Showing posts with label my heart. Show all posts
Showing posts with label my heart. Show all posts

Sunday, June 17, 2012

papa boy, on father's day

For someone who meant so much
and loved by all he knew
who left behind a trail of tears
and precious memories too

We loved the sunshine in his smile
and kindness in his heart
but heaven saw that he was tired
which meant we had to part

And now that it's his special day
dear angels, hear our prayer
please guard him with your gentle wings
and tend him with great care

For he was someone wonderful
and words just can't convey
how much we wish that he was here
once more, with us today

Saturday, April 26, 2008

he who knows the key


Clanging in the bowl as I drop them. Keys.
Eight seven six five four three two one.

I hold them together in a key ring..
.. like chapters of a life sewed together.

You lose them.. you change them..
you forget them.. you seek them..
you label them to a box hidden somewhere..
you give them away freely in trust..

"Where are my bloody keys?"

It is desperation when the mind forgets.
It is life to one who stands in shackles.

And behind the gate you are safe.
The bolt keeps you secure.

You make good calculated choices..
yet sometimes you throw the key to the wind
and claim freedom and your dreams..

Come to think of it, he said..
the key.. it opens and closes..

So as it opens and welcomes the sunshine in..
.. it must shut the door sometimes.
To keep away the unexpected downpour and the cold.

So will you turn the lock and hide the key?
And run the risk of forgetting where you place it?

Oh the possibilities of weekend late afternoons...
The pleasurable treat of curling up in the couch.
And to realize the truth. That he who knows the key..

.. holds your heart.

Keys photo credit: Joel Almeida

Thursday, September 13, 2007

when we talk...



ME “You really like those chips, do you?”

GELA “Yup. Hey Mom, do you know that there is an animal that will allow itself to die?”

ME “Really? How’d you know that?”

GELA “Teacher said. The praying mantis boy, I mean, the male praying
mantis, when the female praying mantis is going to have a birth, he will allow the wife to eat its head.”

NIKA “Eew! But Gela, what birth do you mean?”

GELA “I mean when the female praying mantis is pregnant,
will have a child. She will eat the head of the male and then slowly eat the neck and the body.”

ME “That’s gross. I wonder why she’d do that. And the man mantis is okay about it?”

GELA “Yeah. The male praying mantis will be eaten. What a sacrifice. But Teacher was also asking that to us in class. Why?”

ME “But hey Nika, do you know that gorillas are now becoming extinct?”

NIKA “How did you know, Mom?”

ME “Internet.”

NIKA “Pity. Then the time will come Gel, when the turtles are also extinct.”

GELA “And you know, Nik, when I’m already a grandmother I’d say to my grandchildren: I am going to tell you about an animal we used to know when I was a kid. What was that again? What was the name of that animal again?”

ME “Hahahahahaha! Silly.”

NIKA “Yes Gel, you look funny. Hahahahahaha!”

GELA “Then my daughter would say: Oh mom, it’s the turtle.
And I’d tell the boy, because my daughter will have a son: Yeah! The tur-tuh! The tur-tuh! What is the tur-tuh again?”

ME “Hahahahahaha! But hey, I thought you said you’re not gonna get married.”

NIKA “Gela’s gonna get married. Gela’s gonna get married!”

ME “But you look funny acting like a grandma.”

GELA “And I’ll tell my grandchildren: Do you know your great grandmother?
She is Heidi. But yeah, what was that I’m going to tell you about again? Ah, the tur-tuh…”ME “C’mon girls, let’s finish off the chips and prepare your bags for tomorrow’s class.”

What a drag I must sound, but it's almost bedtime.

Yet it
was a happy moment watching Gela act out, standing up on the couch, with Nika at her feet, munching and laughing. Laughing with them is always a treat.Then I realized, I'd also be extinct by the time Gela will be having this conversation with her real grandchildren...I stood up slowly, going to prepare their glasses of water, off to the same invisible highway that the gorillas and the turtles would go.

Painting: Mother and Her Daughters, by Lucette Dallozo

Thursday, March 22, 2007

the girl in the looking-glass

It's not for me to say.
But maybe asking questions can help.

Who am I?
1. A person trapped in a female body
2. A spoiled brat of a wife
3. A proud mother of two daughters
4. A career woman lost in circles
5. A clothes crazy with not enough cabinets

Who do I want to be?
1. A poster-perfect mom of a third-born son
2. A flourishing practicing accountant
3. A cattle ranch and orchard farmer
4. A cosmopolitan traveler
5. A writer with my view of the ocean

Who do I wish to be but never could have the chance?
1. A courageous sailor in the high seas
2. A shady red-lipsticked politician
3. A famous serial killer with initials as a name
4. A director of epic multi-million movie productions
5. Divinely beautiful, dazzlingly clever, angelically good

Who am I when no one is watching?
1. A kindling waiting and ready to spark
2. A trying-hard with a bad back
3. A corny romantic optimist
4. A self-confessed schizophrenic
5. An insecure snob (this is an oxymoron at its best)