If I could
make time stand still
I would have made
this one bright day
last for years
just me and you
bathed in brilliant
sharp-edged
autumn light
your beautiful pensive
baby face
considering
fallen willow-oak leaves
stretching beneath us
like a russet rug
as you swing
in and out
of my shadow
you cannot know
(not now, anyway)
how I treasure
these moments
this day
and you
but one day you will
oh, if I could make
time stand still
Looking back…
every day a wonder
every day a celebration
every day new
because of you
beautiful
independent-minded
serious
precious
kiss-blowing
dog-adoring
music-loving
beatbox attempting (!!)
baby girl
one whole year
of life transformed
by exponential love
every day
on this day
praise to God on high
for the profound gift
of you
my prayer
on looking back
at every day
of this past year
is wrapped with thanksgiving
and tied with the ribbon
of utter joy
for all our days to come
looking forward
Happy first birthday, Micah. With so much love, every day – Franna
My beautiful Micah, this is what you are like at ten months old:
noticing everything, babbling (na na na is, in fact, part of Franna)
mimicking, clapping, squealing, discovering your tongue
and crawling down the hall to see where I’ve gone
—I am right here, little beloved, rejoicing.
My beautiful Micah
Let us be about
imagining the bridges
we could be building
Nine months
since you entered the world
making mine
exponentially beautiful
every single day
Three years
since your Grandpa
had a massive heart attack
while driving
and the deputy sheriff
came to tell
your future dad, uncle,
and me (Franna)
that he’d run off the road
and was being taken
to the hospital
where we were told
he’d been resuscitated
they weren’t sure
he’d make it
he did
Grandpa lived
to see you
love you
and call you
“little angel”
I say
there must be
some mighty ones
all around
Micah, 9 months, looking up at her Grandpa ❤
a reverso etheree
Hey
it’s me
I’m trying
can’t you see that
you’re my everything
you center my small world
even if I don’t have words
I adore you beyond measure
I know you’re busy but I am here
believing in you and your love for me
believing in you and your love for me
I know you’re busy but I am here
I adore you beyond measure
even if I don’t have words
you center my small world
you’re my everything
can’t you see that
I’m trying
it’s me
Hey
Micah, 8 1/2 months. How you adore your parents.
How your family loves you so.❤ Franna
My six-year-old granddaughter found the comics section from the Sunday newspaper I recently purchased (first time since I can’t say when). After poring over the funnies, she asked:
“Franna, can we do the crossword puzzle?”
Girl after my own heart…
“Sure, let me get a pen!”
On her own, she figured out ache for ‘Dull pain’ and treat for ‘Dog’s favorite word, probably’.
Then she asked: “What’s ‘Digital pet of the ’90s’?”
“Oh! Mister had one when he was little,” I replied (Mister is what she currently calls my son. This kid…). “I haven’t thought of it in years. A Tamagotchi.”
“Tamagotchi?! What is that?!”
I tried to explain.
Blank expression.
I looked it up and showed it to her on my phone.
She looked dubious.
There was only one logical thing to do….
It arrived today.
She picked it out (yes, they’re still out there; she chose one decorated like an ice cream cone).
She was, in a word, enraptured. Could hardly wait for the egg to hatch so she could figure out how to feed her Tamagotchi. And clean up after it. That was what puzzled her most when I was trying to explain how this thing….er, pet….works.
She’s a quick study in everything: “It wants my attention! Ohhhh nooo…it’s not happy! All its hearts are empty! Help! What do I do to make it happy?”
We tried to play a game with it but apparently we only made it mad.
Fortunately, Mister arrived around this time. With all the expertise of a previous Tamagotchi owner, he fed this digital pet of the ’90s a ton of snacks and filled all its hearts with happiness.
Then, with pure delight, my granddaughter cleaned up after it.
“When I am busy, you will have to Tamagotchi-sit,” she told my son, with authority.
I wonder if I am enjoying this too much…and if he remembers there’s an on/off switch…maybe I should remind him…
—Nah.
My granddaughter, waiting for the egg to hatch. By the time they left this evening, Tamagotchi had grown quite a bit and remained happy with all the attention it was getting (have fun with that, Son…).
Today I kept you
and you cried because it’s new
so we went outside
to see all the trees
you touched the green leaves sweetly
with your baby hand
and you looked up high
at the pines rattling with song
cicadas, at last
first time this season
oh how I love their comfort
oh how I love you
joy
It is the season
of newness
of flowering
of fresh color
of cloudless sky
so blue it hurts
it is the season
of grass
of earth
of birth
of birds
of Eastertide hatchlings
leaving nests
to wing their way
through the world
it is the season
of contemplation
of existence
of life
of purpose
of time
not standing still
and therefore being
infinitely
piercingly
precious
Micah contemplates pink sorrel and a piece of pine straw
lit bits and pieces 