Tag Archives: smile

Thank you

I cannot remember when I received a smile as big and warm and excited as the smile I received this evening. While the smile did not come from granddaughter Lucy, it came because of her.

I ordered dinner from Door Dash last night. Multiple issues with that, I know. Not the least of which is it represents a new retreat in the current self-care effort. I acknowledge the problems and hope to address at least some of them. Starting today.

For last night, I did what I did.

Ukash, the Dasher arrived. As we interacted, I realized that Ukash lives with an issue with his hearing. We were able to communicate nonetheless.

As our interaction came to a close, Lucy flashed into my mind and heart. In addition to English words, Lucy is earning signs. Mom. Dad. Water. More. All done. Banana. Up. You’re welcome. And thank you. She may know more. Those are the ones I have picked up while with her.

I decided to give it a try. “Thank you,” I signed to Ukash

His face lit up with joy. I thought his smile would break his face as he signed, “You’re welcome.”

I smiled back. We shook hands. Ukash entered his car for his next delivery. I headed to my apartment to eat food I did not need.

The experience has stayed with me.

Courtesy of Lucy and her parents, I experienced a holy moment of beauty and love. I have been smiling ever since. I hope Ukash has been smiling too.

Leave a comment

Filed under Family, Food

Purple flowers, guest collection #39

IMG_2468 (800x600)

Photo by Lily, age 4
10 May 2017
White Plains, New York

My friend Jeff was hanging out with his friend Lily in front of her house this morning, before school. Lily was really proud of her purple flowers. Jeff told Lily that I never miss an opportunity to take a picture of purple flower because I believe they make God smile. Lily said she wanted to send a picture of her flowers. And she did.

And I smiled.

And I am pretty sure God did too.

Leave a comment

Filed under Friends, Photo

Smiles remembered after all these years

I know this day well; I never forget it; it invariably sneaks up on me and grabs me unaware; and when I pause for a moment to reflect, I remember why things feel so raw. After all these years. And then I smile.

People have been posting on Facebook about remembering this day because of the Challenger disaster. I remember that. 

But I remember this day for an event that took place twelve years before the Challenger. An event that also claimed the lives of educators.

Forty years ago this day,  on January 28, 1974, William Koenig climbed into a small plane with another educator from Grove City. They planned a trip to Harrisburg, the state capitol, where they were to advocate for funds for the Grove City Public School system. At the time of his death, Bill worked as the assistant superintendent for the Grove City Public School system. But he was a musician. He played string bass in the pit orchestra for the high school musicals. He directed the town band. He was a tennis player. He was a photographer. He was also a private pilot. Though they had tickets on a commercial airline, the two colleagues decided Bill would fly. The plane went down near Emlenton, Pennsylvania, the crash site only located the next day. When I arrived at JFK a day later, after a college choir trip to Europe, family members met me and broke the news and shattered my heart.

Because grief lasts, I raise a glass to remember loses and acknowledge pains. And because love never ends, I raise a glass to give thanks and to celebrate love shared past, present, and future.  On this anniversary, I raise a glass to William Koenig, to his life, to the time, the far too short time, we shared. To all I learned. To laughter and tears. To music made well and badly. To a multitude of remembered smiles.

Goodnight and joy be with you, Dad.

Goodnight and joy be with us all.

See you along the Trail.

2 Comments

Filed under Family, Music

79th Street smile

Headphones surrounding her ears
like metal rubber earmuffs,
she leaned her head against the car wall,
eyes securely shut.
Seeking sleep?
Pursuing escape from the noise of the 1 train?
Concentrating?

The train jerked to a stop at 79th;
her eyes fluttered and opened.

For an instant, our eyes connected.
I smiled.
I always smile.

For an instant,
an even briefer instant,
a nano-instant?
a tiny smile danced across her face until,
as if she realized what she was doing,
the smile turned wry,
she squeezed her eyes tightly shut,
and sank further into her seat.

I looked away as the train pulled from the station.

3 February 2012
Shire on the Hudson

Leave a comment

Filed under Poem