My dad had a way of giving advice or giving out punishment in a very tricky way.He wouldn’t scream,yell or even raise his voice.Sometimes it would have been easier ,to hear him bellow that I messed up. Than to hear “CheriAnn can you see me in the kitchen”.I would creep down the steps and turn the corner,I would see it.A loaf of uncut rye bread and a slab of cream cheese. I was either in trouble,or he saw trouble coming and had advice.
Now if the rye bread was already cut,I would take a deep breath and sigh,I wasn’t in trouble. If it had to be cut and he had the saw-toothed knife,and started cutting bread,I did something that was not good,usually really not good.However I was always grateful whatever the situation was,that my dad was home to handle it.My mothers way,well.i hate the idiot that invented belts. So my dad would always start with, a question and we would go from there. Usually a half of loaf later I usually was crying even if it was good advice. He tried,he tried in his way to keep me off the wrong roads.
The other day I was at the super market and saw in the bakery rye bread,I picked up the already cut loaf,a brick of light cream cheese. And went home, it was late and my daughter was up. I asked her what was wrong,she didn’t answer just kept texting. I called her to the kitchen, “how about some rye bread and cream cheese”.
To my dad how I miss you ….5/11/06
Sitting on my back porch
The activities begin.
My hair wisps lightly
From the sun and the wind.
I watch my backyard just to see
Who is watching back carefully.
In the corner is their favorite spot,
If I sit here everyday,I see them a lot.
Little brown bunnies,wrinkle their nose.
Eating all the clover,as quickly as it grows.
My skin is warming gently from the sun.
Sipping on my diet Pepsi,the fun has just begun.
I put on my music and start to read a book.
One chapter in I take another look.
The tree in my corner,cherry blossom white.
Sways gently as it reaches night.
Dusk is coming and the time in between.
Sun is still shining as it sinks fading.
All the bugs come dancing,around my porch light.
Getting ready for the long night.
I will sit one more hour,as I hate to go in.
Its my time for God and me,to talk from within.
As I finish chatting,my soul begins to heal.
The backyard is my healing place.
A Nirvana I can see is real.
Standing at the water’s edge.
I look across the land.
The wind is blowing tears.
I then feel your hand.
Walking we talk about the pain.
Inside my heart.
I didn’t know,what way to turn.
I didn’t know were to start.
With me you say a smile so bright,
Lay your trouble at my feet.
I return with a nod “but I’m in so deep”.
Never matters how far you are.
I will answer my child,
All you do is knock.Ill return your refuge.I Am your rock.
Standing at the waters edge.
I turn to give thanks.
All I feel is wind blowing.
Across the land.
Knowing all of it is you.
As you touched my hand.