About the last entry

Bad poem, I know. It was a line that kept going through my head, wouldn't leave me alone until I did something with it. This was the place to put it since I can't share such information outright publicly. I finally told my oldest how I feel. I thought she would react with anger, but she didn't. Her hubby had it figured it, talked to her about it before I ever said anything. I figured he would because he watched his parents go through. . . . I'm not prepared to tell my other three as of yet, nor Garry, not until I can find a job that can actually support me. I have sneaky suspicion Garry will make me leave the house, and ask "Who He is?" There is no other, unless He is work, manuscripts, grandchildren, the child still at home, and caring for Garry. I don't want to be in this house right now. I imagine the day I only come by to check on Garry, make sure things are being done, and to visit, nothing more. Talking about this will make it easier, I hope, to tell the others, especially Garry.

When a Love Song Doesn't

A beginning of poem, possibly?
Yes?
When a love song doesn't
make you tingle,
When a love song doesn't
bring the image,
any image,
an image that once stood vivid
in the eye,
Has the heart turned cold?

A love song you say?
A great poem to cry to?
Yes?
When a love song doesn't
make your stomach flutter,
When a love song doesn't
sound like joyous chorus in the ear,
Has the turned to ice?

A love song isn't love without love?
Are the words only a scrambled alphabet?
Is there any meaning to the scrambling?
Yes?
When a love son cannot
sound like hope,
When a love song cannot
promise a fluttering heart,
When a love song cannot
feel the air with the aroma of romance,
Has the heart lost all soul?

I have finished reading Troy's Creative Community. I remember the days with children young, active, and too busy for me to be busy except with them. Today I finished posting grades for students. Today I enjoyed searching for publishers and agents. Today my thoughts were my own. Today, I didn't know what to do with myself. Life is change, and I am now learning how to slow down. As children grow up to become their own, I have less to do. I have grandchildren that come, but they soon go home. If I don't want to go anywhere, usually I don't have to go. Life is looking different as I figure out what I will do, what I am doing, and looking for the job to carry ME through. Yes, I said me, not we, not us; however, there is still the responsibility, but the job I look for isn't to satisfy the we, only the I. I is now more in the foreground than the background. Life has changed, and more change is to come. Strange, thinking I instead of We.