Tag: Mother

August days go by

August days go by
light on a lamp
in my study

water for begonias
and chrysanthemums

more days of summer
and gentle changes
in the light

photos of sunflowers
the field on the way home
from my mother’s home
years and years ago
gave me strength

I will love thee, O LORD, my strength.

Psalm 18: 1

Photo by Bojan Popovic on Pexels.com

Through the Light

through the Light
of Christmas
I found my way
home

from a hospital
and nursing home
through city and
small town
Main Streets

their streetlamps
with holiday lights

as my mother
was on her way
Home

the time we shared

and still share

I wrote this poem on December 3, 2013, and added a note:

A peaceful grey day here, with steady rain.  The evergreens are so beautiful.  We are also still seeing geese flying in formation.  Spring, Summer, Fall – all so glorious.  Yet I think I love this time most of all.  Yesterday I went to Target and the brown fields had a covering of frost.  I guess whatever time it may be is the best time.   The wonder of seasons, wherever we are.

Photo by Karl – 2014

Ellen Grace Olinger

they can return

they can return
in new and different ways
some of the things
thought lost

my mother and I were
closer in her old age
though we always loved
language and books

a past illness led to me
simply sitting with her
for hours as that was
something I could do

conversations
the trust that grows
through decades
of unconditional love

now sometimes
these many years
since her passing
I remember what she said
and the advice still applies

Ellen Grace Olinger

Needlepoint and Easter Lily

Karl took these photos in 2013. I made the needlepoint picture a long time ago, and then had it framed professionally.  The kit was high quality, and the picture is from a painting by Paul Cezanne. We still enjoy the picture in our home.

I began again with needlepoint after I was blogging here for a time. To remember how, I looked at an unfinished piece by my grandmother, Grace, who died a year before I was born. My mother gave me a few of her mother’s handmade aprons. I think my art is from Grace, and my love of language is from my mother. All gifts from God.

Ellen Grace Olinger

Winter Morning

The sky is completely grey, and lovely in a quiet way. Snow covers the yard, various branches, and safety railings along the wood and brick paths. I read a few pages, and keep looking outside. So will try and write a page – a post – about what I see.

There are large shapes of ice in Lake Michigan. What a contrast from warm summer days. I keep small blankets – some handmade from thrift stores – nearby.

as if they could
store the sun
small blankets
on a chair
add color to
the scene
as they await
to warm
another time

July 2014

Time – today is another year since my mother’s passing in 2004. At peace.

T  ried-and-true
nspiration and
M  emories to cherish
E  ternally

For a thousand years in thy sight
are but as yesterday
when it is past,
and as a watch in the night.
Psalm 90: 4 (KJV)

Ellen Grace Olinger