That House is Empty Now

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

The house is empty,

my sister texted.

The house where we grew up,

where my mom decorated

for every holiday on the calendar,

where my dad, without warning,

would break out in a random song

from his vast repertoire—

Gilbert and Sullivan, Carmen, crooner tunes,

love songs for mom even after she died.

On his own last day, from their bed in that house,

he warbled a couple of bars

of “Molly Malone”

and I finished the line,

“alive alive-oh.”

That house is empty now.

Then again,

it’s not.

Every room holds memories.

Every door and window,

every wall,

the fireplace, the kitchen, the back porch.

The memories don’t die.

The beauty doesn’t die.

The grace and generosity don’t die.

In Daddy’s last days,

when someone would visit,

he would say, “We had a good run, didn’t we?”

Yes, Daddy, we did.

We had a good run in that house, and

oh God, how do I ever repay all the good?

The answer arrives

before I finish the question:

Embody that goodness.

Match it.

Become it.

Give it to your children and their children.

Share it with everyone you meet.

Breathe it out to the world.

For this love,

this joy,

this peace

is forever and for all.

This house will never be empty.

-kh-

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

Nature of the week:

Shadow of the week:

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Afraid I Might Fall

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

Sometimes there are no words,

there’s only sitting in silence

and letting the tears come.

It feels massively important to lose

a father.

I’m left with roots running deep,

but the trellis is gone,

the one that held me up,

the one too often taken for granted.

There is now a breeze at my back

where the support used to be,

and I’m afraid I might fall,

but I am finding I’m strong enough

to stand

on my own,

and I realize that all these years

I have been strong.

And all these years,

he knew.

-kh-

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

Nature of the week:

Shadow of the week:

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Peace Like a River

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

“When peace like a river attendeth my way,

when sorrows like sea billows roll,

whatever my lot, thou hast taught me to say,

It is well; it is well with my soul.”*

This hymn was softly playing on my sister’s phone when my dad took his final breath last week. My sisters and I were holding his thin hands, listening beyond the music to his ragged breathing. We had told him a few minutes earlier not to worry, that we would be all right. I said, “We’ll be here, Daddy. We’ll walk with you as far as we can.” And we did. As he let go and stopped struggling to breathe, a deep peace carried all of us, and as the last phrase of the hymn drifted across us, he drifted away. “It is well; it is well with my soul.”

May peace, deep and buoyant as a gentle, restful river carry you through this day and all the days to come and assure you that truly, it is well.

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

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Shadow of the Week:

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*Written by Horatio G. Spafford, public domain

In the Back Yard Under the Pines

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

I rarely share my thoughts here, because so many have said them before, much more clearly and beautifully. But here’s one I put to paper yesterday.

I meant to put on sunscreen,

insect repellent,

maybe even a floppy hat—

Isn’t that how you dress

for a garden that needs weeding?

Instead, I went out to take a picture

of a rose,

the first of the season.

Then the mahonia beckoned,

its berries hanging in grape-like clusters,

blue, powdered with white,

another photo op

in the back yard under the pines

in the garden that needed weeding.

I’ll just test the weeds, I thought,

see if recent rains have softened the soil,

find out if they pull easily.

Up came a mat of chickweed,

a clump of wild violets,

tendrils of ivy,

all overstretching their bounds.

And so it went,

tugging and tossing,

freeing the spent daffodils

from one clump of weeds,

then another

and another.

There on my knees,

fingers digging through pine straw,

I breathe the rich smell of dirt,

the fresh scent of leaves.

A surprised millipede skitters past,

disturbed earthworms tunnel deeper.

Chickadees sing their name,

Wrens chirr,

a woodpecker tap-tap-taps overhead.

Wind brushes the pines and elms,

ebbing and flowing like the ocean,

a sea of air

swishing,

sighing,

whispering peace—

peace with the rhythms of nature,

peace with the seasons of life and death

in the garden now in late spring bloom

after dying back for winter.

Whispering, too, of my own seasons,

of my own dying to come

some day.

Even though I hear the whisper,

even though I might prepare,

that day will surprise me.

Oh—

I meant to put on sunscreen,

insect repellent,

a floppy hat—

Isn’t that how you dress for a garden?

–KH

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Courage, Gaiety, and the Quiet Mind

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

Happy New Year!

“Give us grace and strength to persevere. Give us courage and gaiety and the quiet mind. Spare to us our friends and soften to us our enemies. Give us the strength to encounter that which is to come, that we may be brave in peril, constant in tribulation, temperate in wrath and in all changes of fortune, and down to the gates of death loyal and loving to one another.” – Robert Louis Stevenson

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

Nature of the week:

Shadow of the Week—a rope fence at the zoo:

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A World Full, A Cup Full

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

“…although the world is full of suffering,

it is full also of the overcoming of it.”

– Helen Keller –

Helen Keller’s words remind me of something Frederick Buechner said in his essay for Going on Faith: “All the death that ever was, set next to life, would scarcely fill a cup.” It also makes me think of some advice that Fred Rogers left us: When bad things happen, look for the helpers.

So keep your eyes open; be aware of the bad. But don’t drown in that cup.

Nurture peace. Cultivate kindness. Carry the calm.

Keep moving toward what brings life.

Look for the helpers.

And be one.

Nature of the week:

Shadow of the Week:

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Carry the Calm

Karyn Henley

death

That House is Empty Now

Afraid I Might Fall

Peace Like a River

In the Back Yard Under the Pines

Courage, Gaiety, and the Quiet Mind

A World Full, A Cup Full