Only Yesterdays

Oh the times we could have had

I’ve lived them all

Mostly by myself.

Sometimes a little too often

Or so I’ve been told.

Yet, they give me comfort.

Simply moving on is never an option

At least for a mother

And more so in times, a father too.

Most times

In my imaginings

You are grown

And it is Christmas time

Our favorite time of year

And the fire is blazing

The tea is poured

Our Christmas tree is lit

And warming our hands by the hearth

We sit in silence

Smiling

Remembering all the days that came before.

Sometimes a chuckle breaks the silence,

“Remember when …”

And a story begins

No doubt, events embellished by the years,

All the while sipping our tea.

Eating our biscuits.

Warming our hands.

And living in moments,

Never lived.

© 2010, Tim (P) Prendeville

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Christmas with Gene Autry and years gone by

Christmas is my favorite time of year … always has been.  When I was a kid, putting up the decorations in our home was my favorite time of year; and every year Gene Autry was on the record player … morning, noon, and night.  There came a time when I moved on from all those things, and didn’t listen to Gene Autry, didn’t decorate trees, and let Christmas come and go in stride.  I hoped the few times back home, over the years, that I could recapture some of the Christmas spirit that was there in my youth, but … it, and everyone, just like me, had moved on.  Not to say that those trips weren’t enjoyable; just not ideal.  There was still the little pin holes in the ceilings from years of hanging streamers, and looking at those always gave me a smile.  It wasn’t until Tara was born in 2002 that Gene Autry made a come back, and when Alyssa arrived in 2004, he was still going strong … indeed, he still is today … I’m on the return leg of my trip through life now, the nostalgia portion … what was in, that went out, is back in again … and long may it live … “Merry Christmas folks … where ever you may be” …

Worth a Christmas Spin …

http://www.youtube.com/view_play_list?p=1D9CBDBEC0D5F983

 

Irishocity

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© 2010, Tim (P) Prendeville

Whitewash

I can remember growing up with many things,
Most of which,
Like any other kid,
Lost in the selfishness of youth,
Assumed would remain,
Constant.
I was wrong.
But …
I was but …
A child.
.
I remember having idols,
And doing the things that idols expect,
And not doing what I would now.
Or would I?
Heroes are sometimes always heroes,
But not to everyone.
.
Climb,
Climb,
Climb,
I watched you climb!
You let me watch you,
Climb.
Can you still see me,
Way down here?
Can you see me?
Did you ever?
.
Where are you now?
Do you know?
Can you see,
Where you are?
Where you were?
Where you went?
How you got there,
And stayed,
For so long?
.
Do you ever look back,
And see what it was you left behind,
Way back then,
When life made sense?
Did you even know?
Do you know now?
.
Who do you turn to when
It
Happens?
Who do you call when
It
Happens?
Which shoulder gives comfort when
It
Happens?
Do you have a shoulder,
On which you can lean,
With eyes closed?
How fairs your means test of life?

.

© 2010, Tim (P) Prendeville

One More Step

The girls are back to school today … Time keeps ticking …

I remember driving in cold Irish mornings, and you strapped beside me in your seat, with only few words yet spoken.  I remember dropping you off to smiles and hugs, to people who’ve long since forgotten your name … as have we they.  I remember cuddles, and kisses, and tears, and laughter … some from the past, some from the present … and some that only live in memories; it is those, in moments alone, that sometimes give most solace.  I remember living moments in moments not yet lived, and thinking … “these will be the good ones” … but also wary that life is not all fairy tales.  If I could stop time … I would not … If I could change yesterday, or any day that came before,  … I would not ….  Each day has brought me to you … each day has brought you to you … and me to me.  And tomorrow?  I hope tomorrow, brings … tomorrow.

My little girl is not so little anymore.  She walks, and talks, and thinks like … a little girl.  Sometimes she comes to me and speaks of dolls.  Sometimes she comes and speaks to me of life … sometimes I have to stop and think … and realise … she will always be … my little girl.

