Writing Wings For You

Marie Lukasik Wallace ~ # I LIVE Poetry – I'm passionate about life and writing and all things creative and poetic!


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Digging for Gold in the Soul – #1

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My daddy has been a vaulted man for most of my life.  I never understood why.  I only knew that as a child and an adult I yearned for him to talk to me…tell me things about him.  The child in me longed for the stories and the adventures.   But the human in me wanted a deeper relationship, to talk and go do things together.  There’s something about a little girl and her daddy, or at least what I interpreted from watching my friends with their dads.

It’s been 3 years since I’ve began my quest to get to know daddy.  I can’t tell you what prompted me to begin this journey, but I think it was intuition, or maybe it was that I sat still long enough to listen.  I began with curiosity and a book.  The book had questions in it.  As I perused the book, I realized that I didn’t know a lot of basic things about my dad.  Sure there were the obvious things I didn’t know like our family tree and how he met my mom or why she left.  But really I didn’t even know simple things like his favorite color or favorite food or even family traditions.

I told dad about the book and showed it to him.  He looked at it curiously.  “What do you think dad?” I asked hopefully, and he answered, “sure, I could probably do that.”   Inside, I was elated, and I wanted to grab him and hug him, but I knew I didn’t want to scare him.  He was like a frightened  deer talking about anything more than the weather and fishing and/or tractors. 

The first year was peppered with just a few questions here and there, about every few days or sometimes just once a week.  At first, I could only ask daddy really simple questions like family tree information or things he liked or didn’t like.  That was safe enough.

However, if I asked a question that was too deep, he feigned an “I don’t know” or a “I have to go and fix dinner now”  or “I’ll get back to that” (which he never did.)  I could hear in his voice that I had hit a nerve and the pain was too raw to look at.  Those were days he had looked at once and tucked away for good.

But there was something that kept him coming back.  Was it that every one of us wants to leave a legacy of some sort?  Is it that everyone wants to leave some small part of themselves in this world to know they had not lived their life in vein?  

Also, at first, daddy would only answer the questions that were in the book.  If I was there in person, he would peek over to make sure the question was in the book.  He still didn’t trust me, and that was okay.  Fortunately for me, I knew that I shouldn’t go off track, or he might not talk anymore.  Actually, most of the time I worried if one day he would just stop answering questions.  And I realized that worry didn’t serve me.  I was learning more about dad than I ever had.  It was these little gold nuggets that I kept digging up.  Like gold, you cherish each little bit you find, even the flecks.

Fast forward three years, to last night.  I chatted just a short chat with my daddy before he went to bed.  I helped him calm his fears because nighttime is evil to him.  (He has Sundowners.)  And I told him, “I love you daddy and sleep well.”   His words back to me were simple, but went straight to the heart.

                           “Thanks for being nice to me.”

Wow.  Six little words that startled me into reality.  Isn’t that what we ALL want?  …someone to be nice to us, especially in a world that is sometimes cruel.  We just want to know someone cares.  And sometimes it’s in the simple things…talking on the phone and ask them about themselves.  Daddy responded, as I think I would, grateful that someone was nice to me.  It’s always been a journey for me to find the gold in every soul I meet, even those I might not care for or understand…it’s there.  Now it’s my mission to find it and cherish it all people.  There are so many treasures I have yet to meet.

                                   Got a shovel?  It’s time to dig!

*Disclaimer:  I am not saying this will work for every person.  But I do know this, that most of the time when you take the time to listen and ask questions, that people respond.  Sometimes you have to sift through the response to see what is there, and look deep for what this person is offering you, no matter how small.    

Have a most blessed day my fellow friends,

~Nemaste,  Marie


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A Gluestick and a Wall – a Family Story

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“Grammy, can I put this on your wall?” Aryana inquired holding up her recently painted water color.   “”Yes, you can.”  She confidently walked over to the kitchen drawer, carefully opening it up and whips out…

a GLUE STICK…a glue stick?   “She’s going to put that picture on the wall with a glue stick?” an observer quietly, disapprovingly objected.  There was a crowd of onlookers with a horrified look on their faces.  They couldn’t believe how this was unfolding.  

To Aryana this simple act of putting her proud artwork on the wall with a glue stick was an ordinary, every day act.  She had gone to the  drawer with no worry of getting in trouble.  You see, she’s at Grammy’s house, and at Grammy’s house sometimes we do things a little different.  It was okay to do this because there was a day we really HAD to get our artwork displayed and there was no tape.  We made do with a glue stick when the importance of that moment  getting her artwork proudly displayed on the wall was more important than what could happen to the wall.  The still horrified audience didn’t have all this history.  Their worry was on “What about the wall?”  And my worry was making sure my little granddaughter knew I was proud of her, and that I MUST get that work on the Gallery wall.. 

