My Parents, by Maria Zeeman

One day in class I asked the question, “How did your parents meet?” This was Maria’s answer. The rest, as they say, is history.

Bonnie

The year was 1920.

They were 19 years, best girl friends, having fun walking and flirting with the sailors on the quay in Amsterdam. All three girls worked for the telephone company and felt pretty special. They were high school graduates,(which was special because at that time that was mainly for the boys) and they had a pretty good and fun job.

My mom told us that she saw this handsome, sturdy sailor with deep brown eyes and a lusty laugh. He came closer; they talked, looked into each other eyes and were in a world of their own. The girls laughed and teased them - “Don’t be too serious Maria, he’s just a sailor.”

My mom came from a well to do family. They lived in the city. My dad’s father was a traveling salesman; his mother was a fisherman’s daughter with little education, living in a small village. They sent my dad to work on the ships at age 13. So he was tough. My mom was still innocent, but they got married within a year of that day in July 1920. They loved each other, and they wanted many children (they got 8). They always showed us how important it is to love, trust, and respect each other through thick and thin. Each Mother’s Day he gave her a BIG bouquet of flowers and always said “thank you for giving me so many children. I love you.”

It sure helped us to go through some very difficult times. I consider myself lucky that I was granted the parents I had.

"WHERE I'M FROM" by Tiana Diaz

We have another guest writer this week. Enjoy and respond to this   "WHERE I'M FROM" by Tiana Diaz (Kacie's 10 yr. old granddaughter)

I am from my mom, from Coco and Channel
I am from the smelly, beautiful house
I am from the Magnolia blossoms, the flower of Louisiana
I am from "Tacos and Beer" and sadness, from Papa I love and Cullens I know
And Mom  I miss from summer

I am from the laughter and the yelling and happiness
From don't drink the soda or spiders will come out your stomach
And don't put your fingers in the door
I am from God
I'm from Bellflower and tamales
From Papa, the Vietnam vet , Gram, the "Blue Witch" and Mom who threw the butter knife

I am from a million picture  albums  
 

 

 

 

                                         

I AM FROM, by Gail Earl

Another “I am from” poem – this one is from Gail and it reveals lovely memories in succinct phrases. Read. Enjoy. Imagine.

Please consider making a comment or even submitting your own version of this lovely poem. ~ Bonnie

I am from teapot messages

from wooden bowls and red vases

I am from the gathering place, and Yuban in the air

I am from the tomatoes bursting red

The plumb tree, whose limbs are gone

I remember as if they were my own.

I am from whistles and dancing in the basement

from Donald and Elizabeth
I am from blue eyes and tender hearts
and from laughers with gusto.

I am from "your eyes are going to stay like that"

and 99 bottles of beer on the wall
I am from family vacations
I'm from the East and the Irish
the pot roasts and the Tortes
From the scarred shoulder and leg
from a world war
the crystal faces displayed on a table
embedded in my heart

I am from a sisterhood

I am from lesson learned and lessons shared.

I am from the heart.

 

I Am From, by Yolanda Adele

Here is another in our series of “Where I'm from” poems. I cannot get enough of these! It has been such a rewarding assignment, with such varied and enjoyable results. Each gives us a glimpse into the life of one of our writers. If you have not yet written one, please see the instructions and links here. HERE

This one, from Yolanda, is a joy to read and I suspect that it will stir up memories of your own.
 

Bonnie

 

I am from an era of great hope for nations after World War II,

I am from the summers of Good Humor Ice Cream trucks chiming; beckoning children to run to it from all sides of the old neighborhood.

I am from the sweet aromas that the Helms Bakery trucks held in its highly polished blond-hardwood pull- out drawers,

I am from drinking milk delivered to the house and licking the cream off the bottle cap,

I am from Toni Home Perms and hula hoops. 

I am from petticoats and bobby socks, angora sweaters, pedal pushers, and wearing his ring around my neck,

I am from jukeboxes, sock hops and Sadie Hawkins dances, and Drive in movies.
 

I am from Rock n Roll,

I am from Elvis music,

I am from Crying in the Chapel, and Love Me Tender.
 

I am from an age that is said, more Americans bought homes, had a chicken in every pot, and a car in every garage than ever before.

I am from an era ushering in the space age, and Disneyland, “The Happiest Place on Earth.”