© 2010, Tim (P) Prendeville

The Clock

I wrote these couple of lines this morning.  They came to me from a post my brother in law (Martin) put on his facebook … (below) … They are expecting their first child to arrive in the next week or so … Good luck 🙂

Martin:  “Thanks guys. The holiday was perfectly timed. A week before our house gets that tiny little bit smaller. It’s just what we needed. Now it’s just a countdown. In fact the house is so quiet now all I can hear is the Clock on the wall ticking away.”

Ah, yes! The clock! Remember when it ticked time for just the two of us?  And it was perfect; our own little chronometer.  How could we not have known the boredom?  The solitude?  And then along came 3, and time changed … It no longer passed, or if it did, it did so without us.  Our little clock became a mantel piece.  And then, one day, I heard it ticking again … and the house was empty … and quiet … And we were alone again.   Where did the time go?  Tick … Tock … Tick … Tock …

© 2010, Tim (P) Prendeville

Hindsights and Perceptions

Rain.
Days and days of rain.
Was it ever any other way?
All of those days,
Perpetual darkness and gloom.
Did the sun not ever shine?
It must have.
It must have.
Didn’t it?
I just don’t remember.
I just don’t.
Why is that I wonder?
All those years.
Even when I look back now,
It’s rain I remember
And nothing much else.
But I’m sure there must have been more.
Wasn’t there?

© 2010, Tim (P) Prendeville

My Wife’s Family

A piece I wrote a year or so ago and was reminded of over the Christmas break, after a get together with my wife’s in-laws … it really should be taken with the proverbial grain of salt … for the most part they’re a good bunch of people and a lot of fun to be around … but as with all families, there are always times where harmony is hard to find …

Well I just got back from a trip down south
Where I met with some in-laws I can never figure out
Some of them are fine and some of them are not
And the rest are fine with alcohol
And lots and lots of pot

(chorus)
Family
My wife’s family
My wife’s family
My wife’s crazy family

After 6 hours in a car driving though Los Angeles
Where the traffic can be murder and the smog a yellow haze
The kids all in the back crying “are we nearly there”
And the wife wrapped up in god knows what
Life is so unfair

(chorus)
Family
My wife’s family
My wife’s family
My wife’s crazy family

Well I know I signed up for the long term marriage with my wife
And I know the preacher warned me that sometimes there would be strife
But If I knew back then the grief I’d have to put up with today
I’d run a thousand miles from here
Far far away

(chorus)
From family
Her crazy family
My wife’s family
Her crazy family

There’s an aunt that vacations there and she scares me so
My wife tries to tell me that she’s all a show
But I’ve seen her throw a look my way every now and then
That tells me that she hates me and I’m going straight to hell

(chorus)
Family
My wife’s family
My wife’s family
My wife’s crazy family

There’s a cupboard in the kitchen that I run to now and then
It’s stacked and packed with alcohol which makes the trip real swell
I’m not alone at night time when the shots are flowing fast
I guess I’m not only in-law needing booze to outlast

(chorus)
Family
My wife’s family
My wife’s family
My wife’s crazy family

Well I know I signed up for the long term marriage with my wife
And I know the preacher warned me that sometimes there would be strife
But If I knew back then the grief I’d have to put up with today
I’d run a thousand miles from here
Far far away

(chorus)
From family
My wife’s family
My wife’s family
My wife’s crazy family

I guess I’m stuck with all the in-laws that intrude from time to time
It’s no wonder that I drink and smoke and bitch and moan and whine
But from what I see and hear from all the other people that I know
It seems that in-laws are the same no matter where you go

(chorus)
Family
My wife’s crazy family
My wife’s family
My wife’s crazy family

Well I know I signed up for the long term marriage with my wife
And I know the preacher warned me that sometimes there would be strife
But If I knew back then the grief I’d have to put up with today
I’d run a thousand miles from here
Far far away

(chorus)
From family
My wife’s crazy family
My wife’s family
My wife’s crazy family

© 2010, Tim (P) Prendeville