Aryana and I had an understanding.  It was all okay, and I smiled as she filled my home space and heart with her love…and her JOY.

**Writing this story reminded me of of other things we’ve done with this wall…It’s becoming a family history wall.  More stories to come. 


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I LIVE POETRY – Do You See what I see? – Beauty All around

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I was just waking the Boise Green Belt, when a mom and her babies crossed in front. So sad that my zoom doesn’t  zoom as much…Mommy was very calm and didn’t panic. Bikers and walkers stopped in awe.  My day was blessed. Hmmmm have a story building in my brain… sweetness with mama and babies.

This is living poetry…seeing beauty all around.


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Funny Story – My 77 Year Old Dad got his first “Twitter” Account

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My dad is a Doctor Dolittle. He certainly has a way with animals. He interacts with them like people, mostly because he is a man who lives out in the country, and animals are the closest things to talk to. He has regular people conversations with animals; and like Dr. Dolittle, it is not limited to cats or dogs. Currently, he has 2 cats and 3 dogs and a frog that comes and sits.

One day when I visited dad, he surprised me by telling me the conversation he was having with a bird outside. Rarely does my dad get excited about things. Most of our conversations consist of the weather and typical daily chores. But on this day, my dad carried on about his interaction with the bird.

Dad continues, “Marie, the bird would make a sound ‘tweet, tweet’ and then I would echo back, ‘tweet, tweet.’ Then dad would start it, giving a new pattern, ‘tweet, tweet, tweet,’ and the bird would reply back, ‘tweet, tweet, tweet.’   The bird copied the pattern!

My dad carried on about their conversation, and his eyes lit up, and he was very animated, excited about this forged relationship with yet another animal. My favorite part however, was that my dad said, “Hey, now I’ve tweeted!”   My mouth dropped open in utter surprise. I didn’t even know he KNEW what tweeting was!

This interaction with my daddy got me curious about the origins of Twitter and just had to look it up. And though Wikipedia isn’t a formal, technical way of finding things out, it most certainly has a line or two that suggests how it came about.

Dorsey has explained the origin of the “Twitter” title:

…we came across the word ‘twitter’, and it was just perfect. The definition was ‘a short burst of inconsequential information,’ and ‘chirps from birds’. And that’s exactly what the product was.[

It was quite an interesting article. You can read more about it HERE.

Later that day, I heard the “twitter” of the birds and just smiled a sweet smile just thinking that maybe a man like my dad could have been an originator of the first tweets.

Another glorious day with my daddy.  :0)

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images from free Google images

 


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Happy Thursday – ROMANTIC DIALOGUE

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I was challenged to try on some dialogue with a love topic.  My own love story gave me the emotional impetus to write and weave the story.  It was fun!  I challenge you to try it.

It was Happy Thursday, my favorite day of the week.  I jolted to the door in anticipation.  There was a sign on the door, “Enter my queen.”  What surprise awaited me today?  It was Joe’s turn to do the date surprise, a ritual we had been doing for months, the first man to surprise me in return.  The invitation got me nervous with wonder and excitement. I opened the door carefully, almost like a peek, as if opening the door full on would be so overwhelming that I would blow out of my skin. Nothing in the living room as I entered.  Nothing in the kitchen on the counter.  But looking down, there was a pathway which trailed into the master bedroom.  There, on the bed, was the most beautiful full length, ornate, Shakesperian era dress.  The note beside it instructed me to put it on and await his arrivalI get to be a QUEEN!, I thought.  It was every girl’s dream.  As a child, dress up was one of my favorite things to do.  Note to self:  Points to you Joe for hitting that dream spot on.

I slowly drew the dress on so as to savor every moment and not to tarnish this exquisite garment in any way.  I awaited expectantly for my love’s arrival.

A sound of a truck door shutting.  My King had arrived.  When the front door opened, my ears perked to listen for clues to tonight’s events.  Some rustling, and then soon, a shout toward me, “Good evening my Queen.”  (that was me!)  “You may come into the parlor,” he said.  I tried to move with as much grace as I could find…a dress like this called for beauty and style.

I entered “the parlor” and there was my King, elaborately dressed in a rich costume to match perfectly with mine, complete with nice brown tights.  Another note to self:  My man was wearing tights.  And oh, was he handsome as ever.  Look, his eyes are twinkling!

“Are you ready?”  he inquired.

“I think so,” I said with a pause and a small twitch of the jitters and eagerness at the same time.

“You’ll have to wear this blindfold.”  He directed me.

What is he up to?  I wondered.

Before I put on the blindfold, I looked up and saw Joe’s sister, Karren dressed in a chauffeur’s outfit.