I am from an era of optimism for the future.

"MY PERFECT MAN," by Kacie Cooper

 

If this poem by Kacie doesn’t bring you a smile, I’m not sure what will! Enjoy.

Bonnie

 

The perfect man I've chosen is really the perfect man indeed.
I've been looking all my life for him. My heart, my soul he feeds.

He is so interesting, debonair; the way he walks.
People call him an animal. But I love the way he talks.

He speaks with an Australian accent and he's a different color than me.
That's okay, who knows? I just might come from the same ancestry.

I saw him on the "tele" just a few years back.
He's very photogenic. Oh my gosh! He's wack! (good)

He drives around in a nice car and has a job-to die for!
If ever I was his honey, he'd have someone to buy for.

At least he's not a Mr. Hyde or a mean old Dr. Jeckyl.
No. My "Perfect Man" is wonderful. You see...he's the Geico gecko!

Living With No Place to Hide, by Kay Halsey

 

This insightful essay is full of observations about life. I think you will relate to Kay’s experiences.

            “Hide and Seek” or “Kick the Can” were favorite games of mine when a child.  My cover may have been small, but the excitement of seeing someone come to discover my cover was real fun.  I felt like I was winning over my opponents.  We even got rewards for discovery - points, or change of role, or a chance to hide again and be “it.”

            However, as I grew up my experiences became more complicated.  Fear, anger, pride, or distrust take over.  Sometimes I felt I couldn’t cope any more.  I felt boxed in and nervous that survival was to hide my real thoughts and feelings, to deny human reactions which caused hurt.  I felt obligated to present a happy and positive presence which hide the real truth.  Life wasn’t all “roses.”  Sometimes “bad” things happen that you have to acknowledge and there is no hiding place.

            Denial is no answer to the real truth.  Your inner spirit can direct the mind off the problems to let your body release its tensions caused by conflict of situations.  Meditation and focus on the inner spirit have good outcomes.  The cause of the inner emotions requires inner work.  You can’t accept that someone else is making you feel this way.  Life’s game is played in direct relation to what you bring to it.  When you let go, you are free to react in a positive way – joyful, happy, positive.  Each day is a gift.

            What a gift and joy to look forward to planning an exciting and open experience.  Where will you go and what will you find when there is no more hiding and waiting for good things to happen.  You are “it” and anxious to find all the things that are happening in your world when you have no place to hide.

Where I’m From, By Barbara Sparks

Here is the second in our series of “Where I’m From” poems. This one, from Barbara, reveals some insights into her past and piques some questions. One of the fun things about these poems is that they don’t give all the answers, but they are full of intriguing images. I hope you enjoy this one as much as I do.   

I’m from Sunday School, Bible Study, Spirited Preaching and Gospel Music.

I’m from Country Breakfasts, Church Picnics and Special Sunday Dinners.
I’m from meals that say “I love you,” and “Welcome to our home.”
I’m from solitude, laughter, colorful language and wonderful noise.
I’m from generations of storytellers weaving family tales from the past.
I’m from writers of journals, making sure that our stories will last.
I’m from fishing trips to the Colorado River, Ensenada, and the dangerous break water in San Pedro.
I’m from starfish, abalone shells, crayfish and other creatures of the sea, lake or other forms water,
Detached just for me.

I’m from boringly long baseball games, wrestling and boxing matches at the Olympics,

The Globe Trotters, and a hunting trip that caused me to refuse to eat rabbit.

I’m from rodeos, circuses, zoos, and the Pike in Long Beach.

I’m from elaborate Christmas Displays on neighborhood streets, in Santa Monica, and stores in Downtown L. A. 
I’m from wonderful visits with a grandmother
Who drove like a maniac, but managed to get us safely to
See Red Skelton and Rose Parade Floats at the park.
I’m from Red Car rides to Grand Central Market and the delicious Fig Newtons that we would devour on the trip back home.
I’m from “Don’t embarrass yourself, your family or your race,”
“A hard head makes a soft behind,” and “Nothing beats a failure but a try.”
I’m from a loving family that taught by example how to live life.
I’m from a mother who always said, “What did you do to contribute to the problem?” “Tomorrow is always a new beginning.” “Don’t let anyone take your joy away from this day.”
I’m from the strength of a family that survived many hardships but knew that love, laughter, family and prayer was the mortar that holds people together.