The Photograph
November salutes from her western ridge,
caresses faces dear to me radiating faith
that tomorrow dreams will be fulfilled.
Eyes proove hope is something tangible,
patted and molded like Grandma's special cookie recipe,
dough carefully measured and palmed
into smooth balls, perfect bites of love, devoured.
This Thanksgiving they learned the secret ingredient,
listened carefully as she guided them,
apron strings wound 'round a younger generation,
and as I gaze upon these figures silhouetted
against November's sky, atop Grandfather Mountain,
I trace each outline with my finger
(and a boyfriend, added so comfortably),
once again say goodbye to my babies
as they depart from our holiday
leaving me with a heart replenished.
by Margaret Bednar, November 28, 2017
This is written for the prompt "Imaginary Garden of Real Toads, Kerry's Challenge - a Skyflower Friday: "Goodbye"
We had a wonderful Thanksgiving celebration - all six kids home - what more could a mother want? and Grandparents - Grandmother shared her "secret" ingredient for her chocolate chip cookies finally - the kids all enjoyed that and the cookie tradition will continue for the next generation.
13 comments:
Some goodbyes carry with them the promise of when we will meet again. Those are the best kind.
I love the metaphor:
'Eyes proof hope is something tangible,
patted and molded like Grandma's special cookie recipe,
dough carefully measured and palmed
into smooth balls, perfect bites of love, devoured'.
Aw! What a blessing to have them all home again, even for a brief time.
Some goodbyes come with all the sweet and very little (almost none) of the bitter. It is nice to see them go to grow into themselves, and then receive them back with a heart that is ready to delight in all the new experiences they will bring.
Love the image of grandma's apron linking the generations together.
Some goodbyes aren't farewells but a way of saying "to be continued" -- as your poem richly attests in the traditions of family. Even the insertion of a boyfriend into this daughterly matrix doesn't mar the view. May your traditions become richly theirs.
You have captured wonderfully the emotions of being a parent seeing her children growing up and becoming adults.💞 Loved the part where tradition continues to spread and fill everyone's heart with love and warmth.💞
"apron strings wound 'round a younger generation," - a perfect description of the ties that bind and the having to let go is almost unbearable after the closeness you conjured here
I always loved it when all the kids came home for the holidays. Now we are all scattered hither and yon and I dont know when we next will be together in one place. But I hear the happiness in your mother's heart, and I remember. I also love how the people our kids bring home fit so comfortably into the family. That is a beautiful beautiful photo!
What a lovely photo, and family. Easier to let people say goodbye, if you know they will return. Beautiful poem. And the apron strings were a magical image in my eyes.
What a wonderful goodbye... the growing up, and what better way to share the family recipes?...
That is a sweet goodbye joy sprinkled with hope, home, love, and tradition.
The best kind of goodbye - I'll see you again! so much love in this poem. I especially like the detail of grandma's cookies...the way she rolled them into perfect balls. Such details list lives well lived, joy shared.
as they depart from our holiday
leaving me with a heart replenished.
'Replenished' is a brilliant word Marge! It reflects a great satisfaction for their earlier family presence than sadness upon their leaving. They would have wanted it that way too!
Hank
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