“Hello! “ I said to Karren, and she smiled and waved back, “Hello.”   She opened the back seat car door and helped me get all of me in the car without damaging the beautiful merchandise.  Joe sat up front with Karren.  The two of them chatted back and forth, and I just listened, my senses heightened because of the blindfold.  Secretly I was trying to figure out where we were going by tracing the turns like a map in my mind and listening for more clues.  I also paid attention to smells and bumps that might give me clues.  Train sounds, railroad ties, kids playing, slowing down, a double BUMP!  I KNEW where we were!

On our first surprise, I had taken Joe to my friend Rosemary’s house, a beautiful place that overlooked the Kathryn Albertson’s Park, complete with a creek that ran through the yard and a bridge that led to a stunning tea house.  He was going to recreate our date!  I held my excitement inside so as not to divulge that I at least knew part of the secret…I felt like a kid inside!

My car door opened. “We have arrived my Queen. May I take your hand and assist you out?” Joe asked.  I answered, “You most certainly may.”   Then, turning to Karren, “Thank you kind chauffeur for the ride.”  “You are welcome,” Karren replied.

Joe walked me to the courtyard of my friend’s house and removed the blindfold.  It was set up beautifully with the lights on and the rushing of the stream and the sounds of the bugs and birds. Perfect was all I could think of.

“Remember this?”  the King asked.

“Yes, very well. Thank you.” I sheepishly replied.

“Tonight we are recreating the magic of our first surprise,” Joe said.

“I was hoping so,” still containing some of my delight.

Joe walked me across the bridge, and we began recreating our magical night, from the story of The Table Where the Rich People Sit, to listening to Yanni, to eating a nice dinner that he had prepared.  We laughed together and cried sweet cries of joy together and we relished every moment.

It was time to go, but I didn’t want to go.  I wanted to linger here.

Joe took my hand again and began walking me across the bridge. Halfway he suddenly dropped to one knee.

“What?” I thought.  “What is happening?  He’s on one knee!  Is this really happening?  Shouldn’t I have had a clue?  No, because we dress up like this all the time.  It’s what we do.  It’s the marvel and fun in our relationship.  Was I ready for this?  Is HE ready for this?  Wasn’t it just a few weeks ago that he was saying that he wasn’t quite ready for next steps?   What is going on? – All these thoughts flashed through my mind in an instant, trying to make sense of this new moment, so very different from the previous moments and definitely different than other moments we experienced.

Joe started, “This place is one of my fondest memories that is why I recreated it. In walking back across this bridge, I want us to enter a new phase of our lives.”  He began fumbling and reaching IN HIS TIGHTS!  He struggled and scrambled, searching for something. Alas, he found the prize, a ring box!

“A ring box? This is definitely something different.  Again, am I ready for this?

 Is he ready for this?”

Joe continued.  “Marie, will you marry me?  I will honor you and cherish you and it would make me very happy to have you by my side.”   Pause.  Long pause.  I was sorting through my thoughts for the correct response, when my heart leaped and answered for me, “YES!!!! I will marry you.”

Joe grabbed me and swung me in circles.  We were both filled with so much joy. We couldn’t contain it all.  Sparks emanated from every fiber of our being.  Our world was on fire.  Nothing could stop the magic that was happening now.  Absolutely nothing.

We walked inside to chat with Rosemary and to thank her once again for allowing us to use her sacred place.  She was grinning ear to ear.  Her response to our joyous faces, “Never did I think you would find someone who would match your quirkiness so well.  Joe is perfect for you in every way.”

“I know!,” I exploded.

And then I turned to Caris, Joe’s daughter, who was also in the room.  She was happy too and hugged us and congratulated us.

How could I possibly hold on to all of this memory?  I want it to last a lifetime.  I stood there in that spot consciously visualizing each and every detail and holding it dear to my heart.  This day would go for eternity.  I just know it.

YOUR TURN:  FEEL FREE TO TRY ON SOME ROMANTIC DIALOGUE OF YOUR OWN AND POST IT HERE!


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Frogs I have Kissed = A Very Short Story of My Love Life

Frog #1 – looked like a handsome prince.  But no, total frog…hopped in more than one garden and sat on more than one lily pad.

Frog #2 – nope, not really a frog, more like a toad actually, warts and all…and they’re the kind of warts that keep on giving.   Also hopped on more than one lily pad…forgot he was watching them little tadpoles.

Frog #3 – like a frog in boiling water, hoppin’ mad ALL THE TIME!

Frog #4 – Now we’re moving a little closer to a prince, saw a beautiful Frogilina in me…caught me flies, bought me a nice lily or 2 for my pad…but it was time for him to find a new pond and have his own little tadpoles.

Frog #5 – shiny green, a happy little ribbitt, made sweet music along with the crickets and the little tadpoles…liked MY pond, caught me flies…made the pond we had a better place…nope, not really a frog…totally a prince…and when the moon hit just right…ahhhh.

Now the tadpoles are grown,  a glowing slimy green themselves and happily hopping in their own pond.  Though our pond is a little quieter, it is still a sublime place to be.