You Take My Breath Away

Whenever I begin to think of you I smile,
This heart of mine just sails away there’s no denial,
You have captured everything
Oh, you take my breath away.

And when I hear you talk the clouds just roll away,
The beauty in your walk the sun comes out to play,
You have captured everything,
Yes, you take my breath away.

I have done some things that have made you cry,
Don’t you know I’d give anything?
Promise you my love if you let me try,
My very life to you I bring.

The stars are out tonight above the golden sea,
The moon is full we walk the sand it’s you and me,
You put your hand in mine,
Oh, you take my breath away.

Now slowly you just turn to me and start to sway,
We dance and hold each other ‘til the start of day,
As you have your hand in mine,
Oh, you take my breath away,
Yes, you take my breath away.

And as morning comes you fly away,
Into our world you now are carrying-
This very dawning of our brightest day,
You’ve put on our wedding ring.

The world is brighter now than it has ever been,
Can hardly wait to see your smiling face again,
You have captured everything,
Oh, you take my breath away.

At end of day you run to me with open arms,
I hold you close enveloped in your loving charms,
Then you put your hand in mine,
Oh, you take my breath away,
Yes, you take my breath away,
Yes, you take my breath away,
Yes, you take my breath away!

Peter Lowell Paulson
December 31, 2010

The Last Candy Cane

The Last Candy Cane

The last candy cane,

On our Christmas tree,

As holidays wane,

It holds every key.

Of reverie keen,

From every grandchild,

To the manger scene,

The Christ child so mild.

As Christmas songs play,

I take down the star,

The lights on the way,

Unwinding thus far.

And ornaments sure,

Each one skillfully,

Protected and pure,

This done willfully.

The tree now removed,

We sweep where it trains,

It’s check and reproved,

For keeping remains.

Yet one could allow,

An occupant free,

A candy cane now,

Is hanging with glee.

It says to us all,

To everyone here,

Christmas will call

"A joyous new year!"

Peter Lowell Paulson

December 30, 2010

Snow

Beautiful bountiful white,

Eternal, ethereal rest,

Internal emotional sight,

Snow covered earth at its best.

Peter Lowell Paulson

December 25, 2010

Grandma's Christmas

Grandma’s Christmas

The flickering fiery fairy lights upon the tree just glow,

The colors seem so vibrant on the sled with big red bow,

And every Christmas cookie with aroma fills the air,

You taught us well your spirit in our heart your presence there.

Each bough each branch on evergreen is blanketed in white,

A cardinal blasts the snow from one as up in air takes flight,

We know how much you loved these birds as they would come to feed.

And rifle through the millet for the blackened sunflower seed.

You’d watch your Christmas with a cup from windowed breakfast nook,

From many paneled panes of glass this where you sat to look,

Now years have gone you’ve passed the torch and giv'n unto us,

The joy of Christmas gatherings the loving and the fuss.

The short potbellied Santa statuette is standing near,

To keep a watchful eye on preparations this is clear,

To draw the big fine turkey from oven on the run,

And quickly make your gravy perfectly as you have done.

And now that all are seated contemplating all the while,

How you would stand beside the table with a broadened smile,

Elation felt as you would know to have your family,

To gather all the ones you can at Christmas happily.

Peter Lowell Paulson

December 24, 2010

Sierra Leone

Sierra Leone

All alone

By the sea

Hardly free

Hands upraised

People phased

Masses walk

Hardly talk

Baskets hold

Goods are sold

Those who give

Hardly live

Men have used

Women abused

Children run

Hardly fun

A place on earth

Tremendous dearth

Justice lean

Hardly seen

People fear

Shed no tear

Help around

Hardly found

In God’s belief

Constant relief

In life turmoil

Toward heaven toil.

Peter Lowell Paulson

December 7, 2010

This Time Eternally

Let no one put asunder,

What God in Heav’n ordained,

It’s rapt with every wonder,

And fore’er to be sustained,

Husband and wife together,

In bond of beauteous bliss,

A golden thread will tether,

Once sealed with marriage kiss.

A promise made forever,

For all the world to see,

It’s forged with love’s endeavor,

And with love is set free.

So hand in hand through the years,

Two souls will walk as one,

Share happiness; a few tears,

Until life’s journey’s done.

They say that “until death” will part,

Our mortal coil will cease,

But always in a lover’s heart

Love’s spirit will increase.

And then one day we’ll meet once more ,

Forever young we’ll be,

And now we'll be at Heaven’s door,

This time eternally.

Peter Lowell Paulson

November 24, 2010

The Desert Mountain

Your ancient, angled granite face just seems to peer right down,

At empty river gorge below; your red rock seems to frown,

How many people you’ve seen in all your years of time,

Who’ve looked upon your beauty and your attitude sublime?


There is one single group of grasses hanging from a ledge,

Which seem to all but dare you to just push them off the edge,

But gives you human quality the way your rocks are tiered,

Two eyes, a nose, a chin and now the grasses form a beard.


And as I view your visage with your look so unconcerned,

A thousand years and more and I imagine what you’ve learned,

That people come and people go and all must seem to be,

Just searching for a fragment of your fair tranquility.


And now I must be going, but before I leave this place,

I wished to let you know that I will miss your craggy face,

You’ve given calm solemnity amidst the stress and strife,

And brought a concrete quietness I’ll carry into life.


Peter Lowell Paulson

November 16, 2010

You're Beautiful

You're beautiful,
Moonlight in your hair,
Little black dress,
High heels,
I am drawn; captivated,
The thing I like most about high heels-
Is when you take them off,
and want to dance, barefooted,
With me,
And morning comes,
Sunlight in your hair,
You're beautiful!

