Carol A. Hand
***
Ah, little Pinto
a faithful friend
so dawg-on cute
in a cobbed-together
red winter suit
because he’s grown
a tad too tubby
***
A Faithful Friend
Seventy-One Winters
Carol A. Hand
Grateful for greeting
my seventy-first winter
on an almost silent snowed-in morning
amazed that I can still shovel snow
day after day after day
and remain grateful
for a simple life with so many blessings
*
for the daughter who takes time
from busy days to call just to talk
for the handsome hard-working grandson
who is kind and thoughtful
and remembers to send his love
for the granddaughter
whose presence lights up a room
for work to do that helps me stay engaged
and feel that what I have learned
can be of value to others
for friends who are here in times of need
and for the ancestors and wise beings
who have visited me in dreams and visions
helping me return and remain true
to the humble purpose for which I was born
seventy-one years ago
*
Christmas 2017
Carol A. Hand
Greeting christmas morning 2017
grateful for a peaceful scene
finger-freezing cold but bright
snow magnifying sun’s winter light
Grateful for family gathering and sharing
memories of times past, laughter and caring
warmth in connecting despite the frigid weather
the greatest gift precious time spent together
***
***
Sending out loving warmth and prayers for peace to all
***
For Each Child Who’s Born…
Carol A. Hand
***
Imagine what the world would be
if you honored each child born as you honor me
A gift from the force of life, the creator, to the world
a greater treasure by far than thrones impearled
The essence of hallowed life to grace the earth
released with each miraculous birth
The humblest child a wondrous sight
May your heart embrace all children as sacred this blessed night
***
We Are, performed by Ravi
***
We Are (by Dr. Ysaye M. Barnwell)
For each child that’s born a morning star rises
and sings to the universe who we are
We are our grandmother’s prayer
We are our grandfather’s dreamings
We are the breath of the ancestors
We are the spirit of God.
We are
Mothers of courage
Fathers of time
Daughters of dust
Sons of great vision
We are …
Sisters of Mercy
Brothers of Love
Lovers of Life and
The Builders of Nations
We are Seekers of Truth
Keepers of Faith
Makers of Peace and
The Wisdom of Ages
We are our grandmother’s prayer
We are our grandfather’s dreamings
We are the breath of the ancestors
We are the spirit of God
We are ONE.
***
Remembering…
Carol A. Hand
Seven years ago, my mother passed away in the early morning. She was 89. During the last 13 years of her life, she gradually lost her memories and her abilities to care for herself and communicate. I was thinking of her yesterday at sunset and decided to repost the poem I wrote for her two years ago.
Mother, I Remember
Dear Mother, I remember as a child
The trips to New York City and to the Jersey shore
Camping in Cape Cod, and the Adirondack Mountains
Trips on boats, splashing in the ocean
Picking berries in the woods and laughing
Only realizing later that we were spared by
the copperheads that called the woods home
I remember the many times you cried
because you couldn’t bear the loneliness and pain
from an abusive husband who knew the way to hurt you most deeply
was to hurt the daughter you loved
But we were both survivors, you and I
I remember watching you when I was a teen as you cared for elders
and dealt with cranky staff with such kindness and diplomacy
A gifted healer and peacemaker despite the abuse you couldn’t stop
I remember that I understood from a very early age
that you didn’t see your beauty or your worth
I didn’t know how to help you or myself for awhile
***
***
I remember there were many years when we didn’t meet often
You had your work to keep you busy and I had mine
Yet you always found time to send letters and cards
from Pennsylvania, Arizona, New Mexico, and Wisconsin
when you returned to the place where you were born
to use your skills to get federal funding for a health center
on the Lac du Flambeau Ojibwe reservation
I remember how frightened you were to testify before Congress
How proud you were of this accomplishment
and how disappointed when the center was named after the tribal leader
whose bitterness almost sabotaged the project
I remember when I was a little older
Driving this road to your northwoods home
so many times, from so many directions
in too many different cars to recall
Only this time, the drive is different
I’m crying so hard it’s hard to see the road ahead
I’m not coming with my family to celebrate a holiday,
or taking time away from work to answer your plea for help
because you’ve grown fearful and weary of Father’s abuse
I’m not coming to help you move to the elder apartment complex
or the assisted care facility because you can no longer remember
how to care for yourself, or even who I am
This time I’m coming to bid you farewell one last time
I will always remember the love and the laughter,
the tears and the pain as I hold your hand and
gently caress your cheek and smooth your silvered hair
as you lay in your hospital bed, struggling to breathe, dying.
I kiss your cheek and whisper.
“I love you, Mother. I always have. I know I will miss you
But it’s okay to let go now Mother and go home.
You’ll finally be free from suffering.”
It’s been seven years since your death
But I still remember…
***
Reflections about Being a Parent and Grandparent
Carol A. Hand
When my daughter was born,
my view of the world forever changed.
“To have
a child
is to decide
to have
your heart
forever
walk around
outside
your body.”
(anonymous)
Life was no longer something I peered at
from a safe distance
I felt it deeply – glowing in my heart
Powerful, shifting emotions
forced me to realize how precious
and precarious life can be
Holding each of my grandchildren for the first time
intensified my sensitivity and commitment
to do all in my power to be a loving presence
Watching them as they grow
amplifies both joy and pain
celebrating their accomplishments
suffering when they encounter challenges
***
Sometimes all I can do is
to simply try to be a loving presence
***
In times such as these it’s not easy
to believe the future holds bright possibilities
Let our hearts awaken and glow
with celebratory joy
***
Contemplating Impermanence
Carol A. Hand
***
Awakening to bird song just before sunrise
Heart touched with a mixture of deep awe and sorrow
Aware of the impermanence of life and beauty
Wondering how many song birds will survive ‘til tomorrow
In a world where cats and sleep-walkers roam free and kill
***
“Be Here Now”
Carol A. Hand
***
Let me be fully present here, in this moment
Focusing on opportunities to send out love and healing
Not frozen in yesterday’s hurts and disappointments
Not constrained by the bleakness of the surrounding landscape
Not controlled by the fear and chaos swirling about in other places
Not concerned about tomorrow’s uncertainty
I only have this moment,
now,
to radiate peace and joy
***
***
Acknowledgments:
For my beloved daughter who inspired these reflections…
Title drawn from the work of Baba Ram Dass (1971), Be Here Now.
***
Morning Sunrise March 4, 2017
Carol A. Hand
Life goes on despite sudden loss
The sun still rises
gloriously
Responsibilities remain
needing to be met
graciously
***
***
Adieu
Carol A. Hand
The love of my youth is dying
On earth, this lifetime, we’ll not meet again
A long life is sometimes a blessing
but surviving dear friends brings such pain
Truly gentle men are so rare to find
The world doesn’t treat them well
They often ease disappointments silently
with distractions to escape an inner hell
À bientôt, my beloved friend
May you finally know peace deep and true
Please know you’ll always remain in my heart
Though, from afar, I must send my final earthly loving adieu
February 27, 2017
for David
There are so many better ways to say “farewell” in French. It’s the language of the heart. I turn to it now to express the depth of my grief and sense of loss.
Voices from the Margins 