythm just for you
So listen as it states
That I will always love you, too.

“No matter where you go
Nor how strange you may become to me
My child of choice or birth
My heart is yours for free.

“Learn and grow and live
But don’t forget the past.
Still learn to forgive and regret
And keep your anger last.

“There’s more to life than this
So much more than I can say
Just remember this from me,
Hope and faith still bring the day.”

A part of them in us are
A part of us in them
For the roots cannot yet grow
Without the branches trim.


Wow. That kind of grew to be a lot longer than I thought it would. Every time I thought, well, that’s done, the words would keep coming. Sometimes all we can do is stand back and watch something grow until its time is done.

This was inspired by the Dungeon Prompt: Moral Authority. Make sure to check the other entries there, because these prompts seem to bring out the best in bloggers’ writing I’ve found.

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Start of Summer Work – Thankful Thursday

Today is the last day of school for my sister’s kids until the end of August (but just the kids I live with, all of my other nieces and nephews won’t be out for at least another week or so.)

So today I am grateful for them no longer being in class all day so that we can catch up on a lot of things on the farm. (cackles)

I just know that they’re going to miss school for at least the first three weeks of summer before we get all of the harder stuff done. School means they can escape some of the farm chores during the day and summer means more work, though it should peter out eventually in time for them to be able to go over to my younger sister’s apartment and enjoy the pool there by the end of June at the earliest.

Check out the original Thankful Thursday. (Will update link when able.)

For Better or Worse

They say that you don’t know the power you have as a mother, as a father, as a parent. You have all the power and time in the world in order to build them up, to help your child become everything.

You also have the power to destroy them utterly before they even have a chance with only a few words said at the worst possible moment.

There is no manual, no guidebook in what to do and what not to do save those that you have faith in and trust. Sometimes, even that isn’t enough due to wildly different circumstances and personalities.

And that’s why it’s so important that we watch what we say and how we act, because we don’t even know the power that is there when dealing with children, especially your own children.


These are the words that came to mind when I was watching an episode of the show “Code Black.” In the episode two brothers had been in a car accident that had taken the life of the younger brother. The older brother was driving drunk and was destroyed that he had caused his brother’s death. When their mother came, she was angry and grief-stricken and told her elder son that she had wished he had died instead.

Grief is a powerful thing, a dangerous thing, but something that we must go through if we wish to find peace.

In the show, the mother refuses to leave the hospital even if she won’t go and sit with her last living son. In fact, she denies that she even has another son for a good half of the show.

But she won’t leave the hospital, because no matter what she has said, her son, her eldest son, is still there.

In the end, she is able to overcome her anger and realize that her eldest son is already teetering on the edge of whether he wants to live anymore or not just with the knowledge that he helped to cause his brother’s death. One of the doctors (someone who had lost her husband and both children to a drunk driver before) tells the mother that she needs to let her son know that there is a reason for him to live.

Because the mother’s son has been asking the hospital to just let him die, because there is nothing left for him.

I don’t know all that the mother thought, because she wasn’t a main character in the show and the odds of her showing up again in a later episode aren’t very good, but I do know that the last scene we have of her is her holding her last son and telling him that he didn’t kill his brother and that she loves him.

She was crying and he was crying, but they were together and holding on to one another.

Once you are a parent, you are a parent until you die and likely even beyond that as well. Whether you are a good parent or a bad one isn’t static and it isn’t fate. It’s something you have to work for, something that you have to strive for and you will mess up, you will make mistakes and hurt your children. But that doesn’t mean that it has to be the end.

Don’t make it the end, no matter whether you have been a good parent or a bad one. There is always hope so long as you don’t completely give in to despair.

This child’s life is in your hands and your life is no longer about just you.

Now, it is about them.

Old Magic

The magic glittered all around her as she laughed and ran and played. The lake was so large, but not large enough that she couldn’t dance across the tiny waves that the wind caused. The river, just as wide as the lake, it seemed, was gentle as she landed on the large boulder in its middle. She plopped down, only slightly winded from dancing across the lake and down the river to the boulder itself, her legs dangling over the edge and the flowing water teasing and tickling the edges of her toes. She giggled happily, joyfully even as she flopped back and let the sun-warmed stone behind her help to dry up the water that had lightly soaked her during her play.

