Tag Archives: Family

Family gossip

 

They turned over and over again
In their conversation
What exactly was wrong
With their less successful, more flawed family
(the ones not present)
They discussed why and how
But mostly what.
All the things they were doing wrong
All the choices they were making wrong.
Implicitly entrenching their own identities
As the socially accepted
Correct ones
The ones who make the right choices
The ones who know what to do
The ones who are
Better at least
Than these other ones.
Pity is their imagined superiority.
Anger is where they were bruised.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


Journal – the best compliments

I realized I’ve been hiding my real writings recently.  Oops, bad Sarah. No secrets. Be open.

It sure was comfortable while it lasted, haha.

 

Something nice to muse upon… what is the best compliment you ever received?

 


I was watching old home movies
I saw mom laughing again
The elegance in her hands
Her purity

Kid me came up to her with the camera
I said, “What are your thoughts on life?”
“I’m for it,” she quipped.
“What are your thoughts on death?”
“Also for it.”
Her philosophy would be tested and proved
later in life,
later in death.
She may not have known this word for it,
But she was very Tao.

I always saw mom in me
Her philosophical side,
Her creativity
Her crazies
Her acceptance.

The best compliment I ever received
Was from friends who never really knew mom
They told me I was just like Dad.
Something I had never considered before.
But once I did I knew it was true.

I got his outrageous side,
His caring
His extroversion
His stoicism
His sense of humor.

Both were nonconformist
Both were strong
Both were smart
Both were brave
Both were loving.

I am lucky, so lucky
To have had such parents
I am lucky to have a family
Bound tightly together in common tragedy
I know true tribalism
It’s wonderful
To know who you are
To have a place
To have a role.

Everyone has ever been so good to me
As good as they knew how
They have taught me how to be good to others
Some lessons better than others
I am grateful for everyone
I try to deserve what I have
But not too hard.
Trying too hard to deserve something
Makes you deserve it less,
grow unbalanced.
I must love me
If I am to love others.
Odd that being in the presence of my heroes
Should make me feel so small
We spend our time
Building each other up
And I always leave
Feeling smaller
Undeserving
These people are my people
My family
I love them unconditionally
And they me
I just have to love myself
Unconditionally.

The cat gave me a compliment today.
She waited outside the shower for half an hour
I take long showers
And when I came out
She purred, happy to see me
Rubbed against my wet leg
Knowing she would get wet
Deciding it was worth it.

My sister tells me to come visit.
I say, I have a nasty cold.
She says, then I’ll make you soup.
The joy of my visit outweighs
The physical discomfort I bring.

Love should not be measured in sacrifice.
The pleasure should outweigh the pain
By a grand margin.
However, it can be a small proof
Here and there
Little heartwarming gestures.
Someone gives you roses
You know they gave up some time and money for them.
Someone gives you food
They made just for you.
Someone reads your blog
Every day.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

Journal – On Overcoming Fears

 

When I was a kid

I was afraid of the dark.

I used to make myself walk down the hallways in the dead of night

With the lights off

Just to prove … I don’t remember what

Maybe it was pride.

Maybe I despised my own cowardice.

So I just looked at the light switch

Then stared down the demons in the dark.

 

I hadn’t gone to the dentist in eight years

A lost filling finally drove me to the waiting room

Where I sat, my stomach knotty with fear.

After that I kept up with my dentist visits

Through crowns and drills and fillings lost and gained

And stainless steel needles the size of Montana

Culminating in my most recent visit

A small filling restored with,

By my own request,

No numbing agent.

I found it was nothing I couldn’t handle.

Now when I go, I marvel

At my lack of fear.

 

I never allowed myself the luxury of feelings

Afraid that they would hurt others.

This has been the worst fear to overcome.

I have progressed from exploring my emotions,

To writing them out,

To showing them to the world

My family

And hardest of all, my dad.

Because I loved him the most

I hid the most from him.

Protecting him from my unhappiness

Afraid he would blame himself

Or worry about me.

