Almost Home

I’ve almost forgotten
what it feels like to walk
naturally sure and steady
without the constant click, click, click
of a cane that beats in time to my pace
accompanying every other annoying step
making me feel so old and less than
the woman, mother, person I once was.

I’ve almost forgotten
what it feels like to walk
without pain, with just my dog
and sometimes the moon following along
as we travel to the churchyard and back,
around the block, or to and through
our favorite woods, where the creek
is undoubtedly running high today.

The woods…
I’ve almost forgotten
what it feels like to walk
through their trees, with quiet sounds
that drown out the chaos, while earthy aromas
rise up from dirt paths that give way
to my footsteps, with or without leaves
shuffling or crunching along with us
as we move through our seasons.

I’ve almost forgotten
what it feels like to do
so many things I once loved,
but never really knew how much.
Like, how it felt to just be
the me that I once was – playful, strong, so full
of confidence and myself.  Maybe too full
yet still, underrated.

I’ve almost forgotten, almost.
And, what about you?
What do you see when you look
at me?  I know you miss me too, but
have you also almost forgotten? Do you remember
me at all? Can you even faintly feel the spring breeze
that smells like the woods, and calls to me by name?
It’s whispering to us, howling to us,
“don’t give up, you’re almost home”.

~ smj

“In every frame upon our wall lies a face that’s seen it all
Through up’s and down’s and then more down’s
We helped each other off of the ground
No one knows what we’ve been through
Making it, ain’t making it without you

Maybe I’m not but you’re all I got left to believe in
Don’t give up on me, I’m about to come alive
And I know that it’s been hard and it’s been a long time coming
Don’t give up on me, I’m about to come alive”

I’m About to Come Alive, by Train

Acceptance…

I woke up, thinking about this poem I wrote a few years back called “Grief” (https://samanthamariahjane.wordpress.com/2010/03/10/grief/)…  I was trying to remember the ending…  I couldn’t remember the last step.  I woke up with the words going through my head, and for the life of me, couldn’t remember the last stage of grief.  I had to look and remember… Acceptance.  Yes. That’s it.

I wasn’t sure why this was in my head at first, but then

“Follow Your Bliss”

Someone told me recently, I should not quit my day job. No, I wasn’t singing… (for once).  It was my boss, when I told him I was interviewing for a different job.  He didn’t want me to leave.  Unless I was leaving for my “dream job”.  Then, by all means… he said, I should “follow my bliss”.

“Follow my BLISS”??

I wondered, aloud, if he really thought that my current position was “blissful”? Seriously?   I mean, I get along great with him… but, he was just a part of the so, very not, blissful picture.   In his defense, I think he just meant not to take any old job just to get away from there..  but, still, I found myself wondering, was I following my bliss??  Would this new job I was interviewing for be “blissful”?  I didn’t wonder for long, I was sure it would not be.  It would be a job. 

Wolf Mountain Sanctuary…

I recently learned of this place, thru Dreamwalker’s Blog, called Wolf Mountain Sanctuary when  “Sue Dreamwalker” posted it in the comments section of this post.

Here is the video she shared:

Wolf Mountain (http://wolfmountain.com)

I watched the video… and then, went to the website, where I clicked away through picture after picture of this place, and the beautiful wolves and people there.   I couldn’t help but see green… wondering why I never wound up with a job like this?  Then, I realized they welcome visitors… to come and actually be with the wolves.

Seriously?
Where is this place?
Exactly.

I had to know, because I  immediately knew I wanted to go there, regardless of where it was.   Oh.  California?  *sigh* Of course….  waaaay over in California.  Ok, so definitely not a day trip, and truthfully not exactly in the budget at the moment anyway.  (“Sorry kids.  No Christmas presents for you!  Mom ran off to Wolf Mountain!”.  Hmmm..   ??  yeah… that might not go over so well!)  But, oh.. some day… I’m thinking some very lucky day for me, I’m going to go to this place.  I want it more than I want to go for a ride in a big hot air balloon…. and, I want that pretty badly too.

My Dad….

Happy Father’s Day to my Dad…  who I miss more than words could ever   say……  but, sometimes, I still try to write them out anyway…

A few poems I’ve written about my Dad:

• Heavenly Strikes
• My Angel
• Empty Spaces
• The Blanket
• I wish I knew…

And an old post I made in a different blog about my Dad.. 

June 17, 2007 —

Since it’s father’s day and all, it’s about time I talked a little about my Dad on this blog.  I’ve written quite a bit about my mom… but, not as much on my dad. 

First of all, yes – he was an atheist.  This was only something I was very aware of, because my mother made sure everyone in her circle knew it. To her, it was a BIG deal. But, “atheist” wasn’t a word that my father used much and isn’t one of the top adjectives I’d use to describe him (other than in this blog). It wasn’t like he ran around town with a sign or anything.  He simply told us he didn’t believe in God… and he wasn’t going to go to church with my mom… and he gave us our choice to go with her or not. 

But, lets go way back… 

My Dad was a survivor. 

He was in a major fire when he was 12.  He was burnt on 70% of his body.