They arrive before I expect them,
And the first glimpse makes my heart fill.
Rarely have I seen anything of such beauty,
And my soul gasps as it records its first awareness.
The quince bush flames first,
Popping its vibrant orange color into the world,
Then the weeping cherry blossoms,
As a bride elegantly dressed in blush.
He told me the cherry tree was diseased,
And needed to come down before other trees caught the fungus,
I was firm in my no,
She of the black thumb defying the professional.
Its foliage did die away early that year, And the…
I swear I’m alive,
Yet no matter how I try,
I can’t take my pulse.
Thanks to Tracy Aston and the House of Haiku for a fun prompt.
And here are some responses from my friends. Give them a read!
Kim McKinney is good at many things but has a few hard walls she can’t get over. One is taking her own pulse. Try as she may, even with the best instruction, she simply can’t do it. It may be due to a very short attention span. Or panic. But she can take her temperature…
She often found fault in me, but I would not feel guilty. Then she got Alzheimer’s and we took her car away. In her mind, her brain is sharp as a razor. Instead, she lives in a fantasy world. They can’t drive cars there. The guilt is excruciating, but necessary.
I feel as though my mom’s Alzheimer’s consumes my writing these days, but that’s because it consumes my own brain. Guilty seems to be my constant state. It’s a daily battle, telling her she cannot drive because it is unsafe for her and others.
She, however, feels she could drive…
It’s her birthday,
And the end of the first year
When Alzheimer’s stole much of her mind.
It is also the day
Of her wedding anniversary;
Sixty-four years ago
She married our dad.
She does not celebrate life
Since he died four years ago
But yet we try to celebrate her,
And them, anyway.
I will buy her favorite cake,
Decorated in ribbons and bows and flowers,
And hope it is one of the good days
Where she can find joy.
Regardless she will be surrounded By her children and her best friend As we eat soup and…
My mother has Alzheimer's. It has been progressing at speeds that scare and stun me in the last few months.
Luckily I am not alone on this journey. I have two brothers and two sisters and we have daily conversations about her. We care for her together.
The time came where we started seeing signs of confusion when she was driving. My sister went to a doctor’s appointment with her, and Mom couldn’t remember where the doctor's office was. She has not only been there many times, but it is across from the hospital where she used to work.
I’m quite a personal writer. Often what I write is based on something I observe around me. Often it is people. I love people, I love people watching, and I notice the little things.
I’ve noticed something lately. When I write about people I no longer ask for anyone’s permission.
It wasn’t always that way. If the person were alive I would give them a heads up. This was only if I named them or knew others would know who I was talking about.
If the person had died, I often would ask the person who I thought was the…
My parents yelled when we left the door open. You know, you’re letting the air out. Yet sometimes it’s expedient. It makes it easier to go back and forth. 2020 is like that. We haven’t learned enough from it yet. Let’s leave that door cracked, as we go into 2021.
Thanks to Marla Bishop for closing out the year with this prompt!
Here’s the response of my friend Stephen Dalton.
And another piece of mine.
Kim McKinney often leaves lights on and doors open. She finds she doesn’t lock herself out that way and doesn’t fumble with light switches. She…
I’m kinda afraid of water. I think I’ve been this way forever, though I have had moments that are worse than others.
I swim but am not a strong swimmer. I don’t like to swim underwater. Maybe I can’t. I don’t know, because I choose not to try. It scares me. Yet I can float for days.
We were in the Caribbean. We could see gorgeous fish in the crystal blue water. We had taken snorkeling gear. I put it on, stepped in the water, and just stood there. I panicked. The mask, the idea of swimming in those waters…
When my three youngest nieces were little, I moved back to my hometown. Not having children, I made the decision I wanted to be around them as they were growing up. My job was ending, and though I could have transferred to another job within the company, even the closest possibility was states away.
It proved to be a good decision. We spent a lot of time together. My siblings loved having me around to babysit, especially because I was up for doing all the fun stuff they were too exhausted to do. Slumber party anyone? Concerts? Those crazy things…