No Ordinary Monster...

NO - Grief is never kind.

It doesn't go away one day

and allow you to say, "That's the end of that."

It goes and returns

but mostly returns -

over and over.

It comes in unexpected ways.

Some insignificant thing can happen

and a torrent of wretchedness will rush in

and almost knock you down

and cause you to look back

to see if anyone saw you stumble.

Sometimes you get stuck in looking back...

This is no ordinary monster

that goes away at sunrise.

It does not hide in the shadows

but always stands beside you -

boldly ready to grab you and shake you

just when

you feel you are getting your life back together.

It makes you think you do not deserve to be happy

but should wear the hot wet blanket of sorrow

for the rest of your life.

You look for excuses not to be happy and realize you are trying

to please this thing that controls you - this unseen something

that doesn't even have the right name.

Grief is too brief a word

for what this demon does to you

and causes you to do.

Her Pain...

At the corner,

I was sure the tears would spill

from the pain

But they did not, immediately.

So, I could not see to

Sidestep

His spit.

(Just a boy...

spitting at the corner.)

I looked up

and then the tears spilled,

Startled

at his reaction...

his hands gently reaching towards me

and his eyes burning into mine

Saying,

"Please...please...I am so sorry."

Something I had forgotten

Stirred

and I was healed.

Joanne Saxon Hill

(from the 80s)

...

Twilight Down at the Pond...

...and just like that -

with hardly a notice

or a flutter,

or even a sigh...

She was gone.

I Am Glad You Are Not Here Today.

I am glad you are not here today.

You would see that I have been crying.

You might want to comfort me.

You might want to ask questions.

You might want to hold me.

But I am most afraid that you would turn and walk away.

Would you walk away - because you would not know what to do for me

or

Would you walk away because you would not want to acknowledge my pain?

I am glad you are not here today.

To see the truth on your face would make me cry

again

tomorrow.

I am glad you are not here today.

You would see that even though I have said a lot,

I have remained mostly silent in my pain.

You might want to comfort me.

You might want me to say something.

You might want me to pretend I no longer hurt.

But I am most afraid that you would turn and walk away.

Would you walk away - because you don’t how to make me feel better

or

Would you walk away because you are afraid of what you might hear?

I am glad you are not here today.

To see the truth on your face would make me cry

again

tomorrow.

I am glad you are not here today.

You would see that I have been laughing.

You might want to rejoice with me.

You might want to ask questions.

You might want to hold me to know what happiness feels like.

But I am most afraid that you would turn and run away

Would you run away – because you are angry that I have found joy

or

Would you run away because you do not understand happiness?

I am glad you are not here today.

To see the truth on your face would make me cry

again

tomorrow.

I am glad you are not here today.

Sunday Picnic

Hank's Little Acre

Have you ever driven out in the country on a just-right Sunday – all for the love of a picnic?

Oh - the joy of the trip to the perfect spot! The notion of finding a place that will make for a wonderful lazy afternoon. The expectation of finding the place that will linger as a sweet memory, useful for a dreary day.

Driving down a dirt road and absorbing everything - the smell of the dust that billows behind the car, the sight of dogwood and red-bud blooms and just-born leaves. The feel of the Spring breeze as you rest your arm on the let-down car window. The sound of water rushing over stones, as you slow to pass over a bridge. The creek beckons you to stop and wade. Your toes wiggle. Could you? Should you? No - the call of the picnic urges you to move along. The crunch of car tires on the rocks in the dirt road is sweet!

There is no need for the radio. The crisp of Spring sings as you ride. You turn your head this way and that...searching...waiting for just the right picnic patch to speak to you.

The little gnawing in your stomach grows as the smells come creeping from the basket on the back seat - fried chicken, potato salad, chocolate cake….And just as you slow the car and reach back to have "just one piece"...you see it. The most excellent spot. The right place. You can stop now. You can gather your food and skip merrily to the perfect plot of grass that has been reserved for your blanket, your basket, and you.

Ahhh - the anticipation of the picnic!

Leavin'

Fallin'

Winter Leaves

As Winter leaves,

The last of Winter's leaves

Congregate

In corners, crevices, and crannies,

Like old women gossiping,

They give occasional nervous flutters

As though having been suspiciously waiting for my broom.

I approach and some snap to attention.

A small cackling crackle of life.

Yes - they had been waiting.

My broom moves and so do they

Lightly awkward

or

Gracefully clumsy

or

Blithely careful.

They all run away

In rhythm to some unknown energy

Laugh Dancing across the porch.

I watch.

I consider.

What if it is not the wind?

What if it is of their own accord?

Sara Joanne Saxon Hill

March 23, 2011

I APPRECIATE YOU!

"Tiny Dancer"

Last year, our Minister talked about how he felt when his son said to him, unexpectedly, “I appreciate you.” He became overwhelmed as he spoke about this.

I understood exactly how he felt. Those three words helped shape my life. They were spoken to me frequently by a man at the church I attended when I was young. When I think back to my childhood, Brother Jordan was the only person who ever expressed appreciation at anything I did. I think now, he did not realize the impact of what he was saying. He would come into church and shake everyone’s hand, saying, “I appreciate you”. It was kind of his way of saying “hello”.

I did not realize the impact those words had on me until I was a grown woman. I don’t remember much about being a child except always having to work and being reprimanded for not doing enough. There were never any rewards - only expectations.

I went back to that little church a couple of years after I got married and Brother Jordan was there. He had not seen me in a very long time, but when he shook my hand, he said, “I appreciate you.” I didn’t realize how much I had missed hearing it.

Today, more than any sermon I ever heard, I can still hear those words - clearly. I think they are written on my heart. They have become part of who I am. Although I didn't realize it at the time, it made me feel that I was special and that I had something important to offer.

During my career at the “corporation”, I sometimes said "I appreciate you" to co-workers. I could always see what a difference that little phrase made. I regret that I now feel I never said it enough.

Today, someone very special in my life said these words to me again. A flood of memories came over me and I silently thanked my God for always sending me a Blessing and for giving me Strength, just when I need it.

“I appreciate you” is a phrase that has the ability to transform. Try these words out as soon as you can.

Watch what happens!

Love and Blessings!

Majo

Musings on Love...

I think Love is like God. Sometimes, I just can't seem to get my arms all the way around it.

love

"Say What?"

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My Aunt gave me directions to her house one time. I wrote them down, so I wouldn't have any trouble getting there. Her instructions went like this:

"Well, after you get off the big highway, you go a piece and then you turn right. There is a big nothing on the right and you turn right there. If you go past that, you are lost."

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A Dream I Have...

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"Who Loves Ya, Baby?"

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