My Life
Through all the many lessons of my sixty years has been:
No matter how you plan or prepare for your future. It just isn't sure.
When I was 17 years old I married my sweetheart. We were so in love, the life we shared was called by some, a "love story", a "fairy tale". We were married nine and a half years, had two beautiful little boys. Life was the best, everything was going just the way we planned. One day he went for a car part I kissed him good-by and told him I loved him. I never seen him after that. Well, I seen him through a blue veil at the funeral home. He had been killed by a drunk driver. No matter what I did I couldn't make my home, my life the same for our boys and myself. I learned that day Life doesn't go on. For me it did but not for him and my life has never been the same. We planned to grow old together. I have grown old, he is gone but not forgotten. A love like ours is stronger than the grave. Life is a vapor a breath a song. No matter how we plan, for some it is soon gone.
The last Family Thanksgiving
A beautiful day started just right
the family all came
like the years before
they began to talk
someone remembered
the last time we were here
we had thanksgiving
slept on the porch
no you must be wrong
there never was one
but oh I remember
a shush o'er the the eating
as a secret revealed
Mother had gone
to an old boyfriends house
she'd told the kids
it was grandma's house
the fight that ensued
Dad stood up
said he was through
first the potatoes flew
into Mom's hair
then with a sneer
she threw the gravy
his head was drenched
someone said
pass me the turkey
and everyone did
needless to say
it was a free for all
as cranberry sauce
slid down the wall
screaming and yelling
some started to cry
as Mom said the children
are mine
you have just one of the five
that was the end of the free for all
AT THE END
The night was warm
stars were shinning
just after the storm
air so fresh
no place to mourn
wed gone for a walk
we liked to do
to sooth our heart
our spirit too
down the road
up the river
we'd lighten our load
the burden was great
pain in our heart abode
the shadows moved
the hoot owls hooted
a sound that was new
came from the banks
where the waters grew
the storm wasn't over
we'd been deceived
we'd run for cover
as the river over flowed
over the road
the river moved
the wave that took us
a heavier load
we were pulled and thrown
like a rag doll
so small and helpless
with no strength of our own
Our lungs filled with water
yet we still strove
wrapped about a limb
no way to move
she no longer cried
I knew for sure she had died
I flowed with the torrent
beaten and bruised
at the end we stood
my friends and I
no longer grieved
for we had died
On our sixteenth holloween
Jenny Ford
A letter to myself
# Dear self:
I hope you are fine and everything has turned out the way
you wanted, nothing goes as planned as you already know
remember to be kind to yourself. When you forget where you left
your keys don't let it bother you, when the kids don't have time for you
and it seems the grandbabies are too full of their own lives, don't
cry, remember you were their age once.
love and prayers
Your self