Peter Lowell Paulson

November 14, 2010

Your Loving Arms

You wrapped your arms around each one and held them in a way,
That showed you really loved them, and would keep them every day,
I never really noticed until pictures of your life,
Were gathered all, a child, a student, mother and a wife.

In every single picture if another soul was near,
Your loving arm and hand surrounded them with touch so dear,
There is no better evidence of what we know is true,
These beautiful kept images, the essences of you.

The first a black and white image when you a child of eight,
Your father crouched beside you dressed in fin’ry of the date,
Your arm and hand are draped around his neck and you just seem,
As you and smiling father are relaxed and in a dream.

And one by one, with brothers, sons, your daughter or with Dad,
You hold each one around the waist and smile for you are glad-
That you are with the people in your life you truly love,
And you could not be happier if angels sang above.

Yet more and more with grandchildren your hands just wrap around,
And cuddle everyone with gentle love that knows no bound,
And as they grew you saw the photos each and every one,
Each child not held, enveloped in your arms and having fun.

And as time passed abilities would lessen with the age,
Your walking ceased, talking decreased, but you were now our sage,
Until your very final day you took our hand, it’s true,
And stoked with your fine fingers ours for this was love to you.

Peter Lowell Paulson

November 7, 2010

The Rain Pours on the Town

The rain pours on the town,

From heav’n ten thousands strings-

of water falling down,

A somber time it brings.

Grey ghost-like clouds surround,

A dark and dusky sky,

A howling wind abounds,

The colored leaves fly by.

As soon a soaring swift,

On white wing flying high,

Appears to make a rift,

And draws a sunbeam by.

And now a rainbow shows,

In hints of hazy hue,

As golden Helios glows,

Uncovers sky so blue.

The bleakest scenery,

When darkness all but shrouds,

The brightness we will see,

The light beyond the clouds.

Peter Lowell Paulson

November 5, 2010

My, Alstroemeria

My, Alstroemeria,

I want to marry ya,

The Tiger Lily said,

She blushed and turned her head.

The yellow mums conferred,

Told her, “we need a word”,

He is the best for you!

Both give a lovely view.

She smiled and said that she,

Just loves his orangey glee,

And with my talisman,

We’ll bond in morning sun.

A marriage all in fame,

And every flower came,

The sunflowers just towered,

The daisies never cowered-

They even asked the wild-

To come and in they filed,

The columbine in blue,

The bachelor button, too.

The wild, wild rose in red,

Some daffodils in stead,

Yes, every kind of flower,

Would be here in their hour.

The marriage of the year,

 Alstroemeria, dear,

And Tiger Lily now,

Have merged in floral vow.

Peter L. Paulson

November 3, 2010

Forever

Slowly, slowly pages turn,

In this life we now discern,

Importance of a life well spent,

With all God’s graces He has sent.

Mama, Mama, you are free,

Tonight away your soul will flee,

To loved ones waiting up above,

Who’ll greet you with a new found love.

Somber, somber is our heart,

For in our fabric you were part,

Of our true essence woven fine,

A tapestry of love divine.

Onward, onward we must go,

And share with everyone we know,

Your loving, gentle, kindly way,

Forever in our lives to stay.

Peter Lowell Paulson

November 2, 2010

Coffee

Coffee


Coffee, coffee brown and black,
All the courage that I lack,
Is bound within your liquid stuff,
And gives to me what is enough.

You make me feel as I’m alive,
And starts my engine’s morning drive,
To face the tasks I face today,
Or any trial that’s in my way.

So pour me dear another cup,
Another at my dinner sup,
And to my bed I dream of you,
Your substance in my cup I’ll view.

Guatemala coffee best,
Italy Espresso for my rest,
And Kenya Mission is divined,
To settle any troubled mind.

Perhaps someday I’ll switch to tea,
With all its attributes agree,
And brew the nuance out of it,
To formulate a new found wit.

Until I do I’ve found a bean,
That roasts and grinds in blends serene,
I challenge anyone to share,
A brew that gives a lift this rare.

Peter Lowell Paulson

November 1, 2010

Captured

Captured

Your naked foot appeared from underneath-
the comforter and tested the weather.
You point your toe as if it’s going to read -
the barometric pressure in the room.

The pressure in my chest begins to build,
And I already dressed to start the day,
Now looking in the kitchen for some food,
A day old biscuit and perhaps some jam.

And you announce to me that it’s too cold,
"It would be nice if you could start a fire",
Now motivated I find all the wood-
and kindling soon ignite the fire you wish.

A blazing fire is soon within the room,
And warmer now the bed cover is moved,
You’re lying there a smile is on your face,
Our baby in the other room asleep.

I come beside and lay with you in bed,
To nonchalantly talk about our day,
Now magic in the room I can’t explain,
The nightclothes on your frame just disappear.

Once more the spell of love has captured us,
And holds us bound together with desire.


Peter Lowell Paulson

November 1, 2010

Oh Baby, Oh Baby

Oh Baby, Baby

Oh Baby, baby on my knee,

The twinkle in your eye I see,

Make you laugh, and make you grin,

Funny faces now begin.

Where do little laughs come from?

The land of Biddle Bubble Gum,

Or Da-Da-Da-Da by the sea,

And also noisy Raspberry.

You laugh, I laugh; we laugh and then,

We “goo-goo”, “ma-ma”, laugh again,

And now the sleepy eyes are here,

The land of Cribby Cribby near.

You reach out as you slip away,

Your tiny head on pillow lay,

And dream of all the fun you had,

With Grandpa, Grandma, Mom and Dad.

