Thursday, May 29, 2014
So...
I'm not going to go into detail here, but an older family member found out this week that she has cancer. We don't know stage, or how spread it is, or what the treatment options are yet. But yeah, all of a sudden this became the summer of the big "C."
Fuck cancer.
Fuck cancer.
Tuesday, May 13, 2014
I wish, kid. I wish.
The 3-year-old is telling us this morning that after school we're going to the river (where we have our other house and grandma and grandpa live). I'm sure he'll be telling all his friends at school that too. But of course we're not because it's TUESDAY and I have to go to work every day like a punk.
Monday, May 12, 2014
Weekend
This past weekend we went to the river house. Mother-in-law watched the boys so L and I could go to a leisurely lunch at a place on the water, then they grilled steaks for dinner (with fresh local asparagus, yum!), and Sunday was brunch, drive home, and grilling burgers while the boys played in the backyard.
It was pretty perfect.
Things we did NOT do: trim dogs, bathe kids, mow yard, finish laundry.
And we were both okay skipping all that. It made the weekend so much less stressful.
Smile.
It was pretty perfect.
Things we did NOT do: trim dogs, bathe kids, mow yard, finish laundry.
And we were both okay skipping all that. It made the weekend so much less stressful.
Smile.
Friday, May 09, 2014
For my wife ... a mother.
I read this, and all of a sudden, all the dread I was feeling to make it a special day just vanished, and I was left feeling pride and love for my wife and what an amazing mother she is.
(And I hope she doesn't see this before Mother's Day because I had to slip a copy of it into her card too! And yes, it made me cry at my desk at work!) Credit at bottom of poem, FYI.
(And I hope she doesn't see this before Mother's Day because I had to slip a copy of it into her card too! And yes, it made me cry at my desk at work!) Credit at bottom of poem, FYI.
I
Don’t Know If I Love You
I don’t know if I love you.
I don’t know what those words mean.
But I can tell you that you are my sun
that the day does not truly begin until you rise
and the warmth that is like a halo around you beams down on me
and holds my pajama-ed body next to yours.
You are my sun.
I don’t know if I love you, but you are my moon.
When night comes
whether it is the darkening of the sky for the entire world
or just for me as I become
once again
lost in emotions 3, no 4, times my size
struggling against the waves of my own tears
agitated rapids
the undertow of the moment pulling me down
taking me prisoner
fighting for breath and rights
you, a beacon of light wax bright and steady
guiding me home.
I don’t know if I love you, but you are my tree.
Rich with good things.
Plump fruit in the form of kisses
your palm glides across my head
through my hair.
You caress my cheeks with your branches.
When the world swirls too fast and loud
I know I can always find shelter at the base of your trunk
and shade under your fronds.
You purify the air around me.
You are my tree.
I don’t know if I love you, but your voice is my song.
There is a place in the deepest part of me
that only your tune can unlock
that only your tune can stir.
When you laugh it’s a cool breeze on a sweaty day.
I want another and another
and become a puppet entertainer
doing anything to hear that tinkling giggle.
When you’re angry, it’s a wintery blizzard.
I feel the chill in my bones and the ice on my face
but then even, I move closer to you
for comfort from you.
When you’re sad, it’s a quiet low whistle
and I pull myself into your lap
drawing long ribbons of whatever ails you out through your heart
throwing them down on the floor.
I don’t know if I love you
because I’ve heard others use those words
and since they can’t possibly have what we do
they must not be enough.
But in the off chance that I do
since I’m not sure
it seems right that I should say it
so, mama
I love you.
Happy Mother’s Day
I don’t know what those words mean.
But I can tell you that you are my sun
that the day does not truly begin until you rise
and the warmth that is like a halo around you beams down on me
and holds my pajama-ed body next to yours.
You are my sun.
I don’t know if I love you, but you are my moon.
When night comes
whether it is the darkening of the sky for the entire world
or just for me as I become
once again
lost in emotions 3, no 4, times my size
struggling against the waves of my own tears
agitated rapids
the undertow of the moment pulling me down
taking me prisoner
fighting for breath and rights
you, a beacon of light wax bright and steady
guiding me home.
I don’t know if I love you, but you are my tree.
Rich with good things.
Plump fruit in the form of kisses
your palm glides across my head
through my hair.
You caress my cheeks with your branches.
When the world swirls too fast and loud
I know I can always find shelter at the base of your trunk
and shade under your fronds.
You purify the air around me.
You are my tree.
I don’t know if I love you, but your voice is my song.
There is a place in the deepest part of me
that only your tune can unlock
that only your tune can stir.
When you laugh it’s a cool breeze on a sweaty day.
I want another and another
and become a puppet entertainer
doing anything to hear that tinkling giggle.
When you’re angry, it’s a wintery blizzard.
I feel the chill in my bones and the ice on my face
but then even, I move closer to you
for comfort from you.
When you’re sad, it’s a quiet low whistle
and I pull myself into your lap
drawing long ribbons of whatever ails you out through your heart
throwing them down on the floor.
I don’t know if I love you
because I’ve heard others use those words
and since they can’t possibly have what we do
they must not be enough.
But in the off chance that I do
since I’m not sure
it seems right that I should say it
so, mama
I love you.
Happy Mother’s Day
* From www.thehonesttoddler.com/2014/05/i-dont-know-if-i-love-you.html#sthash.FKb1xC6i.dpuf
Tuesday, May 06, 2014
See this.
A little late to the party, but we still got to see it in the theater.
Everything is awesome.
Everything is awesome.
