The First Christmas Without You

It was Cambay Lane. 

That was my home ... for as long as I can remember. 

My father purchased the house on this new tract in Huntington Beach in 1959. He didn't even plan to buy property; he wasn't in the market. But some visiting friends convinced him to take a trip from his apartment in Redondo to tour around. He tagged along just for the heck of it. 

From there, he would be the only one who made the leap, one of the original home owners on this block. It was here that he lived - raising a family with a wife Patricia and their three children: Mary Lynn, Jimmy, Kathy. It was here that the Ellises really took root. It was here where I would be raised, along with my sisters. It was here that I would co-create memories to last a lifetime. 

And it was here that my mom would pass in 2014 and here where my father would spend his final days, departing March 15, 2021.

All those years, all that time, all the holidays, all those Thanksgiving dinners, first in the dining room, then spreading out to the living room once the spouses and extended family and nephews and nieces came along. 

For as long as I can remember, this was the epicenter for family. Though I would move to San Diego in 1990, the same year Kathy married Norman and moved out, this was still where the heart was. This was where the memories were created and where they still reside:

• The basketball backboard and games of "H-O-R-S-E"
• The tennis ball against the garage door with the slats, making the rebound ricochet away
• The Saturday nights in the living room with Mary Tyler Moore, Bob Newhart and Carol Burnett 
• The lunch meals of Campbell's soup as Kathy and I sat on the floor, with General Hospital on in the background 
• The trackball sessions down the hallway
• The pickle, red-light-green-light and hide-and-seek games out front on the lawn with the Ewalds, the Lappins, the Utslers, the Meads and of course my best friend Jamie Jordan
• The Christmas tree all lit up, with the TV - for once - being turned off
• That silence, that sweet silence with the only sound a fireplace crackling and the warm hum of family connection

So many memories. Way too many to count. 

And so much love. Way too big to comprehend.

And, finally, so much loss, when time and space calls for an end. 

For this will be the first Christmas without you. 

Without you Dad, as you chose to move on to that other home known in antiquity through angelic hosts on high. Without you Kathy and Norman, as you moved yourselves to Indiana shortly after Dad passed. Without you niece Grace and husband Cody plus Abigail, as you moved away as well. Without you nephew Emmett, and wife Amy plus Elijah and Hannah, taking a new home and state too. Without you Tess, wherever you may be, in your endeavor to be free. And without you Jamie Jordan, who tragically and suddently departed as well, on into the mysterious unknown.

This year saw many losses - not only my father's passing, but the remainder of my family moving out east. 

This will be the first holiday without these family members right here in living color, in person, right here in physical presence, enjoyed by my wife and myself in our trips to Orange County. 

Even the home on Cambay Lane sold in August. After 59 years, it now belongs to another family, with a couple of young children, ready to create memories of their own, with their own games on that lawn, and their own best friends they may treasure as time moves along. 

Sure, my extended family will have our Zoom meetings, waving hello with the obligatory "how are yous." We will have emails and texts and gifts sent through the mail. 

And that will be fine for now.

But the loss is real, and it will be something I will need to feel. And express, in my own way. 

And the best thing of all - we will have our memories. The echos of children laughing and playing outside, the glow of the TV reruns with a family laughing out loud, enjoying each other's company, the meals shared as a Christmas tree glimmered its gold, frankincense and myrrh. 

On some level, it will always be our Cambay Lane. 

I will embrace the beauty and wonder of a love, as much magical and it is undefinable.

It will there ... in a sacred place ... for as long as I can remember. 

Circa 1998, the Ellis, Kellogg and Slusher collection 

(Photo by Norm; Camera shy Michael)

Into Eternity I Enter

 

 

A romantic love poem for my wife Jennifer. 

Memories arrive at the front door of my mind

A lake’s eternal rippling rings, the echoes of time 

Did we ever really part … from that very first union?

Did we ever really start … was there need for reunion?

Was there ever a moment, where our souls did not show? 

Was there a time, of your splendor, I did not know?

Was there ever a struggle of conflicting give and take?

Or did we simply surrender to the One … for God’s sake?

