I’ll let my Southern roots speak in this poem. I feel proud that I have my daughter’s lunch fixed before midnight; I am improving with practice. I had a full meaningful day as a chaplain being of service to others, visiting, praying, doing some administrative work, but mainly connecting to God and helping out of that center. I felt more energized and less drained throughout the day.
I picked up my daughter after a full day’s work, and we were able to connect and be playful. We had dinner with my house mates, my two Quaker aunties and one of their 27 years old son. I also helped my daughter connect to her mom, her mom’s boyfriend, and grandma via FaceTime; part of brain told me that I’m going well beyond what I need to since I only got to talk to my daughter once over FaceTime last year while she was away in Florida for over 8 days. I’m trying to not keep a tally in my head, and focus on what’s best for my daughter and actually be a decent human being on my end.
So needless to say, this post is much more than just about a poem on fixin’ lunch. It’s about the little victories in life, about enjoying each moment we have, and yes…it’s about my life and how God helps my little heart grow. My daughter is a great teacher, and yes, even divorce and learning to co-parent with the ex has been a great teacher too.
Poem: Fixin’ Lunch #2
nothin’ says i love you like peanut butter and jelly.
i’ll always be your daddy even when you’re smelly.
i’ll tell you stories and use my imagination,
to explore uncharted worlds and exploring all creation.
i’ll chase away the monsters,
and even throw away trash in the dumpsters.
i’ll kiss away your boo boos,
and make train noises go choo! choo!
I ain’t to proud to use a little treat,
to have you eat while in your seat.
not always sure if I know what I’m doin’,
at least our dinner wasn’t just puddin’.
you bring smiles to my heart little girl,
and so grateful we get to share love in this world.
if fixin’ your lunch is the last act i do,
I’ll be at peace with doin’ nothin’ mo’.
love is all the little actions,
filled with meaningful connections.
i spread my knife life loving as i spread the jelly,
and pray i’ll have time for a shower so i won’t be so smelly