This poem I wrote for my friend Joyce. We lived catty-corner from each other for many, many years, having our babies, planning birthday parties, Halloween costumes, swimming, 4th of July...you know. She is an Italian New Yorker with the strong accent and attitude and I love her dearly.
Baby Boomers,
Neighbors, Forever Friends
The Joyce and Coleene
Story.
Perpendicular streets
Intersecting our
lives
We met in our
twenties,
Both new mothers and
wives.
You had this
noticeable sound;
From New York City,
Borough of Queens.
A talkative Italian;
In your kitchen, the
coffee steams.
Your Amanda and my
Timmy,
Buddies and playmates
they would become.
Innocent, precious
firstborns,
They kept us busy and
then some.
You became my
confidant,
Not just a neighbor
but good friend.
And soon we'd have
more babies,
Brothers and a sister
God would send.
It was so wonderful
back then,
Birthday parties and
elementary school.
Trick or treat and
Christmas cookies,
Hangin' out at the
Figgins' pool.
When sad times came
to us,
We would share our
deepest fears.
And laughter...there
was a lot of,
And also many tears.
Tim's illness and his
difficulties,
Corey's shyness and
mistakes.
Jessica's crying,
Amanda's surgeries,
And Keith, well..for goodness sakes...
You Joyce, went on, finished
your education
and got yourself plugged in.
Helping special kids
like my Corey,
Learn to read, spell
and swim.
Our kids have all
grown up
And challenged us for
sure.
We have persevered
with God's help
And a friendship has
endured.
Almost thirty years
have gone by
And our lives have
surely changed.
You have moved up to
the "Hills,"
Me? finally "teaching," things
rearranged.
Amanda is now married
And a teacher
herself, too.
Jessica, Keith and
Corey,
In college, a career
to pursue.
But for Timmy, now in
Heaven,
Along with our
parents, we've let go.
But connected to our
hearts forever
Life has blessed me,
for you I know
Coleene VanTilburg
March, 2008
Although the "meter" may be a little off on this next one, I wrote this for myself and my cousins Jeff and Greg; a tribute to their mom, my Aunt Margie. I am so thankful that God gave us a great chance to reconnect in such an intimate way and she blessed me so much. Her voice matching my mother's, hearing her words was almost like having my Mom again with me after Timmy's left for Heaven. She always made me laugh with her stories, quite dramatic still into her elder years. I miss her and cherish what God gave me in the years between my mom's passing and Aunt Margie.
 |
| My cousin Jeff and my cousin Greg with families. |
My Aunt Margie
My
Mother's older sister,
Aunt
Margie is her name.
A
twin sister named Marian;
Together,
the laughter was insane.
 |
| Margie and my Mom, Joyce (1950's). |
Not
too often, I did see them
For
both lived far away.
But
Margie was just up North,
Sometimes
she would come for a stay.
Bright
red hair was always shining,
And
animal print stretch pants she wore.
A
love for dogs and especially her cherished bird;
Never
caged much; like her free spirit she bore.
A
keen wit and sarcastic aire,
Genetically
passed along to cope
With
tough times and situations like all of us,
But
always seeing some hope.
For
me, this last year was very special.
We'd
talk on the phone quite a lot.
It
was like having the voice of my mother again,
Straightforward,
but in love, never forgot.
We
would speak of her days she knew were numbered,
And
my poetry did bless her with thought.
One
day I prayed on the phone with her,
I
am so thankful for what the Lord has taught.
So
now Aunt Margie, you are eternally young again.
Your
beauty returned, God be the Glory.
The
Greer sisters reunited, Marian, Margie and Joyce,
Our
hearts now hold their story.
Love
and Thanks, your niece, Joyce's daughter,
Coleene
VanTilburg
P.S. I will truly miss our long talks, her honest
words when my voice would crack with sorrow talking about my own recent loss of
my son Timmy, "...You're not going
to cry now are you...?" Something
about the way she said it made me pull it together...
and fruitcake.
At 84, she still loved to "flirt"...
She
was proud of her grandchildren but wished she had understood her own mother
more.
We'd
always ended our own phone conversations with "I love you" and she'd
say "I love you too, honey. I'll talk with you again soon".
And finally, the week before Spring break, the kids at school had State testing. It's long, it's boring but it is what it is...as they say, part of my job. So, with notebook at hand, this poem came to mind.
Testing, A “State” of
Mind
It’s testing this
week,
Four days of
gloom.
Hovering and
watching
These students in
a room.
The packets are
opened,
Bubble in your
school name.
Let’s see what you
remember
“Let’s score
higher, not the same.”
No I pods, no cell
phone
Or backpacks
nearby.
A sorrowful
separation,
For some…”Could
just die!”
Sharpened #2’s
Is all they
require.
And teachers now
daydream
“How long ‘til I
retire?”
Reading
comprehension
Inference and
understanding;
Math and its
numbers,
Calculations withstanding.
Life science and
history,
Discovery and
change,
What’s new, what’s
old;
A lot of ideas to
exchange.
Can the kids that
we teach
Learn and grow
from their mistakes?
Will computers soon replace us…?
Will computers soon replace us…?
“Can I get a
bathroom break?”
When this week
finally ends
And the tests are
packed away,
We’ll all get a
break;
Spring fever, time
to play!
 |
| Enjoying Spring 2011 |
Coleene VanTilburg
RSP Aide, Ayala
High School
(I will add pictures this week...wanted to get this posted before midnight).
Comments are encouraged and welcomed and needed
(Am I sounding desperate?)