Peter Lowell Paulson

October 28, 2010

I Am a Talker; So is My Daughter

I am a talker. So is my daughter. Don’t get me wrong, my two sons are wonderful conversationalists, but there is a difference. My daughter doesn’t do this anymore, but when (and she knows this story) she would come home from elementary school, and the family was sitting at dinner, she would start talking about her day at school starting with the moment she met the first person in her class and proceed to recount most every detail of her day. At some moment during our dinner one of the boys would say, “Summarize, summarize.”


There are social situations that any “talker” will be “forced” into silence. It is an interesting phenomenon, but it DOES happen. I believe it happens when other “talkers” are engaged with each other. One such social dynamic occurs when my daughter comes home by herself. This is the most wonderful thing when a child returns home. This is a person that was a baby, toddler, child, youth, and adult under your roof. There is no other person in which you will be more intimately involved with than this child which you have raised.

But, when my daughter returns, she and her mother immediately connect. I chalk it up to the “female encounter”. As a dentist, I have worked with women all my life. I love women. I grew up in a family with four brothers, so “girls”; “women” were always a wonderful mystery to ALL of us. But, there is a special dynamic here. Not unlike we men who gather to watch sporting events. Women feel engaged at times, but it is a guy thing.

So when my daughter comes into the house, she and my wife start doing the women thing. I am not a big fan of shopping, recipes, clothes, child rearing techniques, etc., so this talker is silenced. Usually seated in the living room listening for the moment that they will launch into subjects like baseball statistics, politics, religion, golfing, football, etc. Never happens. Women stuff. They are welcome to it, and I still LOVE every minute of it.

I recently got a chance to travel to St. Louis International Airport to pick up my daughter and our grandson and travel two and one-half hours home. The next day my daughter and I had to make the same round trip to attend a baptism of another wonderful grandson. My wife had to stay at home with my daughters son, because he had a fever. So it was daughter and I in the car for another five-hour trip.

Two talkers engaged. It was fabulous! There is nothing like two talkers together. There is never a lack of “dead air”, as they say on radio. Now I am the older of the two and have to take a nap after lunch, but the conversation rolls when we are compos mentis.

Seven and one-half hours. Where do you find that in a life-time with anyone? One-on-one. Now add to that equation, two people that like to talk. If you haven’t gotten a better handle on the other individual, where they are, what makes them tick, what makes them happy, what they are doing, where they are going or want to go, what is important in their lives, personally, etc., then it is not for lack of opportunity.

Those seven and one-half hours are like gold. I will treasure it forever. It is now wrapped. I can take it out unfold that adventure over and over. My daughter is a child of mine. She is a wonderful lady, my baby, too. Everyone loves their baby!

Wilow Tree

Willow Tree

Whisper, whisper, willow tree,

All your dreams of yesteryear,

And what you wish in life to be,

As vigil watches water near.

The lake is rough, October wind-

Blows warm, and winter soon will send,

As signs of summer now rescind,

Its freezing, frosty, fingered friend.

The arctic North wind hiding he,

Behind some mountain far away,

Propels his slow trip by degree,

And, brings his snow grip to your bay.

For soon you notice leaves are gone,

As naked by the water stand,

And see the frozen lake at dawn,

Your dreams and wishes now command.

You still see winter birds aloft,

It gives you hope for coming spring,

You now will love these snows so soft.

All beauty in its offering.

Peter Lowell Paulson

October 26, 2010

Oh, Mother

Oh, Mother

The moon is very full tonight it has a hazy hue,

With all the water in my eyes, yet no cloud is in view,

I want the rain to fall tonight as I walk from this place,

To blend with all the tears which fall so freely on my face.

Our mother lays and looks at me with love within her eyes,

She captures every moment, and with all her being she tries-

To tell me that she loves us all for this is why she lives,

As frail she is; without restraint her love to all she gives.

Oh mother, sweet, sweet mother “We are strong because of you!”

“We are here, we’ll never leave and we will see you through.”

I tell her that it is alright to leave and take her rest.

For she has lived a life of love and for this she is blessed.


"But one more thing that you must know", I look into her eyes,

"This is just a beginning; there are no final goodbyes"

"For we will be together with you; this is what I know"

"And hand in hand we'll walk together, and our love will grow"


She smiled a simple smile and with her all pervasive grace,

The tenderness of motherhood was clear upon her face,

It felt as Heaven opened doors to share in our release,

As many angels hovering here would come to give us peace.

Peter Lowell Paulson

October 23, 2010

The Dress

The Dress

I remember when we bought the dress,

“Little thing”; “exciting” comes to mind,

My only thoughts, this is what I confess,

As we walked in the shop a dress to find.

I don’t pretend to have the women’s wit,

When she peruses all fine things to wear,

But only know that if I must submit,

The choices that I opt are sexy fare.

The romance in her eyes is clear to see,

As begins the process ‘fore her now,

Perhaps an elegance like princess she,

Yet not beyond what her peers would allow.

And so begins the perfect time of all,

A man and woman in this prior dance,

Before they set a foot into the hall,

A perfect dress for evening’s great romance.

Like magic in the air she finds the one,

And puts it on; the contour; form is pure,

Delight and sparkle in her eyes like sun,

And walks transformed with feminine demure.

Peter Lowell Paulson

October 22, 2010

A Child in Fear

A Child in Fear


I looked into his eyes I saw such fear,

The fire within my heart a crimson fire,

He backed up to the wall no way to flee,

Submitting to my will he faced his doom.

And I enraged began to rant and rave,

To set him straight; correct the err he’d made,

But, seeing him defenseless sitting there,

Not knowing what his fate would be today.

