This Morning We Celebrate

More like the idea that has all broken down dreams and houseplants won’t bloom because they no longer grow; them, those orchids or philodendrons or pansies or flowers or violets because none would grow in grandma’s apartment. She had no love except for Alice who sat day after day screaming “Ma! Ma! Ma!” And we really had absolutely no love for her and Alice because they were mooching off our mother, and My mom let them! Then there was Aunt Ruthie who tried to tell mom, and I was only seven years old and Dougie was almost five years old and Doug was the kid little–making fun of them because Alice screamed at us “shut your mouth,” grandma would wring her hands with slobber dripping down the sides and her mouth. I kept hating grandma’s breath and Alice had her laxative every afternoon and theirs was stink. So my mom let them move in with her and we wanted dad and I wanted to go back to California any way I could. Finally mom made them move back to their home and we moved to our place the red house and I joined the Y and things got better and even when I got pneumonia and mom went on ADC and she was home every day and even when I got mad at her and wanted to move back to California I was a lot better then the kid out back of our lot stole my dad’s slides l was angry, but still, yes still better and my school grades got a whole lot better because l quit the Y and I joined Boy Scouts, because that kid Mike’s dad, made a pass at mom. I knew what that meant so we moved next door and each time we moved the place grew worse, for until you met This Girl who wanted to fool around and still my self-grew better and grades got better and finally I got into Grinnell and the food was good not good but really great and things got so much better except my grades went to hell and then I was finally in with dad in California and with Marilyn who knew God and that is what I wanted to do Love God–finally live with dad because I had found him and I was  really happy with myself and Marilyn, but where was mom and Doug but I kept taking drugs about LSD and my friends back at Grinnell, so I took off for Europe after hauling garbage all summer with George, Tim Dennis without Jack and Kerry and Tomas was not there, but Tomas and I got high, and again I ran away from home and then got really sick after doing LSD after graduation from Grinnell and finally MOM listened and I found Krishna Murdy and Allen Watts so I left for Graduate School and things finally did get better and I met Marjorie finally things were good each morning the USA and South Dakota and Doug and Dad not there though mom was gone; then I July 22, 1987, got sober I found God and we had a baby girl Laurel Ann Taylor and we raised her the best we knew how things started to get normal because I had 31 years sobriety and no one could stop me because I was finally good to Marge and I am healthy. Thanks be to God I am healthy and I am not putting God on Marge or myself on our Beautiful daughter she is finding her own way with the Ph.D. and at 29 there might be what she needs and she is all gone to her doctorate and Auntie Ruthie is finished and mom is finished but it’s never finished because of love! And, I love my family and friends and Marge’s family and Aunt Deny’s family I love them all and dad and Doug and especially Marjorie, my Pearl; we are old and now especially love is never finished because these folks are you and you have a family, finally you have a family.

 

 

Published by elgwyn

I was a University and community college instructor before retiring. I also worked in fast food restaurants, and retail stores. I am an ordinary man writing for because I want to write and because my education prepared me to write; BA English lit, MA English, EdS higher education, and MFA creative writing, free verse poetry and essays. Blogs are an answer to high-priced self-publishing. Walt Whitman had to self-publish his first 1000 copies of the 1855 edition of Leaves of Grass because in 1855 poetry did not sell. Most poets make a living in other ways than writing. Wallace Stevens was an insurance executive, and TS Eliot was a banker. Many writers teach, and always there have been writers who have written because they needed to express their thoughts and feelings. They wrote not necessarily to make money but to express "the old universal truths of the human heart" according to Faulkner. Here I reach a wider audience I missed than by self-publishing, and I stand a better chance to reach a wider audience for less expense than self-publishing. I self-published my first books, Winter from Spring, and Meditations on Gratitude; poetry and photo books which were easier to self-publish than to seek a not to seek a publisher company. This blog allows me to write for an interested audience because I write poetry and personal essays. I write for a friendly audience and present to you a slice of my writing. Perhaps you will enjoy what you read.

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