The sun was so warm and though it did nothing to her skin (no tan ever seemed to stick to the girl’s skin, not that she cared generally, but the incessant sunburns that few others in her family had to deal with were really getting on her nerves) she enjoyed the heat it engendered for several more minutes before jumping up and skipping back across the river in order to run through the fields and find her favorite cherry tree. (It was the only cherry tree, but that didn’t really matter to her in the end.) The tree still had some of its summer fruit on it and she gleefully picked a few from the highest branches (the only part that still had any of the tiny red berries) and ate them while still clinging to the gently swaying limbs.

This summer was glorious, but all summers in the Valley were glorious. There was always some kind of fruit in season: apples (six different kinds!), grapes (though you had to leave the Valley for those…), pears, plums (only three or four different kinds), cherries, peaches, gooseberries… The supply was endless as each month something was in harvest. She knew that there had once been other trees and bushes with fruit growing on them, though those trees had long since vanished from the Valley, likely some Evil Plague that had been sent down to frighten the inhabitants of the Valley away so that others could come and claim it.

It wouldn’t have been the first time that someone had tried to take the Valley from its rightful inhabitants and it likely wouldn’t be the last. Such a fertile and idyllic place was often sought after by all and sundry.

Even up in the cherry tree she could see movement in the fields of wild wheat up on one of the hills. Her eyes narrowed and she crouched in the tree, eyes still following the line that was being drawn in the wild wheat before springing out of the tree and racing through the fields and other trees, through the large sentinel-like juniper bushes that were on either side of the entrance to the wild wheat fields. She was careful to not trample the wild wheat (it would do no good flattened on the ground) and tracked the figure who was only several yards in front of her now.

Without any kind of cry (though she wasn’t completely silent) she pounced on the supposed intruder, rolling with them down the hill until the figure was pinned beneath her.

“Was there a reason that you just wrestled me to the ground?” came a voice that she knew, dry in its humor and with only a bit of a threat hidden within it.

She blinked and then flushed, “Oops?”

She scrambled off of the person she’d…well, attacked…before she was flung off.

Her sister had never been the most forgiving type.

“I thought you might be an intruder into the Valley.” She explained as she continued to back away from her advancing younger sister.

“Really, now.”

It wasn’t a question and without another word, her younger sister pounced (much better than she had, she noted silently even as she tried, and failed, to escape.) They went down and she realized that the only reason she’d won in the first place was because her sister had let her.

After a good ten minutes of tussling, she gave up and lay flat, breathing loudly.

“Are we even now?” she eventually asked.

Her sister made a show of thinking it over, “Maybe. I’ll think about it. So what’s this idea that there are intruders in the Valley?”

She shrugged, “It was just a thought, probably nothing.”

Her sister’s eyes narrowed and she stopped getting off of her, deciding to pin her back down, “That’s not what I asked. Spill.”

“It was nothing, can I please get up?”

“No.”

They argue like that for a few more minutes while she tried to dislodge her sister a few times before giving in. It was always best to just give in to her sister; her sister was the natural leader of the two even if she was the one who usually had to actually make her sister’s crazy plans work out.

“I…I, uh, think that some of the problems we’ve been having in the Valley have been a Plague Curse or something, to chase us out so someone, uh, someone else can, uh, take the Valley for their own.” She’d mumbled through the last bit and looked at the ground.

She waited for her sister to say something.

She didn’t.

She waited some more.

Nothing.

Finally, she peeked up through her (covered in dirt and twigs and leaves) bangs at her sister. Her sister looked thoughtful, her brow furrowed and her mouth drawn down into a frown as the thoughts flew across her eyes rapidly.

Apparently her wait in silence would continue, because interrupting her sister when she was thinking led to not good things happening. To her, always to her, because she just wasn’t the most patient of people and was always trying to hurry things along when, if she’d just waited even five seconds more things would have been fine.