My heart was flooded with such awful guilt,

That I could put a child into this state,

And make him fear his father in this way.

That day I changed the way that I would live,

And love this child for all that he would be,

This loving child a soul of God was he,

True consequences paved a change of heart.

A softened voice now spoke to child below,

And raised him up I knelt to hug him close,

A tenderness between a father; child,

With loving care to each I must bestow.



Peter Lowell Paulson

October 18, 2010

Our Cats

Bugs drive them crazy,

Most times they’re lazy,

Curl up and sleep on soft chairs in the sun.

Often times holler,

Fight and then squalor,

O’er toys; our attention, or tumble in fun.

Moses our big guy,

N’er lets a meal by,

If food's in the bowl, then like lightening he’ll run.

Albie is quite thin,

Fond of cooked chicken,

When Moses is finished then Albie has none.

They are a good pair,

Kings of this house lair,

In life as a species they’d say that, “We’ve Won!”

 

Peter Lowell Paulson

 

October 17, 2010

Sonnet II

Sonnet II

No one can know the love I have for you,

So deep within my heart and in my soul,

Impossible to keep within; subdue,

For you complete my life and make it whole.

Remembering the day I saw you first,

With golden hair and oh, that loving smile,

You took me in, a dying man of thirst,

And quenched all doubt which held me in denial.

The walks we took along the country road,

We sat in fields under a shady tree,

As this became a lover’s fair abode,

Entwined within a blissful rapture we.

One look is all it took for you to gain,

An everlasting love which will remain.

Peter Lowell Paulson

October 16, 2010

Heaven's Sweetest Song

Heaven’s Sweetest Song


I never saw my father weep or be despondent long,

Until my mother passed away and ceased her morning song,

My mother used to sing; you’d hear small nonsense songs each day,

They could annoy, or charm, but often chased one’s fears away.


My mother was a cheerful soul with sunshine on her face,

That brightened every person in whose presence that she’d grace,

And, even as a teenaged son who wished to sleep awhile,

You’d hear her lilt; complain or groan, yet it would make you smile.


And now my father prayed each day to God in Heaven above,

That she, his wife, our mother, was now safely in His love,

And held within Christ’s promise, and his arms they would surround,

And feel no pain or fear, but only sense His grace abound.


One day my gladdened father, overcome with peace and calm,

Received an answered prayer, and assured as Gilead’s balm,

His faith was lifted; fear allayed, now earthly life would end,

For in four months he died; back to his loving wife he’d wend.


I hear my mother’s music now, for it was never gone,

My children sing it to their sons, so it continues on,

And father’s faith is shared with each a true foundation strong,

And all are carried through this life with Heaven’s sweetest song.





Peter Lowell Paulson



October 10, 2010

A Cold October Morn

A Cold October Morn

***

A cold October morn,

And branches bending low,

A pine tree withered worn,

In rain frigid as snow.

Dark clouds are now within-

A grey enveloped sky,

This blustery day begins

With melancholy sigh.

The trees in autumn phase

With wind tall grasses roll,

And, yet my heart’s ablaze,

As silence fills my soul.

Peter Lowell Paulson

October 2, 2010

Autumn's Edge

Autumn’s Edge


A single wasp hovering

Ladybugs covering

Lightening bugs glowing

Above heathered hedge.



A single rose showing

Chrysanthemums growing

Impatiens fair dying

Near ponds silvered sedge.



A single crow crying

Geese southward are flying

The sparrows all gather

Approach autumn’s edge.


Peter Lowell Paulson

September 22, 2010

My Brother, Mark

My Brother, Mark

How long it takes to shape a mind and form a soul as you

And proffer the true essence what this life can truly be,

True friend; my sister’s brother lives so far out by the sea,

He lives to find what richness that its land may bring to view.

I truly know your heart and soul as youth can only do,

We roamed the streets unburdened laughed for we were young and free,

That chain of bonded kinship in my mind will always be,

With decades past until my dyeing day a friendship true.

So brother read the classics and attend the symphony

And all that you experience out in that distant land

For all its blended beauty is but favored company,

And as we watch the hour glass pour every grain of sand,

Share all the songs, stories and dreams in this life’s harmony.


Peter Lowell Paulson

September 21, 2010

Sonnet I

Sonnet I

I’ve yearned within this life that I could be,

Consumed within loves ever burning fire,

And rapt by flaming fingers of desire,

And hold that burning soul so close to me.

I walked into the garden there was she,

A meeting I approached her to inquire,

A table close for tea so to retire,

Her eyes that smile what wonders I could see.

And slow she swayed bare footed on the lawn,

In flowing dress as blue as azure sky,

And then she runs as a young deer she’s gone,

She’s put me to a test I know that I,

Must not pursue today for as a fawn,

This trusted hart will win her by and by.

Peter Lowell Paulson

September 19, 2010

Your Lighthouse

Your lighthouse tall and beaming bright,

The only port I sense tonight,

"And you, my dear, before I go,

Beyond blue breakers may you know-

That all my heart is meant for you",

I said; you turned and then withdrew,

That hand I touched; you walked away,

And said to me, “Don’t sail today,”


You know this is the final tour,

Just see me off; I'll be secure,

Or walk out by the lighthouse rail,

As home to you my ship I sail.


If you must go I will not wave

My brother doomed to ocean grave,

That day his lady came to pier,

Bad omens these, men disappear.

Upon the high seas rough winds roared,

It tossed our ship and shook each board,

But they held tight until we saw,

The rocks before your harbor draw.

I screamed to every man below,

"I see her from the lighthouse glow,"

That silhouette it's you, it's you,

You do love me, you do, you do.

