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Made from bits of my front yard
11
November 2014
The
Day My Son Came Home
The
first Great War saw tremendous loss. My father was in that was and,
although he came back safe, he was never the same. He was more
serious, quieter, more tense than before. He never talked about his
experiences in war but you could see it on his face and in his
spirit. He saw many of his young soldiers die and you could see that
he was slightly broken inside. When the second Great War began I knew
more daughters would either lose their fathers or their fathers would
come home different men. What I did not expect was to be a mother to
one of the fine young men who served. The day my son left was really
not that spectacular of a day. The sun was shining, the birds were
chirping and the war seemed like something of fiction. I kissed my
baby boy goodbye and watched the spot on the horizon where he
disappeared for as long as I can remember.
The
radio gave us daily horrors of the war but for the most part it told
us how spectacular the Allies were doing. We never saw war in the
Midwest, we only heard about it. On occasion I received letters from
my beloved son. I occupied my time by taking care of my daughters. My
son was the oldest of five but the only boy and he loved all of us.
He told me how much he missed home but he never told me what he saw
or what he did in war. I barely knew where he was at any given time.
Life went on as best as it could with our boy at war but it always
felt lonely and scary. Everyday I looked out my window and imagined
my boy walking down the road to his home. Everyday I hoped and prayed
for his safety.
One
day, as I watched the street out my window, I noticed two very
official cars pull up out front. Two men in uniform got out and stood
watch over the cars as two other men walked to my door. My heart
sunk. My daughter opened the door and the men asked us all to sit. He
regretted to inform me that the Americans and British stormed the
beaches of Normandy. There were many casualties. He apologized for my
loss, saluted me and handed me the dog tags of my son. I became my
father that day. I had never fought a war but I had suffered through
two of the greatest. I had felt pain from both and the last one took
one of my most precious gifts. I said goodbye to my son and never got
to welcome him home again Many mothers lost sons in that war, many
wives became widows, many children became fatherless but without
those brave soldiers we would not be free. I gave one of my children
for the freedom of this great nation. It was a price that was heavily
paid by many and many more would pay the same price in the years
ahead.
12
November 2014
I
Left My Heart in Paris
Cobble
stone paths,
Metro
below ground,
Hidden
parks between apartments,
I
left my heart in Paris.
The
Eiffel Tower sparkles,
Old
bridges line the Seine,
Cathedral
spires kiss the sky,
I
left my heart in Paris.
Fresh,
hot baguettes,
Buttery
pain au chocolat,
Nutella
and banana crepes along the street,
I
left my heart in Paris.
Conquering
The Louvre,
Eating
in Hemingway's cafes,
Biking
through Versailles,
I
left my heart in Paris.
Shopping
for souvenirs,
Hunting
down the best postcards,
Savoring
every memory made,
I
left my heart in Paris.
Bastille
Day parade,
Fireworks
off the Eiffel Tower,
Watching
the sunset at 11 pm,
I
left my heart in Paris.
Discovering
macaroons,
White
wine as we cruise on a boat,
Crème
brûlée on a fancy date,
I
left my heart in Paris.
Looking
up at Napoleon's tomb,
The
magnificence of Marie Antoinette's room,
Relaxing
in the Luxemburg Gardens,
I
left my heart in Paris.
Exploring
Monet's garden,
Stumbling
upon French Polynesian rugby dance practice,
Locking
our love on the bridge,
I
left my heart in Paris.
The
food was perfect,
The
people were wonderful,
I
could not have asked for a better, more cultural stay,
So
I left my heart in Paris.
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