We were rich.
Billionaires.
With his feet
he drove across the country,
semi loaded for delivery.
With her hands
she sewed dresses
baked bread
roasted caramel popcorn.
We were rich.
With his hands
he built a house –
cinder block and wood paneling,
rooms for all.
With her hands
she warmed our clothes on the wood-burning stove.
I went to school smelling of wood.
And love.
We were rich.
With his hands
he harvested grain
and raised animals…
anything to feed us.
With her brain,
she made little
feel like much.
Indeed, she fed a multitude
with less than five loaves and two fish.
We were rich.
With his courage,
he removed us from all we had known
and moved us to all
we could not know.
With her heart
she cradled our fear
while she must have known her own.
We were rich.
We did not know excess, or that excess even existed.
We didn’t know new clothes; we shared and passed down.
We did not know truffles or caviar or wine,
but we knew full bellies.
We knew love.
And boundaries.
And affection.
We knew we held the universe in their hearts.
We knew they lived for us.
We were rich.
We did it because… Because that’s what you did… And to know that any of you 4 girls look back with any good memories of those hard times is simply incredible! But I too look back and marvel at how rich we were: in love, in comfort, in family, and in community (Arlinda, your family was a BIG part of that!). Yes, my darling, we were rich beyond measure!! And still are!! I love you too!
You still do – hold the universe in my heart.
I have tears…. what a beautiful poem to read on Easter Sunday xo
This is beautiful, bestest. Your parents laid a great foundation for the home you now keep; rich with love and passion and knowledge. Such an amazing family!
BEAUTIFUL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHAT WEALTH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Of LIFE–and POETRY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!