on the precipice

on the precipice. taking a leap. what. one says. could drive one to the edge. composing a note to oneself, heralding the day. writing. having not uttered a written word since thoughts from 10.17.15. yes, uttered the written. those sometimes ring loud and clear. do you hear the ding dong. uttered or on paper i challange myelf. wishing left unsaid. not saying the words intended. ding dong,

then in lush earth friendly portland. being real with grandsons, making their parents look really good, when the 8 and 10 year old contend with their mother's mother. looking back according to their mom, remembering the good times. if only that would be so, in life, focus on the love, seeing the love, not carrying hurts and dumbness close to the breast, as though life a card game. the laughter and high jinx, being there in family's day, not to be forgotten. Blessed being with ones i love, catching up in the every day. even in the church one autumn eve. during piano practice, brother attentive and atuned with teacher. the other delightful brother weaving surreptitiously in out under through the church pews. the charge of the light brigade tactics. so very enterprising and funny upon reflection. at the time i wondered how do i corral this pleased fellow. was i to get down on all fours in an attempting corral of my dear loved bright kind and funny grandson. childhood. honest. spontanteous. learning. exploring. thriving. what a gift for my grandsons to have parents who see and hear and feel. knowing boys are tasting sweet boyhood and rollicking in the process.

what you say today causes my lamentng my woe, when i am alive. with family. driving them crazy. reminding my loves what they have survived. having me as their mother. or mother in law, or the granny who adores them, challenging them for the best without crossing the boundary, the interfering. all good thoughts. living them. the goal.

what can be horrible when a life of being alive, and taking in whiffs of woodsmoke warming the hearths, the crisp air. the welcoming sunshine or the relentless rain that i love. so i shall shed my crocodile weeping and admit the foolishness. the helpless sense of losing my earlier text, after so long in not writing. it was at the end of pen to paper with my first missive after so many days passing. what happened. i do not know. inadvertently hitting the wrong key. poof. all gone. no more text. trivial, isn't it. more to life than lost possessions, even if words. actualy there were no tears, just shaking my head. not laughing though i should,

so i sit, write, still challenged with my laptop. not a lot things have i mastered. i go on. others do. one text lost, another written. flowers within my arm's length. given to me by my heartful granddaughter. tulips cuddled in glorious reds, tiptoped in sunshine yellow. green stalks in whimsy. my heart day feasted with deliciousness and movie watching with family. this and seeing photo of grandsons serious in their focus at comic book store. all for one, one for all taking moments in appreciation. forget lost texts. start anew.