Your lighthouse beam on moonless night,

Your harbor safe was in our sight,

The rudder broke the ship and we,

Were once at mercy of the sea.

The ship exploded on that shore,

A thousand shards on ocean floor,

A body on the beach lies still,

The morning light begins to fill-

Your eyes as down the strand you run,

to see the ruin in blazing sun,

My image seen on rocky land,

On knee you reach to take my hand.

You kiss my lips I open eyes,

We start to laugh, and in surprise,

We grab each other close; embrace,

Once more I touch your hand and face.

And evermore we see that day,

As aged we walk out to the bay,

Your silhouette by lighthouse drew,

Me from the ocean back to you.

Peter Lowell Paulson

September 16, 2010

A Child Once More

She looks at your face,

And then at the floor,

Dear Mother of mine,

A child once more.

This chair holds her still,

With pillows around,

She’ll look in your eyes,

And won’t make a sound.

Each night I must go,

And brush her fine hair,

As I start to converse about,

All family fare.

Then I touch her arm,

And hold the thin hand,

She’ll gaze at the stone,

In her wedding band.

I cherish each moment,

that I can just share,

These times with my mother,

And show that I care.

She raises her head,

And catches my eye,

I say that, “I love you.”

And kiss her goodbye.

These difficult times-

Are but only an end,

To prove that true love,

Will always transcend.

Peter Lowell Paulson

September 14, 2010

The Rain is Lightly Falling

The rain is lightly falling on the earthen floor below,

Our baby in its crib on downy pillow slumbers so.

I reach out to this bride of mine and stroke the flaxen curl,

I love this charming woman who was once my youthful girl.

And tenderly she takes my hand in hers to make secure,

This love she feels and yearns for every fiber to endure.

I took her to this far off land to wilderness out where,

To strike out what a man must claim a living and his share.

Our dreams they always were aligned and true love seems to be,

The driving force that keeps us close together; living free.

We know not what the future holds but this we always knew.

That we would stand together in this life and see it through.

We hold each other close; I kiss her lips so tender fair,

I gaze into her dark brown eyes and caress that flaxen hair.

“There’s nothing more that life could give to me”, I whisper low,

“Than you my lovely lady, and our babe that slumbers so.”

Peter Lowell Paulson

September 11, 2010

Going to the Well

I met a lovely woman once when going to the well,

She went to draw her water and she had a tale to tell.

Yes, she was married; had a spouse who beat her every day,

His words her very ‘soul’ he’d scar in scores upon her way.

He said he loved her early on when she was just a maid.

And with kind words he wooed her in their walks along the glade.

I told her ‘bout the words of God that she might like to hear.

That binds the wound, and heals the soul and dries the fallen tear.

She asked me how I came to know about these words of God.

I told her that I’ve borne her pain upon the road I’d trod.

A choice is laid before you now, and so to let it in,

You have to trust and ope’ the door for true joy to begin.

She said I am afraid for everything I trust has failed,

For in the past the promises I’ve heard have only paled.

This is one thing that you must do, and you must take this stand,

One thing I guarantee I’ll do, we can walk hand in hand.

Peter Lowell Paulson

September 10, 2010

Gabriel at Grandpa and Grandma's House

Grandpa and Grandma had Gabriel, our four and one-half year old grandson, for five days while Mom, Rose, and Dad, our son Michael, were two hours away delivering our newest grandson Elijah James on September 2, 2010.

Make no mistake, we had a great time. There will always, and forever, be a picture in my head of Gabriel holding a little metal, medieval soldier from York, England which I gave him to keep which came from my Dad and Mom’s travels there. Gabriel knows this “gift” is from his great-grandparents.

Gabriel is intelligent and inquisitive. He lately will ask how many miles it will take to get to the grocery store or to our office or to church, etc. He wanted to know, “How many miles did the ‘soldier’ travel to get here?” I had to check and it was 4031 miles from York, England to Springfield, IL where Gabriel lives.

When we would be getting “silly” and Gabriel would ask, for example, “How many miles to Wal-Mart?” I might say, “It’s 4031 miles.” And, we would both roar with laughter.

There is almost no downside to grandparenting. It is wonderful. You get all the perks; the fun without the frustration of childrearing. You get tired and back the child goes to the parent. To every parent I have to say, “Hang in there, there are grandchildren at the end of the rainbow.”

With ninety-nine percent of fun that you have with your grandchild, there is going to be a challenge or two during your “guardianship”. You expect it (heck, you raised kids yourself), and you actually desire your grandchild to show independence, and leadership.

One day we had the company of five adult family members. Gabriel didn’t like the chili we had for lunch, “Fine, then you will eat supper.” Gabriel said, in the afternoon, “Grandpa, I am hungry, I want a snack.” I replied, “No, wait until dinner”. Gabriel had a great steak dinner.

About eight o’clock in the evening Gabriel inquired, “Did I have supper today?” “Yes”, I answered, “You ate steak, and corn on the cob, a big roll, fruit salad, green beans and dessert.”

Our daughter Debbie was also visiting from Texas, with our six-month old grandson Graham (who was upstairs sleeping). Debbie was eating a small dish of ice cream in the living rooming where Grandma Julie and I were sitting.

Gabriel said, “I am still hungry”. Grandma said you can have some applesauce and proceeded to get the individual sized plastic cup of applesauce from the refrigerator. Gabriel sat at the kitchen table; spoon in one hand and the applesauce container in the other. He slowly started to loudly slurp the applesauce from its container.

