Adoption Day poem...

This is really my family--at least one part of my mom's side; I'm the 11th kid from the right in the second row-- my mom is 6th from the right in the 2nd row from the top. You can click on the picture to enlarge it...my grandmother and great-grandmother are there, too...

Family

Laughter, first.

but also

disagreement and compromise;

breakfast, lunch, and sharing.

Being together , being apart.

Soccer games and baseball

and drama, always drama.

Inside jokes and secret smiles.

Chores and jobs and the peripatetic car.

Washing windows, mowing lawns,

riding bikes and jumping rope;

and laundry, oh, the laundry!

Late-night movies, Saturday cartoons.

Hot chocolate on a winter’s day,

and popsicles in the summer.

Being part of something bigger

than yourself alone.

Teasing and scolding;

flower gardens and backyard swings.

Toys and hand-me-downs,

roller skates

and notes from the teacher.

Forgotten homework, remembered birthdays,

Grandma, Grandpa,

aunts, uncles, cousins.

Holidays and holy days,

Mothers’ Day and Fathers’ Day --

and

for all the rest of the year,

hearts around a kitchen table.

Family.

Back to Work

I can tell that fall is here, because, once again, requests are coming in for the services of the poet laureate. Yesterday, I visited Hammond Middle School; I have a poem pending for Adoption Day (if the requester ever contacts me again...I failed to write down her name and number, and instead, asked her to email me with the details. Still waiting.) In addition, I have a reading scheduled for another group next Tuesday, and had a request this morning that I was obliged to turn down, due to a prior family commitment that week.

Little did I know, when I first applied for the position, that it would be so popular. I had envisioned beating the proverbial bushes for venues and for groups before whom I'd preach the poetry gospel. I was mistaken. After almost three years of simply responding to requests, it's clear that Alexandria has a desire for poetry, at least for its schools, its children, and its observance of special events. Add to that the individual interest exhibited by senior center groups and social contacts that I've made, and it's clear that Councilman Ludwig Gaines knew what he was talking about when he championed the establishment of the office.

Over the past few years, I've had a chance to observe what people seem to want of me. Accessible poetry is one thing: something they can understand and relate to. (There may be a bit of bias on my part here.) Secondly, involvement in the community. That involvement can mean appearance in our classrooms, or participation in local events, like the Alex Awards or the Birthday Celebration, or the dedication of buildings, or the celebration of our own citizens' accomplishments, whether they be elementary school students or City Councilmen. Oddly enough, though it was emphatically not listed as part of the duties of the office, what I've enjoyed most is the challenge of writing "occasional" poetry--i.e. poetry to commemorate occasions in the life of the city. Both the research involved and the immersion in the subject have been a surprising pleasure for me.

There are, of course, some aspects of the job that I will happily leave behind. No pleasure is unadulterated. But, for the most part, I have been enriched by the position and feel myself fortunate to have been in the right place at the right time to participate in this effort.

Windows

We are just back from San Diego--where the sun seems to shine non-stop, the scenery is beautiful, and there is room--and time--to think and dream and play and laugh. This trip, all those things devoutly-to-be-wished were accentuated by the presence of our daughters and granddaughter, as well as assorted friends. It made me think that, perhaps, in our 'normal' life, we are far too encumbered by things.

At the house in SD, we have only the bare-bones essentials. There is no need to worry about what placemats to use when you only have two. Or waste a lot of time over meal-planning when your cookware is likewise limited. Knowing that our time there is finite, we can even manage to keep the pantry and refrigerator simple. Can we use it up in five days? If not, it won't make the leap into my shopping cart. Even our wardrobes are simplified--as is our packing. Jeans and shirts, a pair of sandals, a 'dress' outfit for the rare occasion that requires it...these are all in the permanent SD closet. Thus, packing pretty much consists of books for the trip and the odd piece of clothing we might need to suit the weather.

Of course, the relaxing nature of these trips is also due to the fact that many of the items on our 'to-do' lists are not do-able long-distance. And we have not encumbered ourselves yet with volunteer work, church affiliations, serious social obligations, or other necessary evils that gobble up our days, weeks and months here at home.

Don't get me wrong. I love my life here in Virginia. But the ease of California has much to recommend it as well. These trips remind me that there are many things I can do without, and many things I still enjoy outside the realm of my day-to-day peregrinations. These trips are a sort of window on my life: a place to stand outside, looking back in and figuring out what is truly necessary, and how much is merely habit and inertia.