Saturday, April 4, 2015


I am in that place, 
you know where I speak of.
Between sleep and awake.
Where you can be anywhere your mind
and heart wants to be.
So I am there,
I am comforted, I am warm in my bed,
and I smile because I am safe.
I hear my parents speaking downstairs,
under where my childhood bedroom sits.
Our home is old, and unkept yet it is 
safe and because my parents are with
me I can continue to sleep...
All is well on Dursette Street in Golden Meadow.
Then I awaken and realize.
I am not that child, the one
who lays in her Hollie Hobbie sheets,
where she has no worries, all she needs,
is the responsibilities of those people
she heard speaking, her parents.
I am a 51 year old single woman
with two grown children,
both my parents have gone to another
place, which I choose to call heaven.
I am about to embark on something
I have never done alone.
For a few moments I feel that fear,
knowing what I thought was my parents voice,
is only the wind and rain the news
spoke of last night, a cold front.
Then, I am totally awake and I lay in 
my bed listening to the weather
and remember my childhood for a minute.
How my dad awakened early every morning
It was most mornings that his and my Mom's
voice is what I awakened to.
I would climb down those steps to
a homemade breakfast made by Dad,
whatever we had requested the night
before, a hug and back rub by my Mommy.
 Then it's time for reality.
 I may not be that child,
I may be doing something, buying a home alone
that I have never done before 
but I am also at complete peace in my life.
 The excitement of it all
replaces the fear I felt for a few seconds
and once again, all is right in the world.
Nursing graduation, would loose my Dad within that year.
C and I playing with Tiffy picking in C's hair.
That baby bed? it's a doll in there and yeah,
I was still sleeping in a baby bed in my parent room
at that age..... 
Tiffany, me being "a lady" Rosie holding my nephew, Guy.

My brother who was my godfather came from
Mexico in that fancy car and brought me the poncho,
hat and his new wife who was also from there.
My mom, bartering in Mexico for a silly puppet I just had to have,
broken arm but holding that bag tightly, still like
toys and can't pass a puppet on a string for nothing.

No comments:

Post a Comment