Because it’s My Birthday: Horseshoe Lake (revisited)
I planned to skip today.
I mean, celebrating my birthday with the one who gave me birth being gone now two days shy of only two months just seemed–well, too hard.
I even stripped my birthdate off my Facebook profile so it could pass quietly.
I tried to share my feelings with one family member–perhaps not very well–who shared with another–perhaps not very well–who texted me that I was being selfish.
Grief is selfish?
That person went on to explain–perhaps not very well, but I got the drift–that celebrating my birthday was the same as celebrating my mother.
I added my birthdate back to my profile.
And my wall has been flooded all day with birthday wishes.
These friends reflect Jesus, and I am overwhelmed.
I was above the river in October, wrapped in a little poet circle led by Julia Kasdorf.
She’d asked us each to bring a poem, our own, to read aloud.
To offer it up for discussion and reflection.
For–gulp–critique.
I took this one, written last summer.
And today I’m reposting it–edited and retitled.
Horseshoe Lake
I am from black-and-white two channels,
antenna perched on a post turned
to fuzzy and not-so-fuzzy
by hand in all weather with
window open.
From always Ford, Appian Way pizza, Campbell’s soup, Evening in Paris,
and Avon lipstick samples in the mail.
From Soupy Sales, Ed Sullivan, Sky King,
Kenny Rogers the Jumping Cowboy,
and Tigers baseball.
I am from the little house,
three rooms for five,
kitchen cupboards chartreuse
and gray formica table,
hemmed by woods
and buttoned with a propane tank.
Four log cabins heated with kerosene
for company and customers,
hunters and National Guard,
and a single-seater outhouse
inhabited by snakes.
I am from the birch tree and the Juneberry,
the blueberry bog, wild strawberries, spore-spotted fern forts,
morels, and green pads with yellow bobbers
floating.
I am from one-at-a-time tinsel on the tree,
playing cards, Paul Bunyan tales, rowboats and bluegills
and Thunder Bay pike.
I am from James the shanty boy and Edwin the dulcimer player,
from William the gardener and fresh-picked rhubarb dipped in sugar.
I am from Grandma Dummer and books of the month,
crochet hooks and limburger cheese,
with old-fashioned candies, hard and cream-filled.
From paper and pencils and pages,
manual typewriters and carbon.
I am from clean-your-plate-or-no-dessert
and do-as-I-say-not-as-I-do.
I am from the Golden Rule and the Ten Commandments,
letters to Aunt Emma (Sister Mary Lucinda),
Baptist friends,
a box of scripture verses,
and Sunday funnies.
I am from unleavened pancakes, ambrosia, broiled chicken,
and tiny morsels of liver swimming in catsup
swallowed whole,
soft-boiled eggs and sour cream on everything.
I am from the scent of pipe tobacco and sawdust, coffee and cigarettes,
railroad ties and forest fragrances,
and strains of Oh, What a Beautiful Morning.
I am from the Horizontal Queen of Horseshoe Lake
with the fishhook in her lip,
a bartender with his name on a bullet,
and a wrestling-loving grandmother.
I am from albums black and white and wedding check stubs,
crocheted dresses and a gold-gilded pitcher,
an Alpine costume that no longer fits and a plastic-flowered crown.
I am from wood and earth and water,
feathers and fur and scales
and deep white snow.
When I see where I’m from,
I see where I go.
Window open.
Happy Birthday to me. Thanks, Mom!
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Your mom must be looking down from her vantage point in heaven and smiling!
Happy Birthday, Sandy!
I hope she’s smiling.
Thanks, Sara.
i love these type poems…they say so much about the writer…very cool verse…and i am glad you shared your birthday so you could get all that love…happy birthday!
brian miller recently posted..maintaining positive balances
Hi Brian–thanks.
Shh… Happy Birthday! God made you special.
As He did you.
I loved this poem then, and I love the revision now.
Last year, my 40th went quietly by because it was just too soon (too soon being nine months later!). My 41st is Sunday, and I finally feel ready to celebrate. John and I are going away for a whole week, in search of snow and relational healing.
Megan Willome recently posted..Navigating by St. Mary’s
I thought I was a little crazy to feel that way. I’m glad to hear I’m not alone. Praying for a sweet time for you two. xoxo
Yep. I think this was an excellent way to honor your mom this year. Have fun being the birthday queen! It gives all the rest of us something to smile about.
Nancy recently posted..The Carnival
Smiles are good. You can even laugh at my expense. Makes me happy.
Those were precious moments Sandy, and this is even more beautiful now. More birthday wishes sweet girl and prayers for the comfort of His loving presence.
Linda recently posted..Choices
Oh, they so were, Linda. Not sure we can duplicate the joy of firsts, but looking forward to more precious moments!
It is so hard to celebrate those many milestones and thresholds you’ll cross once our parent is gone. My mom will have been gone for ten years this coming summer. I honestly have forgotten much of the pain I felt in those early days but your sweet words have reminded me. You’re in my prayers, Sandy.