Today he called me

Asked if I was feeling okay

He’d read my bleak poem

And worried.

I reassured him, the poem was old.

When I hung up the phone

I wondered

At my stability in the face

Of what had just happened.

Dad had seen one of my darkest pieces.

And he had worried.

But things are different now.

I can be honest with him.

His humanity doesn’t break me.

My own humanity doesn’t break me.

The self-loathing spiral

Never came.

 

Now I have to keep posting

As if I didn’t know he was keeping up on the blog.

Or rather, I know that he is,

But I am able to be honest now.

Sometimes I want to die

Sometimes I want to stab something

But mostly I love my life

And although I still cherish my family,

I no longer idolize them,

Or feel the need to protect them.

 

I have always considered myself uncommonly lucky

In family and friends.

Today I can feel lucky

And not feel guilty too.

I can feel grief and pain

Just as easily as I can feel love.

 

But most of all,

I can feel.

 

And I feel grateful.

And I feel free.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

Husk. Also my brother is amazing

Allow me a moment to brag on my big brother. He’s got a blog too, actually, on financial freedom.

https://goldengooseguide.com

He’s been blogging for a year and only had about twelve posts total but he’s already gone viral. WTF Josh. Of course he’s engineered it well with the social media, the eye-catching titles, and original well-thought-out content. He’s the oldest so he does everything well. It’s fascinating to me that no matter how similar we might be in genetics and values and upbringing, our blogs turned out to be nearly complete opposites.

I would feel competitive with him, but he’s so far beyond my limits that I just give up say, good for him. I love him tremendously, so I must be happy for him. And it helps to know, in my heart of hearts, that I can always move into his basement.

Welp, time to air my insecurities again.


 

 

There was a while there

When I wrote gold

I spun golden threads from flax

I wove silk from cotton

I was an unstoppable force

What happened?

I ran out

I spent myself

Now I’m just a husk

Remembering her glory days

A husk

So dry

So dry.

What is a husk?

Was I once a bright and sweet ear of corn?

What else has a husk?

Mummies are husks

Many plants have them

And so am I

 

My seed is gone, germinated

And all that is left

Is this husk

A reminder

That once here was life

That once

I too was human

And vibrant

And full

Pregnant with life

With ideas

With words

Words like you’d never heard before

I had rhymes

I had every kind of poem

All that I touched was given power

With language alone

I animated the minds of others.

Now this.

This husk.

This weak and tired

Crispy

Dry

Thing.

It’s fall

I’ve been harvested.

Nothing left in me

Until next spring.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

Things Grandma Had

 

I think I’m going to reduce to posting once a weekday instead of twice. My creative juices are starting to run a bit dry and need to re-moisten. You know how creative juices are. It’s hard to run with an idea if you’re not well-lubed with creative juices.

Well, this was gross. Let’s never talk about creative juices again.

 


 

Grandma had a gumball tree.

We would play in her yard

Climb the tree

She used to marvel aloud

at how high we could get

and we’d flush with pride.

 

Grandma had a kitchen table.

She used it well

Heaping it with purchased food

sweets the neighbors had given her

dishes her family had cooked.

 

Grandma had four sons.

Three with families

All tall men

Every able-bodied son or grandson

would bump their head

against the low-hanging chandelier.

It was a family joke.

 

Grandma had cable TV.

We would watch it

and eat ice cream from her freezer

unsupervised

late into the night.

 

We spent time at Grandma’s

watching TV

and eating

and talking

and eating

and sometimes she would take us out

to eat.

By the time we left her house

we had costume jewelry

or a dollar store trinket in hand.

She wasn’t satisfied

unless you left

belly hard-packed with food

and both hands full of gifts.

When we got home

we couldn’t eat again

for twenty-four hours.

 

Grandma had a lot of things.

Grandma was a hoarder.

She survived the Great Depression.

But she gave

everything.

She once tried to give me

functional furniture

right out of her kitchen.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

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