Grandma said, “Don’t ‘slurp’, use your spoon.” I added, “Use your spoon”. Gabriel and I were about ten yards apart, but were looking at each other (we both were tired). He proceeded to put the spoon straight up on top of his head as if it were an Indian feather, and continued to slurp the applesauce from its plastic container.

I said, “Stop slurping; use your spoon to eat or that’s it, no more applesauce!” Gabriel took his spoon, got a big glob of applesauce on the spoon, put the spoon close to his mouth, and while we were this ten yards from each other we were eyeball to eyeball. Then it happened. He started to loudly slurp the applesauce from the spoon.

I said, “That’s it!” I stormed over to the kitchen table, grabbed the applesauce container to the sink and dumped its contents, and then said, “Get to bed!”

Silent tears were welling. Grandma became the ambassador to usher Gabriel upstairs and I proceeded to sit back in my chair in the living room. My daughter held up her spoon she had used to eat her ice cream and in a feigned voice said, “I used my spoon.”

I let a couple of minutes go by and proceeded upstairs to hear most of the storybook that Julie was reading to Gabriel. We had our hugs and talked about a “better day” tomorrow.

I told this story to our good friends, the Blackwells, when we went to dinner last evening. They have a new six-month old grandson now, too, and were very interested in the event. Bob said, "As you will remember from the movie 'Jurassic Park', they stated that the Raptors (Bob was drawing an analogy between these vicious meat eating dinosaurs and human children) are going to challenge the electric fences". "Sometimes", Bob stated, with a knowing smile, "you just have to turn up the voltage".

A House of Boys

I grew up in a house of boys,

Four brothers strong, and always friends,

Where sleds and toy guns were our toys,

Completing wins our only ends.

My parents were just wonderful,

They took us camping everywhere,

To lakes and forest bountiful,

In all that nature gave us fair.

We would at night in campfire see,

The embers glow before us light,

As tired eyes and joyous we,

Began to dream of morrow’s sight.

With every trial or trail we’d roam,

Find frogs and fish upon our way,

We never thought of going home,

This wilderness was ours to stay.

Fine memories we’ve forged in gold,

Like precious metal in the fire,

And poured and shaped into the mold,

A ring of yesterday’s desire.

We now are aged and time gone by,

And wish we could recapture past,

One only needs to close their eye,

To dream and hold those moments fast.

Life moves and captures our true heart,

With each new memory we hold,

It adds the detail and the art,

And filigrees that edge of gold.

Peter Lowell Paulson

August 27, 2010

Each Morning From my Porch

Each morning from my porch I view

Before the Sun’s arise,

The streetlight shining on the dew,

Amidst grey morning skies.

The neighborhood is silent; still,

And most still slumber on,

The day with every promise will

Alight with new day’s dawn.

A moth it hovers near the light

Above the street so near

Its wings in constant flutter flight

To reach this lamp so dear.

I love these morning moments fair,

When deer will silent roam,

Back toward the woods and safety there

Within their forest home.

This time of morn is wondrous free

In winter or in spring,

I thank my God for all I see.

And all that life will bring.

Peter Lowell Paulson

August 21, 2010

Happiness

When exploring for riches to find,

In your life as you toil in this place,

The key to your treasure in kind,

May be found by the end of the race.


The time in each day tarries on,

Each day seems to render its toll,

We move through life hither and yon,

In search of its ultimate goal.

There are many who look to their past,

To remember their happiest day,

With fine metals in gold we must cast,

To preserve our memories that way.

E’en others will find pleasure where,

In a search for a cure that they seek,

To cover the hurt that they bear,

Uncovering fixes quite weak.

True happiness comes in the now,

Just open your “eyes” and you’ll see,

God offers a day to endow,

To trust in His will and be free.

Peter Lowell Paulson

August 17, 2010

Fun with Food and Pets

We have two cats right now. We used to have dogs as well, but we travel so much it is just easier to care for cats. The difference in our two cats is phenomenal since they eat side by side and one is a truly skinny, and we refer to him as our “black and white ‘unit’” (after a colloquialism for a police squad car) named Albie, and the other cat is a  twenty-three pounder (which is a huge size for a cat) grey-striped fatty named Moses.

Whatever Moses eats, Moses retains, thus his hefty profile. Moses still runs very quickly, but only when it is meal time and then he is like greased lighting, racing to the food bowl. Albie likes to eat, but he is, for lack of a better word, bulimic. When Albie eats, he eats so quickly that eight out of ten times, as soon as he is finished he will “throw up” this meal in a neat long tube which we are forever cleaning up. Albie is, therefore, a sleek, lean “little guy”.

Albie is currently being treated for a digestive irritation with steroids, with wonderful results. What got me thinking about this article is that the steroids are delivered to Albie mixed with a tasty, chicken flavored cat food. Albie has always loved chicken, therefore he is very compliant with this therapy.

This brings me around to our two collies, Cubby and Trixie. Trixie LOVED a “Milk Bone-like” doggy treat called “Bonz”. She would do anything for a “Bonz”. If you said, “Trixie, would you like a ‘Bonz’?”, she would race into the kitchen and sit like a stone statue until you took one out of the box. Even though she was already sitting you could say, “Sit”, “Now, Sit” and “Sit, girl”, and each time she would scoot her hind quarters as if trying to obey you by sitting deeper into the floor. She would obey any demand (“Speak”, “Lye down”, “Roll over”, etc.) for a ‘Bonz’. Trixie even got so desirous for this treat that we could not even spell “B-O-N-Z” without her knowing what was coming.

