We Belong to a Mutual Aggravation Society, My Mamie and Me.

Some people simply enter our souls and never leave again.
We may spend little time with them, but their spirits we retain.
I confessed to Mountain Mama that I'm greedy for time with her;
Our relationship isn't, with emotional baggage, hampered.

She reminds me regularly that she likes to aggravate me;
I tell her I'm as aggravating as anybody can possibly be.

We agree that parenthood is the most important job on earth,
But she's not sure that fathers can take over after we give birth.

We cook together, cry together, laugh and complain
She says that we women should, over the world, reign.

I remind her that the only thing holding us back
Is the fear that, for our strengths, we will be attacked.

She is rightfully proud of her many management skills.
"What do you think?" is her entree to me being grilled.
We congratulate each other on the things we do the same,
Avoiding admitting differences is a favorite of our games.

When we can't ignore a disagreement, we agree to learn
The way each other does things, so neither feels spurned.
If every one of our elders was willing to learn from their young,
Perhaps the future's possibilities, by all of us, would be sung.
 
She married and gave birth very young, educating herself;
For all her reading material, there aren't enough shelves.
Her interest in people is another form of her education;
Her friends include people from every state in the nation


Her four children all grew to be responsible citizens;
They all seemed to consider their mother their best friend.
She lost a son to death, a daughter to Alzheimer's dementia;
Still, her life is family, friend, faith, feeding folks, and fun centered.


When I am in her home, to her will, I always try to defer;
This is a sign of homeowner's respect that I usually prefer. Everything that happens in her home is her responsibility;
I am blessed that she is willing to share it all with me.

What a compliment that she believes that I am her equal,
Even though her life has been much more eventful.
Perhaps in the years between now and when I'm her age,
I'll enjoy as many relationships as those in which she's engaged.

Women of Wit and Wisdom

I'm basking in the wisdom of a woman we has adopted me;
She and I have always enjoyed each others company.
The knowledge she passes on, she learned at her mother's knee;
As she shares it all with me, she insists I remain debt free.

Her wisdom is much like that that I gleaned from my mothers,
But she is not embarrassed that I'm not like many others.
Perhaps it's that she isn't related to me by blood,
That she doesn't seem to find my ways rude or crude.

We laugh and cry together, as if we're both in our nineties;
This equal sharing seems to, both of us, equally please.
Today she called me her best friend; there is nothing more blessed
Than to find friendship with one who pretends to love me best.

I know that my time with her is, by nature, limited to a few years;
I want to soak up as much of her spirit as possible while she's here.
I hope this intensity of attention doesn't endanger her affection,
As I have already, through my intensity, created much rejection.

It is simply that I want to share all the wisdom and wit of women
That I have been so privileged to call my own good friends.
I want to sing the songs of women who think they're only average,
And pass their sacred stories of greatness on from age to age.

Sing the songs of loving mothers, nursemaids, singers, and cooks.
Sing the songs of teachers who explain what we can't learn from books.
Sing the songs of laundresses and of prophetic storytellers.
Sing the songs of our men who honor the home dwellers.

We must write new chapters of our own sacred scriptures,
The every day lessons we've learned without religious strictures.
We must tell our children and theirs our own experience in truth;
Only then will we be able to relax and have faith in our youth.

Listening and Learning

I can't think of anything more enjoyable than to bask in the success of those I love. Not only did I have the privilege of being at the event announcing my daughter's success as a teacher, on Sacred Sunday, I spent the day with my daughter. We had a leisurely brunch together, followed by something she hasn't allowed me to do with her for many years, help her choose clothing. It seems that she has decided to change her dress style now that she is being so prominently put on display. I used to really know how to dress for success; I'm always proud to share any knowledge I have on any subject with her, anytime she asks. This position in her fashion adviser line-up has opened because her older daughter is now busy with college.

Her younger daughter was busy all week-end preparing for her performance as a tenor saxophone player with the district honor band. I know it was Super Bowl Sunday, but watching my granddaughter share her success was my Super Sacred Sunday celebration. I was blessed with the opportunity, after the concert, to take mother and daughter stars to supper, just the three of us. What a delight it was to be able to converse with my almost fifteen-year-old grandchild in an arena where she felt free to share her life and information on various topics with me.

I'd much prefer to listen and learn from those who are successful than to spend my old age complaining about what a mess we've made of the world. And listening to the youth of our nation, I have great hope for what will come after I'm long gone.

Women of The Word

If we are known by the company we keep, I should have a halo by now;
My daughter is her school's teacher of the year; I was her mother, somehow.
My daughter-in-law also earned that award; my son is her husband/partner
They are both so very deserving of any accolades they garner.

