I am from trees growing out of concrete, from bottled milk deliveries, black and white TV and Irish stew. I am from the rail road room three story house, noisy, neighborly, with summer breezes blowing through the screens tossing the curtains over my face, cooling the house.
I am from the tomato plants, rose bushes and swing sets in the back yard, the small patch of grass, cool under my feet.
I am from large Sunday dinners, pranksters and beer drinkers, from the Irish with thier brogues and the Germans with their beer.
I am from those who don't know how to stop talking, laughing, crying and praying.
From the fear of the bogey man in the closet and Daddy's bedtime stories and brothers who made me eat worms.
I am from a variety of religions, yet, calling none of them my own. My spirit is one with nature.
I'm from the northeast, corned beef, sauerbraten and lasagna.
From the the mailman and the waitress who fell in love quickly and loved to dance and laugh, the grandmother who bought me nice clothes, the father with curly hair, the other grandmother who disliked Mom because she was Republican!
I am from the black and white wedding picture that now hangs on the wall of my mom's nursing home room, the urn of ashes on the fire place, the songs that still ring loud in my heart. The memories are what I have, some bad, but mostly good as I see their smiling faces in my mind and still feel their love in my heart. That's what keeps them alive, the memories.
I am from the tomato plants, rose bushes and swing sets in the back yard, the small patch of grass, cool under my feet.
I am from large Sunday dinners, pranksters and beer drinkers, from the Irish with thier brogues and the Germans with their beer.
I am from those who don't know how to stop talking, laughing, crying and praying.
From the fear of the bogey man in the closet and Daddy's bedtime stories and brothers who made me eat worms.
I am from a variety of religions, yet, calling none of them my own. My spirit is one with nature.
I'm from the northeast, corned beef, sauerbraten and lasagna.
From the the mailman and the waitress who fell in love quickly and loved to dance and laugh, the grandmother who bought me nice clothes, the father with curly hair, the other grandmother who disliked Mom because she was Republican!
I am from the black and white wedding picture that now hangs on the wall of my mom's nursing home room, the urn of ashes on the fire place, the songs that still ring loud in my heart. The memories are what I have, some bad, but mostly good as I see their smiling faces in my mind and still feel their love in my heart. That's what keeps them alive, the memories.
Peace
31 comments:
That was really beautifully written. I'm from a smaller city, with closer touches of rural- but our stories are quite similar....
beautifully stated. You come from a good place.
Beautiful piece, Odat. You should be proud of this one!
Ian
Wow...Nicely done Odat. Cheers!!
That was fantastic Odat, makes me want to sing to you. Out of respect, I won't. (I can't carry a tune in a bucket).
Monty
Oh hell,
Let me call you sweetheart
I'm in love with you,
Let me hear you whisper
That you love me too.
Keep the home fires burning,
In your eyes so blue.
Let me call you sweetheart
I'm in love with you!
Have a great day, Odat!
Monty
Sweet poem Odat! I like that very much! :D
Why Miss Odat, you made me smile.
I am for slow curve balls over the outside corner of the plate for strike three !!
Gee, thanks!!! It did come from my heart. I get a little meloncholy at this time of year.
There's a great guide on doing one of these "snippets" that I found somewhere on the web and for the life of me I can't find it. If and when I do, I'll post it.
Peace
Wow, that was inspiring. You did a wonderful job with that post.
Wonderful and warm. Beautiful memories and beautifully done!
Twinhead
Beautifully written, Odat...
Odat, this was far and away the favorite of everything I have read of yours. Can I please say that I very much like where you came from...
That's really beautiful. Thank you for sharing your self with us.
that was lovely honey, from the heart.
smiles, bee
The soft side of Odat. Aaaaaah.
Sounds like some pretty good memories to me.
That was great! Well done!
Love it!
I learned a great deal about you...from where you are from. This was a piece of your heart...and from your heart.
What a great poem. I kept expecting to read that it was by some famous author when I got to the bottom.
You know where you're from.
That's cool.
~Oswegan
That was gorgeous, Odat. Thank you so much.
I'm really hungry now. I want sauerbraten!
Thanks all for you oh so generous comments.....you're all so sweet!
Peace
Doesn't like republicans, eh? Funny. Some people just can't let the petty politics go.
Corned Beef and sauerbraten? I'll be over for dinner!
:-D)
Can we have boiled cabbage with the corned beef? You are quite the sentimentalist, and why not? It is wonderful to see the beauty in every circumstance. This post is not melancholy at all, it is really nice. Thanks Odat
Very beautifully said, my dear! :)
Holy shit!!!
Odat that was deep...very deep...fantastic work...
Odat, I agree with everyone about this post.
It is beautifully written. We have a lot in common, the Irish and the German and the simple pleasures!
My mother is German and from New Jersey...need I say more??
you forgot to mention potato pancakes ;-)
That was beautiful.
This was so beautiful. I read it breathlessly, feeling the love (and the worm tasting) as it gathered momentum to the last perfect sentence.
That IS what keeps them alive, the memories. In the end, that is all we have, and all we leave with the ones who follow.
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