Cubby was the “catch it in the air King”. Whereas Trixie was somewhat near-sighted and couldn’t catch anything tossed to her (it would bounce off her nose while she has trying to grab something tossed to her in the air), Cubby could catch ANYTHING tossed to him, pieces of doggy treats, meat, bread, anything that was within a foot of his head, Cubby could catch it in his mouth.

The family still chuckles about Cubby and the piece of fish. As I said, Cubby could catch anything out of the air, and the end result was one “chomp” and he had eaten the morsel tossed to him. One time I was cooking fish, and as usual the dogs were around the kitchen. When dinner was over there was a small piece of fish on the serving platter. I said, “Cubby, come here boy!”, and tossed the piece of fish in the air. Cubby caught it, as his usual, and once he closed his mouth he tipped his head downward towards the floor, opened his mouth and dropped the piece of fish on the floor, and stared at it. And then he stared some more. Once it registered in his doggy brain that, “This ‘stuff’ is not part of my dog world, EVER!”, he looked up at me with a superior look as if to say, “You have GOT to be kidding!”

He glanced once more at the fish with doggy disgust, and once more at me as if to say, “Would you like to try again?” “Some steak, perhaps, this time?” Our children started making up Cubby statements after that (as if Cubby could speak them in; a deep low voice) like, “I don’t eat fish”, or “I don’t eat anything that lives in the water”, “I don’t like things that have fins.”

Pets are wonderful, and everyone who keeps one knows the joys (and trials, too) that pets bring to the life of a family. I can’t ever imagine being without at least one pet. They can bring humor as well as joy into your life.

Grandson Gabriel and the Video Game World

Our grandson Gabriel Paulson visiting Grandpa and Grandma Paulson for a couple of days. He is four (and one-half) years old. He likes activity. He is engaged all of the time from the moment his feet hit the floor until he falls exhausted into bed for a nap, or at nighttime.

All grandparents are, or this is true of every grandparent I have talked to thus far, familiar with this story. Gabriel simply likes to play, and he likes someone to be with him at all times, if possible. Gabriel is a people person. Some children can find time to engage in “self entertainment” for a while. And, Gabriel can do this for a short stint. But, if you leave him to, for example, change a load of laundry, or clean up the kitchen, or fix a bed or two, Gabriel begins to beckon you to “come and play with me”.

Right now Gabriel is at Vacation Bible School (VBS) enjoying the camaraderie of other children his age while they learn about the love of Jesus and how to love one another as He taught us to do in this world of pestilence, famine and other concerns the world brings to its inhabitants.

But a few hours before he went to VBS his Grandpa and he were enjoying playing the Wii video games on our home entertainment center. The Wii system allows you to make a computer animated likeness of yourself. You can pick the face contours, eyes, nose, hair color, body size (tall or short, thin or wide), and you can even add glasses if you wish.

Gabriel was playing Wii sports. He would bowl or play tennis with other Wii likenesses that had been developed by our family members. So, for example, he would bowl as his father, Michael, or his uncle Tony. Later he was playing tennis as his aunt Erin. His opponents were a true diversity of individuals that included other females and even an African American person.

At one point Gabriel switched to boxing, and as his aunt Erin or later his Grandma, they were pummeling opponents to the mat which truly delighted his Grandpa (I love boxing, as my father did before me). No sooner did I suggest to Gabriel that we develop a character that looked like him (blond hair, round face, smallish nose, and, at his own suggestion, the perfect pair of sunglasses) we were into our first round of boxing where GABRIEL was defeating these computer animated “bruisers”.

Grandma came downstairs, after hearing our chants of, “knock him down”, and then Grandma stated that Gabriel’s mother had said, “No boxing!” So Gabriel went back to tennis. This time he made all four players be a computer image of him. You saw four Gabriels playing doubles tennis. I said, “Don’t you want to try to beat someone else?” Gabriel said, “No, this way I will win all the time.”

I a way, however, Gabriel had created a perfect Wii world, he could win, but nobody else had to lose really. No one had to suffer defeat at his hand. I only wish the world could be a little more like this for everyone, everybody wins; nobody loses.

My Wife

My wife is an amazing person. I love her. The thing that amazes me, and always did from the days after we got beyond the superficial pleasantries of the initial dating phase, is that she loved me too. You cannot be married to someone for thirty-six years and not know everything about them.

One of the things that stuck with me from the book, “All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten”, author Robert Fulghum talked about “the committee in your head”. He said that most people (and I am paraphrasing, because it has been years since I read the book) have a “committee” in their head that keeps you from, for example, running down the street naked. He mentioned that you may think that is something you consider doing, but the “committee in your head” says to you, “That is NOT a good idea”, so you don’t.

As I remember the description of “the committee”, the author went on to say that it is made up of respected people in your life such as parents, grandparents, and other people who you really respect, and in most cases, who know you personally.

I have never stopped to really assess my “committee”, although I am sure one exists, and if it does, my wife would have to be the chairperson of that committee. If she is not the chairperson she is certainly the chief legal counsel who brings not only her own experience and background to issues, but an intimate knowledge of everything about me to ANY discussion.

The point is, she really knows me, that is, all the really personal stuff, and still she loves me more than anyone I know, or will ever know in my lifetime. This is a forever thing; someone I WANT to spend an eternity with.

We have had what we call a “twenty-four, seven” (i.e. twenty-four hours a day; seven days a week) conversation going since we’ve known each other. Sometimes it get into little bogs about this or that, but generally speaking we have real conversation about what is going on in our life about, ourselves, family, religious beliefs, financial security, intimacy issues, and of course, that physical, wonderful love part that transcends into heaven’s realms. Have to say it, because it’s true. And, cannot ignore it regardless of what my “committee in the head” tells me.