Ah, Beth. There’s the pain and the missing and then the reminder of our own mortality, right? We need to hug all the moments we have. Thanks for your prayers. Hugs.
Hmmm… my birthday is today as well and I live near a Horseshoe Lake. Uncanny!
I loved your poem and could relate on so many levels. God bless you and Happy Birthday!
Jerralea recently posted..God Bumps – How God Gave Us What We Wanted
No way! Happy belated birthday. Now that’s a God bump story for sure!
A very Happy birthday to a very special woman!
Love this!
Louise G recently posted..Visions and other magic
Thanks, Louise. Seeing you here is special!
Paul Bunyan? A Minnesotan? Hope your birthday has blessed you in many ways.
S. Etole recently posted..Bowing Boughs ~
I guess you didn’t know that Oscoda, Michigan is Paul Bunyan’s official home.
Ah yes… this was the most beautiful way to first meet you Sandy! What a beautiful way to remember you making me smile with that “one at a time tinsel on the tree,” and so many other similarities. You are a doll! =)
Your grieving is your own… no one else owns it, controls it, defines or understands it. Sometimes someone else can lighten it… and what a blessing that is. Let him walk you through it (yea, though I walk ‘through’ the valley of the shadow of death…) On this journey… give yourself plenty of grace and space.
Patricia recently posted..Boundary Lines
Thank you, friend. I’m so grateful for all my online/IRL friends who hold me on this journey. Who understand things even some in my own family don’t. Love you.
I’m sorry to hear about your Mom’s passing. One thing I learned at GriefShare when Beloved died: The first time we go some place or do something we did with them will hurt…A LOT.
Mourning is intensely personal, and everyone works through it at their own pace. You might want to look up GriefShare and see if they have a group in your area.
Happy Birthday, Sandy. The sun will shine again.
Susan J. Reinhardt recently posted..Author Interview – Patti Lacy – Part 2 – AND GIVEAWAY
Thank you, Susan! We do have hospice folks available at the ring-a-ding of the phone, and they do send literature. But I will look into GriefShare. Thanks!
Happy Birthday Sandy and thanks for sharing a bit of your story in poem form. So sorry about the loss of your beloved mom… praying that God will comfort you and that you will have the space to grieve as you need…if it is okay, I am sending you a hug.
Dolly @ soulstops recently posted..When a friend sees you
Thank you so much, Dolly. And yes, sending a hug is more than okay. I’m receiving it with open arms.
Oh, I am so glad you decided to celebrate – just a little. And I am so glad your were born. So I thank your mother, too. I hope and pray that today has been rich and meaningful, not just sad, Sandy. But the sadness is part of the journey, you know? Of course, you mourn her loss on this day. And every day.
LOVE the poem – missed it the first time through, I think. And despite the many differences of geography and family history, we share some interesting similarities, too. Tinsel on the tree, for one; rabbit ear TV for another. We are pretty much the same generation, I think. :>)
Happy, happy birthday, Sandy.
diana recently posted..A SLO Day: Spiritual Direction
Thank you, thank you. You always seem to know just the right things to say–and so beautifully, too. I love that we are similar. Of course, you’re a lot taller.
Stunning poem-biography. It tells so much.
Bradley J. Moore recently posted..Moving From Either/Or to Both/And
Thank you, Brad.
This is so fitting for your birthday—-a real blessing to your readers. Thank you for sharing all that shaped you—is shaping you. The first time I read it, I couldn’t comment. I really still can’t explain why this touches me so—but it does. Thank you and Happy Belated Birthday.
Dea recently posted..Life in the Valley
Thank you, Dea. You are a real blessing.
A wonderful poem! It not only says what has shaped who you are, but all that contributes to what you will continue to become. (That’s awkwardly expressed but I’m sure you get my meaning.) Even the grief has purpose, Sandy.
Not awkward at all. Beautiful. Thank you. And yes, grief has it’s own work and purpose.
sigh. my senses delighted in your poem. there was so much to see, to smell, to taste, to touch… absolutely breathtaking poem dear sandra. and happy celebration of your mother, dear friend!
i’m so glad you’re alive.
imperfect prose recently posted..imperfect prose on thursdays: the hour of love
I’m glad you’re alive, Emily. As are so many. Thinking of you and lifting you up.
I’m glad you were born. And reborn.
You are an incredibly beautiful human being. And this? This is absolutely stunning. It might be my new favorite SHK post. But I’ve said that many times before, too. You are always outdoing yourself.
Happy birthday. And happy celebration of your mother. xxoo
I wish we lived closer, my friend. I’d be in every one of your classes. I would.
Love you, girl.
Happy happy birthday! Great people are born in January…..
Susan DiMickele recently posted..Talking to kids about the f-bomb
Here’s to January! My mom’s birthday was January 1.