It breaks my heart,
all these changes
that leave memories
only in my mind.
I am lost,
looking for the people and places
that now exist only
in the memories.
I know there will be
but my heart grieves
for all that is gone
and the losses will always leave
a thin white scar.
How do I surrender to change?
How do I let go of fear,
to see the possibility
that may come?
Like spring leaves
Like greening grass
Like downy bunnies
Like returning songbirds
My broken heart,
surrounded by the thin mesh fibers
of hope and joy,
holding it together,
how can I trust it?
How can I not?
The days are getting longer.
Still, the darkness lingers.
In the distance, a glimmer of brightness.
Still, the darkness hovers.
The hope we once held close seems far away, as,
still, the darkness hides it.
So we wait, and prepare, and believe in the day
when a shining new morning will finally
still the darkness.
Spring thaw, still ice on the roof,
but the full gutters are singing.
The snow piles are shrinking,
undermined by rivers of melt.
Nature is shaking herself free
and stretching after the long hibernation.
As am I. Still wearing fleece and down,
but I can raise my thawing soul to the sun.
There is still some ice in my bones,
but my full heart is singing.
Life is hard enough
without a big stomping foot
so just let it be
When I was a child, Bart Starr was one of my heroes. I wasn’t particularly obsessed by football, but it was one way that I could relate and be close to my father. Every Sunday afternoon during “the season” we would watch the Green Bay Packers play. When they were doing well, they were the best in the world. When they were not so good, my Dad would call it the Green Bay Polka, one, two, three, kick, one two three kick!
But, no matter the outcomes, Bart Starr was always my favorite. And his quarterback sneak in the Ice Bowl of 1967 win is still the stuff of legend.
I always wanted to be Bart Starr! I asked for and got a football one year for my birthday and I would play in the front yard, sometimes with friends and neighbors, but mostly, by myself, pretending I was part of the great team. Oh, to be the Green and Gold number 15!!
Over the years Bart and Cherry Starr have been in and out of the public eye and my own sphere of vision. But, from the Rawhide Boys Ranch to his visits to Lambeau Field, Bart Starr has always been a class act.
I cried seeing him in 2015, old and weak, but still determined and brave as he took a last trip around Lambeau field in a golf cart with Brett Favre. No matter what, Green and Gold Number 15 will always remind me of what life is supposed to be. Do your best. Help others. Stay humble.
Now that’s what I call a real hero.
As darkness falls on another January day,
I fade with the dimming of my eyes.
I seek rest, desire comfort,
but the darkness only numbs.
One bright thing, that’s all I require.
Just one joyful thought, but even that is elusive.
I can’t hide from the deepening shadows.
I can only look for a single spark to light my meager candle.