All I know is I could write a book about her, because there are so many wonderful dynamics to her which I admire. But I will always come back to one basic, undeniable truth. “I love you, Julie!”

A Squeamish Male

Before I get into the central theme of this article, I have to assert that I consider myself a pretty “tough” guy when it comes to physical confrontation, in sports for example. Growing up with four brothers, whom I loved as a child and love to this day, you learn how to stand tough in confrontation, and that includes fighting. I have been known to fight much older, bigger opponents, as a youth over the honor of my mother when they called her a derogatory name, for example. I played football and wrestling in high school and literally never feared my opponent, because, regardless of their size I just always considered myself tougher, and certainly more aggressive; always feeling that I would “win” any battle.

Having said that I have to say quite honestly I don’t like to change diapers. Actually I don’t like to have to deal with anything that comes out of a child from either direction. I am not going to mince words, vomit is a +10 on the disgusting scale (that is where +1 is not disgusting at all, and +10 is just, well, nasty, vile disgusting) I’ll give “poop” a +7, but it is still up there.

I remember during the raising of our own three children (two boys and a girl), that I only had to clean up vomit once. My wife was a great “nurse”. She fairly leapt to the challenge when that deed occurred, certainly having great concern for her child (the child was hers for the moment, and she could own it,) and she would bark out orders like, “Get me a bucket of water with some Lysol cleaner”, or “I need a couple of rags here”, etc. I was more than happy to be her “stand off to the side” concerned, but silent, distant-helper.

I remember very vividly, as if it were yesterday, when our oldest son Michael (he was probably 8 years old) was sick with the flu, and so was my poor wife. We were all in bed at night and we heard from down the hall that signal from the child’s room, “oh-oh-oh!” Julie was so feverishly delirious (I knew how she felt, having just recovered from the same disease) that she physically and mentally could not move. I knew I had to move fast. I ran as fast as my feet could carry me to get Michael on his feet and scurry to the bathroom.

Once there, I figured we were home free because the toilet was in sight. At that moment, however, he stopped as if possessed, and just like Linda Blair in the movie, ""The Exorcist (minus the head moving on his neck), he stepped in 360 degree circle vomiting everywhere in the bathroom and missing the toilet altogether. I remember leaving him briefly to go into our bedroom to quietly say to Julie that Michael didn’t make it to the toilet. Julie could barely lift her head off the pillow and whispered, “Pete you’re going to have to deal with it.”

I got Michael cleaned up and changed into new pajamas and to bed. I returned to the bathroom with a towel wrapped around my nose and mouth, and squinting my eyes (because I didn’t have safety goggles) and cleaned up, what I considered the equivalent of a radioactive, nuclear spill.

Now I have more grandkids on the way. Graham is our newest grandson and our daughter and son-in-law's first child.  He is four months old and lives with his parents in Texas. My oldest grandson, Gabriel, is four-years old. I was able to avoid the whole diaper thing for two and one-half years. Whenever he, as a baby, had a “movement”, I also had an deft movement out of the room to “do something important” as Grandma or Gabriel’s Mom or Dad took care of Gabriel's diaper.

I LOVE my grandkids. My grandson Gabriel knows it (as will Graham, as he comes to know me better) and so does the rest of the family. I love to play games, go to the park, watch videos, sled, build snowmen, etc. I even love to baby-sit. But when Gabriel was two and a half , my wife was going to the office with Michael and Rose, so I was the designated baby-sitter for the morning. Gabriel and I had a blast watching his favorite videos and “chilling” on the couch with a bowl of Grandpa’s famous, popcorn.

Gabriel was fairly adept at doing the bathroom thing on his own now. All I had to do was get him into the bathroom, lower his drawers and place him on his potty chair, and “Voila”, everything was accomplished. If there was nothing “solid” in the toilet, we reversed the process:  up with the drawers, wash the hands and we were done. I even remembered that Mom and Dad gave Gabriel an M&M chocolate candy piece for a “Job Well Done” treat. Gabriel would ask me for two M&M’s and I, being the model of restraint, said, “Only one.”

Thirty minutes later, Gabriel would announce, “I have to go to the bathroom”. Into the bathroom to repeat the above described process, only this time there was nothing in the toilet. After the washing of the hands was over Gabriel asked, “Grandpa, may I have an M&M?” I said, “No, you didn’t do anything” (I knew the game he was playing now—I wasn’t born yesterday). Twenty minutes later, “Grandpa I have to go to the bathroom.” I said, “Are you going to DO something this time?” “Yes,” came the reply.

We repeated the process once again, and success, actual “poop” this time. I had to add wiping his tiny tush to the ordeal, but that wasn’t too traumatizing (for me that is). An EXTRA special washing of hands followed all of this, and then, “Grandpa, may I have an M&M?” I said, “Yes, and you may have two this time.” It took awhile because he couldn’t decide what his favorite colors would be.

When Mom and Dad and Grandma returned for lunch, I told them about our great morning. I announced that I even remembered to give Gabriel an M&M for a reward for successful bathroom accomplishments. My son Michael said to me, “Dad, Gabriel was ‘playing you’.” He continued, “We haven’t given Gabriel ANY M&M’s as a reward for the bathroom for the last six months.”

OK, Grandpa was “out of touch” here. And, now, by Christmas we will have everyone home. Gabriel will be almost 5 years old, Graham will be 10 months old, and we will have Elijah, who is to be Gabriel’s little brother, and Tony and Erin will also have a baby (the same age as Elijah, four months); as yet un-named. What a great time we will have! Maybe there will be a little snow on the ground, or ice on the sidewalk that Grandpa can deal with when the “diaper detail” begins.