Fall cornfields by Kim Wendel

If there is a heaven...

If there is a heaven,
It is in my grandma's hands,
her blue veins pushing against transparent skin,
wrapping over knotty knuckles,
running like tree branches over calloused palms.
To me, my grandma's hands are the life and the afterlife--
all the struggles, hard work, and joys--
eternity embodied in a woman's touch.

Grandma's hands pulled the weeds,
planted the flowers,
made the home where nine children grew up safely,
knowing they were loved
in hand-sewn clothes
and socks repaired with the swish of the darning needle.

My grandma's hands played ball and Checkers and Monopoly,
Made clothespin dolls, colored pictures,
Crocheted blankets for new babies,
and built sandcastles where grandchildren could play out their dreams.

My grandma's hands caressed a sick child's back,
Soothing her to sleep
and changed endless diapers, no matter how messy.
then washed them and hung them out to dry.

In my grandma's hands was unconditional love,
devotion,
hard work
and all its rewards.

And even though Grandma is gone...
She lives.

Her blood courses through my veins
and my father's and my cousins'
and all my aunts' and uncles',
and now through my own children's veins.

And all the lessons she taught us
Are with us still.
We see her when we pat the new baby's back
And swaddle him tight before laying him down to sleep.

Shhh...Hush little baby.
Grandma is here.

by Kimberley Fulton Wendel

Ups & downs

Today started at 3 a.m. with a crying, congested baby who had spit up in his bed, a 6:55 a.m. knock on the door from the guys here to install the new $4,000 furnace and a cat who decided to throw up his breakfast all over the dining room floor. Then I got to school, and was greeted by a student who brought me a flower, a long-stemmed, pink and white striped alstromeria, a little bit wilted and broken, but a precious gesture, nonetheless. I found time to have heartfelt conversations with several colleagues in the hallway, and ran into a friend at Starbucks and found a half an hour to sit and have a cup of coffee. Another day filled with life's ups and downs...another reminder of how blessed I am to be alive and breathing and to share the ups and downs doing the things I love with people I love.

Photo by Kim Wendel

2008

"It is our inward journey that leads us through time--forward or back, seldom in a straight line, most often spiraling."

~ Eudora Welty, One Writer's Beginnings

Our inward journey

"It is our inward journey that leads us through time--forward or back, seldom in a straight line, most often spiraling."

~ Eudora Welty, One Writer's Beginnings

 Photo by Kim Wendel, 2012

Snowy school - Skokie School, Winnetka, IL February 2013
Photo by Kim Wendel

Sunset ride

Sunset ride - Lake Michigan, South Haven, Michigan 2008
Photo by Kim Wendel

Sleeping baby

Sleeping baby by the shores of Lake Michigan, Michigan City, Indiana 2012
Photo by Kim Wendel

What is really there

Rainbow set ~ Harris Lake, Winchester, Wisconsin Summer 2011

   

     "Things don't look the same through the camera," I said. "Not the way they are in real life.

     Putting the camera strap around his neck, he paused, then straightened.

     "Sometimes." He tilted his head to one said and spoke to himself in the mirror. 

"And sometimes pictures show us what is really there."

~ Patricia McLachlan, Journey

Wild Lupine near Lake Superior, northern Wisconsin

The rain slides down the cold window. It's March 4, 2011--a gray day. I can hear the first birds of spring as I sit in bed feeling the growing baby tossing and turning inside of me. It is truly something to feel life inside. I am eighteen weeks pregnant with our third child, a little boy.

The other night as I lay in bed with my hand against my abdomen, I was certain I felt his tiny fingers uncurl, and it reminded me of how small his little hands and fingers will be when he arrives; how tiny his feet will be, small enough to fit in the palm of my hand.

For the first time since the start of this pregnancy, it felt real--that we are really going to have another baby despite the many losses, the many struggles before now.

I could almost feel his soft head against my chest, his little round rump in my hand as he sleeps against my shoulder. I could almost smell him, his milky baby breath mingled with baby wash. I could feel the warmth. And it made me feel excited, scared, happy, peaceful, hopeful.