Lauren Scott (c)
My son with Copper
from years ago. ❤️
Lauren Scott (c)
Lauren Scott (c)
My son with Copper
from years ago. ❤️
I’ve never seen him act this way
So listless rivalled to fun-filled days
Head hangs low with each new step
Where is his happy, bouncy pep?
Pacing round and round the room
Sunshine doesn’t fade the gloom
Seeking comfort with a whine
His distress infects my mind
He tucks his body in real tight
Leaning on my feet, he might
Those amber eyes touch my soul
Emotions begin to lose control
I’ll care for him until the day
He romps around, eager to play
His floppy ears will tell me so
My love for him will overflow
Our Copper Boy has been sick all week and
it’s been heart-wrenching to see him not feeling well.
This is a first for him in his almost eleven years.
Lauren Scott (c) 2021
their eyes zero in
on the white candy dish,
elegantly painted in pink
and pale green flowers.
Grandma gives them
her approving nod,
so their young hands
lift the lid where inside
they find magic –
gumdrops in red,
orange, yellow, green,
purple, white, and pink.
With each bite and
new flavor bursting,
they give her big smiles.
The candy dish
is only one way
(Mom passed away in 2012, but this is one lovely memory of her and our children. My sisters and I can’t seem to find a photo of that candy dish, but I found the one above on the web – a close likeness.)
~ Lauren Scott 💗💗
Another dog, that’s what I needed back then when our
Black lab, Lucky Girl, on that gray November day
Crossed over the Rainbow Bridge. Then Mom,
Doris to those who knew her well, gracefully entered her
Eternal home a few months later. I honestly
Felt empty inside – all enthusiasm drained,
Grasping for unreachable acceptance through the tears.
Handling the loss of our sweet furry family member
Involved revisiting those memories of the love she gave
Joyfully to her four adopted humans.
Keeping emotions intact, yet missing Mom – her voice,
Laughter, funny off-key singing, and mouth-watering cooking
Made greeting each sunrise challenging.
Naturally with active emotions, our family felt
Overwhelmed. Dad was devastated, losing his Gal of sixty-seven
Precious years that began in days of World War II. Mom was the
Queen. Another memory was her unequivocal love for dogs.
Riley was one of many canines she and Dad loved over the years.
So, amid these painful losses came Copper, our lab. The
Time was right, and I felt Mom’s otherworldly approval because
Underneath Copper’s quirkiness lies his loyalty, cuddliness, and
Vigilance in holding the guard dog role. He’ll be at our feet
When we call him, shake a paw when he sees our hand.
Xenial describes our friendly lab when anyone visits. Even at the not so
Youthful age of ten, Copper carries an abundance of
Zest for bounding through life, for loving his humans – reminding us that love carries on.
Lauren Scott ❤️ ❤️ ❤️
Wrapping up my workday with fifteen minutes to go before stepping outside into Friday freedom, I hear my phone ping. A short text from my daughter: Hey, Mom, would you want to chat later?
It’s been a couple of weeks since we talked, and since she lives on the other side of the country, of course, I wanted to chat! My fingers tapped back: Sure! I’ll call in a half hour when I’m home.
For hours to fly by when we talk on the phone isn’t unusual at all. But this call turned out to beat that record by a landslide. When my husband walked through the door, home from work, I said, “Hi Honey, I’ve been talking to Steph for two hours.”
“Are you kidding me?” He asked, grinning, not understanding what in the world could keep a conversation going for so long.
And it kept going. We chatted about work – the fun and the annoying elements, and about friends. I asked her about the 3-year-old tabby cat, Oliver, she and her husband recently adopted. Somehow the weather swept into our conversation – another drought and fire season on the horizon for us, and lastly, about her brother who is moving out in a week, embarking on a new chapter of life. He’s been home with us for a couple of years post college graduation, working full-time remotely. But the time has come. The time is right.
Steph and I gabbed about Michael’s new chapter nudging “Dad and I” into our new Empty Nesters stage. Exciting times for all of us, but bittersweet where many different emotions whirl around in our heads and hearts. The thing is he’s moving across country, too, which means both of our children will be on the same coast as each other, but miles and miles and miles away from us. This is when our hearts become heavy. We can’t see Steph and Ryan on a whim, and the same will be for Michael when he’s moved.
I filled Steph in about Michael wanting to help us rearrange furniture in the bedrooms so that Mom and Dad can reap the benefits of having the house to themselves. Shortly after he signed his apartment lease, with each day came a new flood of tears for me. But as he moves furniture and rewires electronics, he has tamped down those tears by keeping my brain and emotions occupied. Though a tsunami will gush on the day he drives away. No doubt.