Yeah, she had issues with waiting quietly.

Issues that were about to come up again if her sister didn’t say something already.

Before she could open her mouth and say or do something stupid, her sister nodded to herself and seemed to come to a decision.

“We need to bring our brother into this, he’s traveled the most outside of the Valley, he’ll know what’s going on outside and if there’s been any rumors of wars or plagues or anything that would be a problem for the Valley.”

She cringed; she’d hoped that her sister wouldn’t want to contact their brother.

“He’s, uh, he’s not…available…right now.”

Her sister paused in her pacing, which she had started when she’d started talking and laying out what they were going to discuss with their brother. She turned and looked at her elder sister, “What do you mean he’s not available?

She flinched and then wished she hadn’t when her sister’s frown deepened. “He’s, uh, he’s in the house.”

Her sister’s face momentarily blanked while she blinked and absorbed that information.

“What.”

“He’s inside, watching something, maybe playing a video game.”

And just like that the magic was broken.

The Valley melted down into their backyard, the river turned into the gravel that ran alongside the house and the lake became the giant hole they’d dug near the end of the gravel-way. The fruit trees and gooseberry bushes were still there, but closer together and the wild wheat no longer covered hills and dips, just the part of the yard at the back where it was on higher ground than the rest of the backyard.

“I thought he was going to play with us?” her sister asked as they divested themselves of their sticks (swords, daggers, staves) before entering the house through the sliding backdoor.

“He decided he wanted to have a turn on the t.v. before Mom got home from work.”

Her sister sighed, “Fine, but we’re totally going to crash his time and demand some of the popcorn he’s likely made while we were gone.”

She stopped and stared at her younger sister with wide eyes for a moment, “We have more popcorn! He didn’t tell me that!”

Her sister laughed, “Of course not, would you have told us?”

She didn’t bother trying to argue or look guilty as they raced down the stairs.


This little story was partially inspired by my childhood backyard. It was an awesome place and had lots of fruit trees and gooseberry bushes. (There used to be strawberry bushes and rhubarb, but, uh, there aren’t anymore.)

It’s amazing the magic that a child has and I wonder just where some of it goes the older we get. Maybe we need to spend more time practicing the magic we had as children once we’ve become adults to make sure we don’t lose it.

The rest of this story was inspired by the Dungeon Prompt: Our Magical Powers.

 

Memorable Chocolate – Thankful Thursday

Today I am thankful for chocolate and for all the good memories it brings me. Like the time my niece and nephews made sure that all of their dark chocolate Halloween candy was given to me because I could eat the dark chocolate better than the milk (though I still had to be careful about eating too much.) I’d try to give some of it back sometimes (in the beginning), but they’d just shove it in my bag and walk away.

“Enforce charity!” –my friend’s family

Check out the original Thankful Thursday. (Will update link…eventually.)

Have a Happy Halloween! (Seriously, this is my favorite holiday, enjoy it!)

Can You Imagine

A princess finding a shy unicorn,

Not bothered is the magical one.

Yearning to fly as the dragon’s faced down

The knight draws his sword.

Holding a soft rabbit within her lap

Innocently wandering through the flowers as well.

Not going to give up no matter what

Going to dunk that ball and win the championship.

 

Can’t do these things in real life

And I want to see what it’s like

Not sit and drift away only in strife

 

Because one man decided they needed more

Especially with what they have in store

 

Anything Can Be Project, check it out. It will make you cry.

Broadcast the Cries – Random Reminiscence

One of the things that I believed when I was a child, that I just knew was true, was that every crying baby in the middle of church was living up in the ceiling.

You know the light fixtures and the speakers that are throughout the ceiling of any meeting house? I thought that those were rooms where mothers took their crying babies so that they could still be a part of the meeting without bothering anyone. I further thought that it was very unintelligent to leave those speaker holes underneath the rooms so that the sounds of the baby crying would be broadcast-ed so clearly throughout the meeting room.

Now I look back and laugh at myself whenever I think of that!

This little reminiscence was brought to you by Dungeon Prompt: What did you forget?