Valerie's Voice

My dad was a carpenter and built our house in a “brand new neighborhood” in Northeast Minneapolis in 1953, the year I was born. Everyone in the neighborhood was new to the area and many lifelong friendships were formed. My mother and Diane’s mother (my recycle birthday card friend) was one of them.  I wrote this poem when Darlene died in 2013. My mom died in 2009.

Two Friends

Back in the Fifties

When life was pretty good

In Northeast Minneapolis

Up sprang a new neighborhood.

 

Children gathered daily

Going outside to play

Fathers off to work

Moms at home to stay.

 

Friendships were forming

Because everyone was new

Some lasting fifty years or more

Wow – who knew???

 

Two special families

Lived across the street

Two special women

Destined to meet.

 

Raising up  their children

Having driveway coffee breaks

Always checking on each other

Vacationing to many lakes.

 

Their daughters grew up

Becoming lasting friends

Sharing McKinley Street stories

No more playing pretend.

 

Marriages, then grand-kids

Time kept marching on

But playing Bridge and having lunch

Kept their friendship strong.

 

Four years ago God took the first

And now He’s taken the other

But memories will linger on

Loving memories of our mothers.

September 2013

Sunday’s sermon was about saints in the Bible that have gone before us, then we had an opportunity to light a candle for the saints and loved ones that have gone before us in our own lives. Pastor Abe reminded us that the saints were not perfect people and that the Bible is full of stories of imperfect people being used by God. He reminded us that God is faithful, he doesn’t give up, and he is in the business of redemption.

I lite a candle for both my parents and a very special aunt. Here is a poem I wrote about my mother shortly after she died in 2009. My father died in 1974 when I was 20 years old. I am saddened for the missed opportunity of getting to know him as an adult. I have not written a poem for my dad…maybe someday I will. He was a kind man.

Ruby Red 

Red was her color

Ruby was her name

Never much recognition

Never much fame.

But she was a faithful mother,

A grandmother, a friend

Loved and cared by many

Generous to the end.

She surrounded herself with beauty

Both natural and man made

She had a green thumb for growing,

An eye for things that stayed.

From the house on McKinley

To the apartment at Meadowbrook

She kept her place beautiful

It was always fun to look.

Her fun sense of adventure

Took her on many fine trips

And hours of playing bridge

Kept her mind sharp and crisp.

Being with family and friends

Made her most content

She found joy in remembering

Those times were well spent.

So here’s to Ruby

Whose color was red

God blessed her life to 86

An active life she led.

March 2009