Steph understood. When she and Ryan moved, Michael lived with us. Tears still trickled down our cheeks, but it was different with having one of our kids still at home. So, when Michael leaves, it’ll just be Matt, me, and Copper, our crazy canine, who will watch the distance widen between us and his car. We know Copper will sense the emptiness in the house, missing the cuddles, too, from his brother.
After Matt watered the grass, he poured us some Pinot Noir and Chardonnay and I carried the conversation out to the patio. He joined in, telling Steph all about his recent motorcycle trip, and how he checked off that box on his bucket list. He shared that his dad, two weeks shy of turning 98, is not doing well. “Give him a call,” he tells her. “And send him a birthday card with photos of Ollie. He’d love that.”
Before we knew it, tears from all of us struggled for freedom. The conversation stayed light-hearted, full of laughter, but also brimmed with love and poignancy. When we all finally said talk to ya later, four hours had passed!
Here’s my take-away: we love our children so much, yes, and sometimes to the point that it hurts. Parenting doesn’t get easier as age transforms into a larger number – with each new phase develops new sets of worries. But as our daughter and son pave their own paths, we couldn’t be prouder. They’re adulting and doing it well. We just wish their paths were on the west coast. Such is life. And as the gray hairs flourish and the wrinkles form, knowing they love us to the same extent is something so much bigger to be thankful for – and knowledge to sustain us until we or they hop on a plane, heading across country.
A phone call to treasure.
Lauren Scott ❤️
5:30 am. A song from the old, but reliable Sony radio wakes my husband and I up on work-day mornings. Four years ago, getting up before the sun would’ve been unthinkable, insane. Too dark outside, too quiet. Just too early. Four years later, our minds and bodies have initiated this routine we’re still acquainting ourselves with.
When that song enters into our sleepy minds, whether it’s rock, pop, or country, a new morning has arrived and so has coffee time. One of us heads for the pantry, grabs a filter and the bag of Peet’s for the good old Mr. Coffee pot. It may not be fancy, but it does the job well and has never disappointed. The delicious sound of coffee percolating is music to our ears, and when that music ends, we stroll into the kitchen to doctor up our mugs. Holding those hot cups of coffee, we take a seat in the living room – a quiet place for us to chat, read, or to simply sit together in silence.
During those years of raising our children, time was of the essence. There were never enough minutes in the work and school days to begin with leisure coffee drinking and casual chatting. It was more of a race, eyeballing the clock on the wall every two seconds, getting ourselves and the children ready for the day. Busy was the new normal. Busy was our middle name.
Yesterday, my husband drove out of the driveway on his motorcycle, setting out for a 5-day trip with several buddies. But as I sit on my sofa, lights turned on, with mug of coffee in hand, I think of him. How this early morning feels different. Peet’s remains our go-to coffee, but the taste seems duller, the effect inadequate. The silence in the house, instead of serene, feels empty like something is missing. As I turn the pages of my book, the thrill of finding out what the next page reveals has fizzled.
I realize that our early mornings aren’t just about a good cup of coffee, they’re about us. So I sip the brew anyway, and in a few days, I look forward to hearing the motor of his bike as he pulls into our driveway.
“The simple things are also the extraordinary things, and only the wise can see them.”
“Love is spending time together.”
Lauren Scott (c) ❤️
It’s a postage-stamp dwelling
with a few chips and dents,
but within the walls lie
giggles and imaginations.
Love enfolds itself
into every crevice…
a wealth much greater.
Lauren Scott (c)
Candy hearts that say Be Mine
Red roses bestowing forever
Fancy dinners for two in love
A special night to remember
But what about the lonely –
The broken hearts and souls?
What about the hopeless
Where life has taken its toll?
On this day where hearts abound
Give love where you find sorrow
Let compassion be your guide
to fashion a better tomorrow
Lauren Scott © (revised & reposted)
Photo from Google
Wherever you may be emotionally on this Valentine’s Day,
know you are loved and virtual hugs are sent your way.
Those bedroom eyes…
It’s in the gaze
before the leaning
a little heavy breathing
mesmerizing to the core
sweet, slow motion
an electric pull
body heat rising
in warm embrace
when lips unite!
Lauren Scott (c)
An oldie for some February fun 🥰
HAVE A GREAT DAY!
The colors mesmerize
They dance across your face
Flames conduct a jazz recital
My heartbeat meets their pace
Your eyes gaze at me
With a hunger that feeds
You touch with your thoughts
Fulfilling all needs
Wrap me in your warmth
With soul, body, and mind
Touch my lips so gently
To taste the sweet, sweet wine
Lauren Scott (c) An old poem revised 💓