Thursday 27 February 2014

Pocket Of Love

My life has been hectic with more work hours and therefore I am in want of writing and singing time. (And I'm behind on housework, but oh well.) I often would just stay up late to accommodate these things as, really, who needs sleep? But lately I have usually been getting adequate sleep. Having a cuddly toddler that I know is growing fast may be a contributing factor. I'll have a workout planned or some housework, but she falls asleep on me and I just don't want to let go. Oh, I cherish having her close. 

While contemplating writing during lunch today, I remembered my old poetry, and thought I would take a look. I found a poem on Love that I wrote sixteen years ago. Sixteen years ago would have been when I struggled to feel. When I felt invisible. When I was full of fear and nerves. When I was terribly insecure and lacked the trust to let anyone in. When I honestly wondered if I could ever be close to anyone. 

They say you write out of what you hope for in life. That's why our culture is full of love songs. I hoped for the ability to genuinely care for another and believe the sentiment was reciprocal. I know many out there question if it will ever be, and I pray they experience a turn-around comparable to the one met by my heart. Involvement. Tenderness. Devotion. Unconditional love.

Now I have more than was even conjecturable in my hopes back then. 

Pocket of Love
1998

Every night when I climb into bed
And I am warm and content and comfy 
I pray quietly to the Lord above 
That He helps me spread the Love that is in me 

I pray that He gives me the strength 
To ignore those who try to give me pain 
And to retaliate with a kind word 
To those insisting on doing it again 

I pray that a smile will remember to occur 
During every single occasion appropriate 
And a laugh will brightly escape my lungs 
Whenever there is any room for it 

I pray that when the sky is gray 
And when my heart is suffering in sorrow 
That Love will come and heal my wounds 
And help me make it to tomorrow 

I pray that I will succeed greatly 
In giving Love to those I hold dear 
And when all seems to be a fight 
This Love will never disappear 

I pray that I will never cease 
To be open minded, to forgive and forget 
And all of those who cross my path 
Will desire to keep the Love they just met 

And when the day has come to an end 
And I thank the Lord above 
My wealth will still have more to give 
From my bottomless pocket of Love


Friday 21 February 2014

You Are Our Girl

Today I was cleaning the kitchen and I looked over at your dad as he intently watched you play. Pride beamed on his face. He doesn't get to watch you independently play very often. You would rather directly interact with him when he is home. Restle. Climb. Walk the dogs. Snack. Draw. Cuddle in front of a movie. 

But today, he stood in the hallway, lovingly looking into your room. I asked what you were doing. He said you were tenderly cradling each stuffed animal in your arms while speakingly sweetly to their faces. Then you put them in your bed and wrapped them up all cozy in a blanket. Then you gingerly kissed each one. All the while continuing to softly talk to them. Then you turned on your sound machine so they could have a nice sleep.

Your father smiled at you. He admired your tender care. This side of you he doesn't get to see too often. Just like back when you first started to walk. During the day we would practice many times. I would watch you fall. Try again. Become more sturdy. But as soon as dad got home you wanted to be in his strong, loving arms. You had no reason to walk because you most certainty wanted daddy to pick you up. 

Fortunately, when you delay presenting a new talent for dad, that means that I get the joy of the experience more than once. I can tell him about something that you have done. But it isn't the same as seeing it for himself. And when he does, I love to see the big smile on his face.

Which happens so much. You awe us every day. With the intricate things you notice. The abundance of words you come up with. The selection of events you remember. And the inspiring compassion that you express. You are so loving and so caring. 

The other day we were in the grocery store and you saw another toddler. You were curious about the other girl's name and so I told you that you could go ask. This is a question that is very often included in our day. From people we pass to the characters in our books to the faces on television.

Currently we have been watching some Olympics on television. You get excited when each sport starts. "They're skiing!!" And then you ask me the name of the competitors. Sometimes I have to reply that I don't know. Sometimes I tell you to wait and I'll let you know when the name is posted. It makes me more aware of who each person is. It makes me think of the importance of recognizing everyone.

I try to remember all the characters in your books. Good thing that one about the dog-walker was a library book. So many names to remember. 

You have a genuine interest in people. When we were skating at the arena a little girl fell and we had to go over to see if she was okay. I've heard those words leave your mouth numerous times. "Are you okay?" And you don't just throw it out there. You want a response. You want to know we are okay. 

And, of course, we are. We have a beautiful, intelligent, sweet daughter to love. We get to watch you learn and grow every day. You are our pride and joy. 

You are our girl.