Friday, October 5, 2007

My Brother the Broken Record

Oh so tiny he was, when my brother was born.
Little fingers, fists as small as acorns.
I loved him from the very start,
Who wouldn’t love such a tiny fart.

I was eight then and he wasn’t even one,
But even then he would listen.
His little eyes would light up,
And little legs would windup,
His lips would twist into a funny shape,
Try as he did, not a sound would escape.

But he didn’t give up, he tried harder still,
Then one day as I perched on the sill,
He looked up at me, with hungry eyes,
And crooned a long “AAAAOW…” to my surprise!

The funny thing is I knew what he meant,
Of course he did have a baby accent,
But it was clear nonetheless,
He was in DISTRESS.

Soon he was fed, and happy again,
He fell asleep smiling in his playpen.
I know why he dreamed so happily,
And it wasn’t the milk in his full belly.
That smile was because he had made his first sound,
His own little voice at last he had found.

Now that little guy has grown quite a lot,
No longer a baby, now he’s a tot,
He talks quite a bit, he knows lots of words,
He can say, “Mama, doggy, and birds”.

He picks up new words wherever he goes,
His little vocabulary just grows and grows.
As smart as he is, and as much as he’s learned,
There is one little thing that keeps me concerned.

I think he has a scratch on his brain,
Now before you panic, let me explain,
He looks perfectly normal on the outside,
I’ve peeked in his ear, to check the inside,
And although it’s mighty dark in there,
I saw nothing that needed repair.

So I’ve decided it must be deep inside,
Where boogiemen and nightmares reside.
Where ever it is I hope it will flee,
Or my sweet little brother will drive me crazy!

Like a scratched CDs will repeat and repeat,
This little guy seems to get offbeat,
His mind won’t move on, it refuses to budge,
On one word, it gets caught in the sludge.

Try as I might, I can’t stop his quote,
And all he will say is, “Boat, boat, boat, boat…”
I try to distract him, or leave the room,
And though he may pause he will always resume.
Once he’s stuck on this word, he won’t let go,
Over and over his voice will echo.

So if you can help him I wish that you would,
Someone else’s help might do him some good.
I love him a lot so try to be gentle,
Please fix him up quick, before I go mental!

Sunday, September 23, 2007

Wonderful September Weekend

What a beautiful warm fall weekend. Jo and Greg, Erica and Ryan, mom and dad and of course all our gorgeous children enjoyed a family meal Friday night. The deck table was set with candles and freshly fallen leaves. The food warm curry on rice, flatbread and chai tea. And so much good fortune celebrated.

Its funny how sometimes happenings take us by surprise and we are not immediately grateful but looking back it is very clearly a blessing.

the warm breeze in conversation,
colour lush leaf of laughter,
curried stew swirled in candle light,
blessed we are unknowing.

A small hint of the future,
sparks lit not yet ignited,
we know the fire will alter,
all forest grown in nuture.

The smoldering remains,
fertile soil,
seeds barren and waiting,
for a new start.

But the spark for now remains,
only a spark among the flames,
swirled daringly in crisp fallen leaves,
not yet a flame consuming trees,
blessed in here and now,
blessed after exchanged vow.

This is how I feel upon reflection of our warm family dinner party. I feel blessed to have been altogether laughing, eating, being... Yet there was a small voice that whispered "remember this night, for things are about to change." I feel hopeful for Erica and Ryan as they move closer to the day they will be married.

Tuesday, September 18, 2007

In the Beginning

Once again my beautiful friend Liz has inspired me, without knowing, to do something very worthwhile! ... and here it is... our blog!
My family is to me like sunshine. They may not be at their brightest everyday but without them there is nothing.