Irish Pride Held High

Funny the things you understand
As a child.
I knew I wasn't suppose to like orange
But didn't understand until I learned
The history of the Irish Catholics and
German Protestant.
I never notice Grandpa's brogue
Come and go
An affectation of the Old Country.
I thought he stepped right off the boat
And brought dreams of Ireland with him.
Sitting in his lap
As he sang "I'll Take You Home Again Kathleen"
I thought he really meant it.
I only knew
To him I was special
And so was Ireland.
So they both have a special place in my heart.

Mom

I miss you on days when

I see mothers and daughters

Sharing shopping or conversations

Over lunches of hot fudge sundaes.

I miss you on days when

It's cold and I put on your sweater

Or pull out a piece of your jewelry.

I miss you on days when

I crave chocolate

While watching Jeopardy or Millionaire.

I miss you on days when

I sit with my feet tucked under me

And read a good mystery

Or look out the window

And enjoy the cardinal's song.

I miss you on days when

I look in the mirror

And see my face aging into yours.

In other words

I always miss you.

Celebrating mom's birthday with Kristi Yamaguchi at the Red Balloon!

Japan

Adam with his usual candor blurted out

I think they deserved it.

In his young mind they were the enemy

And this was retribution.

What a sad idea

How terrible that people really feel that way.

HIV is God's punishment

Disasters are comeuppance

God is on our side

And to hell with the rest of the world.

Some days

There's so much more than math to teach.

December Dreams
By Grade 3/4

The plump and satisfied bear
After his buffet of
Fat juicy fish
Snoozes, sleeps and snores
As he dreams
Of his honey dessert.

Parent's Friends

Seeing people
Who knew you,
I want to ask
What were you like
As a friend or acquaintance?
What topics of conversation
Did you share?
Do they see you in me?
But instead
I turn away
Not wanting to open the memories.
Not willing to ask the questions
That will connect the dots.
No easy answer
To your absence.
Only anger that they're still here
While I have only
Stories of the past.

Fat Tuesday

Every day is Fat Tuesday
In a kid's life.
Scrambling after
All the candy
They can consume.
Yelling and screaming
Till their lungs burst
Or their neighbors ears.
Jumping and skipping
Feet hardly touching the floor.
Flying down the corridors
Past the classrooms
Beyond the learning
Out of reach of adults
Mardi Gras
In the lunch room.