What can be more sacred than teaching a child to apply information?
We need more teachers this dedicated in our hysterical nation.
Until we learn to think through consequences before we react,
We will make no progress in society, without then sliding back.

I love to surround myself with people of great competence
This began when I was a child, and I've practiced it ever since.
My daddy said that I was a sponge; my mother said I was arrogant
I had to learn in secret, or away to another's home, I was soon sent.

This served the purpose of exposing me to even more
Knowledge of the kind that my mother's people abhorred.
Women were to be seen and submissive, but never heard;
This was according to our religion's teaching of The Word.

Teaching is a subversive act; education can be dangerous;
The world is changed when ideas are respectfully discussed.
Rote memorization and vomiting back random facts
Is the old method of learning; sacred teachers won't go back.

I am so blessed by the aura of these two fine women;
One I call daughter, but they are both good friends.
If it hadn't been for gifted teachers, I don't know where I'd be;
My Sacred Spirit was kept alive by women such as these.

Church of Good Cheer

I left my lover yesterday for a three week trip alone;
I have always told him wherever he is, that's my home.
We had breakfast together, as lovers often do;
He said, "Stop at the gas pump; I'll pump your gas for you."

The drive is long without him, but I had much to think through;
Planning Mountain Mama's history project gave me much to do.
I was so looking forward to my first stop to see my daughter;
Every time I wanted to take a break, I pushed myself a bit farther.

My girlfriend's home awaited me, as it always does so well.
She had to work late at the mansion, so into my warm bed I fell.
I thinking of how many homes to which I have the keys;
I'm actually never far from a feeling of welcoming family.

The Sacred Spirit comes to me in so many faces and voices;
I have never been one to walk away from any of my choices.
Some insist that church is a building and a certain creed;
I say that my church is where we help fill each others' needs.

Strangely Silent Seagulls

Strangely silent seagulls soar on the wild wind,
Stop-action as they surrender to the air's pull.
Waves crash beneath, have no current appeal;
Is this a meditative moment for a gull?

Usually so seeking, greedy, screeching;
It isn't often that, in the air, they are calm.
Does it take a wild wind to comfort some,
So they don't have to sing their own song?

Crazy clanking of the riggings, huge wind chimes,
As clouds scud densely across the sky.
The seagull song could probably compete,
But they are probably asking themselves why.

Today is a day for them to simply relax,
And the whipping wind will take them away.
For a short time, they seem content
To have no fights and nothing to say.

Those who aren't ever exposed to nature
Can't feel the earth's sacred rhythms.
They are always anxious and hurried
Over the making of their next decisions.

Humans supposedly have superior brains;
I like to believe this is actually true.
But it seems that even a bird brain
Can teach we humans a thing or two.

In Love and The Sacred Spirit

Yesterday, Gayle wrote in her blog OneBirdWatching.blogspot.com "God wants to reveal Himself to each one of us; He wants direct, Spirit-to-spirit communication with us.  He wants the kind of energy-exchange that most of us will truly experience only when we fall deeply and sincerely in love for the first time.  He wants openness, not fear.  He wants us to be able to open our hearts fully to Him, as lovers exchange freely and fully all that is in them without fear --- and He wants us to be able to hear fully and freely what He has to say to us."

I am so fortunate to have finally found that love experience about which she speaks. I believe that many people actually experience it for the first time in their relationships with their parents. I've often admitted openly that I'm absolutely "in love" with my children and grandchildren. Our relationships, as does my relationship with my mate, only work when we are vulnerable to each other, emotionally naked, if you will.

The great sin of religions, in my opinion, has been inflicting of shame and fear where nakedness had been. You can argue that Adam and Eve started it, but religions have continued this method of mind control. As a child, I was in awe of my parents and grandparents, and I didn't have to be made afraid to strive to please them. If they were open with me about their emotions, I  made every attempt to make them happy with me.

The Roman church taught fear of God instead of awe and bonding with The Sacred Spirit. They taught that an angry God sends us to damnation forever if we don't sacrifice enough to Him. They even taught that God created a sacrificial son in order to feed His own need to punish sin. They took it upon themselves to take away the bread and wine that they declared was Jesus' body and blood as a punishment for our transgressions.

I made up my mind a long time ago that I would not be manipulated by fear. The gut-wrenching grief that I feel when I'm rejected because of this may appear as anger to some, but when the soul breaks open again and again it causes unimaginable agony. The labor pains of rebirth of oneself and one's relationships can be as painful for both communicants as the physical birthing process of our children.

Thankfully, The Sacred Spirit has continued coming my way through so many people that I have never been able to completely despair.