Oh no, lines blur for the true receiver and sender

It is at this time … into eternity I enter

 

Memories arrive at the front door of forever 

It’s as if we have always been here together 

Memories of absolute glee, bouts of deep and lasting laughter

Lombardy trophies and Stanley Cups we went after

Wild rides through the sexual landscape of adventures

Vegas, Magic Mountain, Knotts, a cruise with World Ventures

Ammachi, Victoria BC, Indian food in Big Bear 

Countless oils, remedies, and meals … given with your care

Freedom For All, 1000 Breaths, engaging gatherings at the home

A wedding or two for the committed, never to be left alone 

A vow and ceremony would burst forth a new birth

Saying goodbye, for now, to some we knew on this earth  

On mystical levels, on walks and talks, we will always be 

With that regal, smarty-pants one we know as Hennessy

In your yoga, we find shanti, namaste and our truest center

It is at this time … into eternity I enter

 

For here we are – two solar systems searching for the sacred star 

And to think, at no time, did we ever have to travel far

The path was created by the Divine; we simply found our way

And even through upset, stress, and fear, we will not stray 

Led through your giving, your sharing, your sweetness, your beauty 

A true heart, a true love, a real blessing, a real cutie

The practical one whose deep waters run romantic

Echoed through this poet’s wordsmithing semantics 

Long ago ... or in this eternal moment ... we made a choice

To follow a Christed direction and the angel’s loud voice 

A couple, riding the waves, in tandem, in communion 

Removing ourselves from dim caves of darkness and delusion 

So, did we ever really start … was there really a reunion?

Did we ever really part … from that very first union?

Will there ever be a place, where our spirits do not go?

Will there ever be a time, of our light, we do not know?

Neigh, we follow the echoes of time, the ripples on the surface lake

We fall into the arms of the One … for God’s sake

Yes, we make the smart move, into the sweetest of sweet surrender 

As we awaken and realize, at this time … into eternity we enter

 

The Beast

I thought the phrase "Don't feed the beast" was original when I thought of it. Alas, it's pretty common. So after changing the poem's title, I let it flow, as I enjoyed this ancient theme. 

You don't know his image, you don't know his name
Yet he influences your life ... just the same
He broadcasts TV news, and songs from the devil's muse
Yet he will promise safety and comfort – that is the ruse
He undertakes clandestine deeds, from sunset to sunrise 
You share some daily views ... that is the surprise 
He resides in the outer world, creating madness and mayhem 
He reflects the mirror of inner worlds – in every woman and man
You have known of the legacy, you surely know the folklore
The beast is always hungry; the beast needs more
And more
 
The beast needs to consume every day and every night
The beast needs to ground every heavenly flight
The beast needs to sear every ear, and blind all eyes 
The beast thirsts for the blood on the battlefield of lies 
The beast is your friend right up until the end of time
Until he takes everything that is yours, ours, and mine
The beast sits in waiting behind every darkened door
The beast is always hungry; the beast needs more
More and more
 
And where is this hunger satisfied and how is he fed?
Be astonished, the source rests upon your bedfellow’s bed
Like sugar for cancer, he eats treats for sweet diseases
Like water damage in hidden crevice, he does as he pleases
Your anger is his appetizer, it garners his fine favor 
Your addictions to gluttony, booze and blow he loves to savor
Revenge, suppression, and enmity help fulfill his demands
Procrastination and porn call out for idle hands
Just as theft and taxes feed the famished government machine
Just as false prophets soil the sacred into the obscene
Just as flies venture into spider webs only to be caught
We must awaken to the folly of the dance that must stop
Must stop!
 
The beast has needed to consume every day and every night
The beast has desired to ground every heavenly flight
Yet, the beast collapses, defeated, when abandoned on distant shore
The beast will not be hungry when there is nothing more
The beast will succumb – left deaf, blind and dumb
When you stop in your tracks, and choose … to cease to run
The beast will starve when he is no longer provided his share 
Poisoned by the illumination that comes from your self-care 
Lick the wound, heal the heart, unite in light, soothe the sore
And then study war, draw swords, and feed the beast no more
No more
No more
 

The Darkness Trembles

A patriot pal mentioned the phrase "the darkness trembles" in a text. Sounded like a poem indicating the light will always win. That is the good news.

Corruption arises, dark steam from underground

The wicked wield power in games of lost and found

No longer dollars sought, for they have all that they need

This goes beyond lust and hunger ... games, toys and greed
The ultimate desire, undisclosed treacherous goals
The accumulation of property, destinies, and souls
Special treatment lifts egos and kings high upon its shoulders
The hypnotized blindly follow the evil mind-controllers
The cohesive comply, we may never see what reality resembles
Somewhere though, somehow … the darkness trembles 
Yes indeed, somewhere somehow … the darkness trembles
 
Now what can we believe here, who is the taker and the giver?
Media is on the airwaves, selling everyone down the river
Blatant falsehoods – now a parade of the vicious and the sick 
Politicians lies are now the latest Jedi mind-trick
Up is down, war is peace, just as many once prophesized 
The glimmering glow of the show keep viewers mesmerized
Taking orders from those whose powers are meant to be limited
Masked and vaxxed citizens, now timid, controlled, inhibited
The confused need to question, so we may see what reality resembles
Somewhere, somehow the truth is … the darkness trembles 
Yes indeed, somehow somewhere … the darkness trembles
 
But how could darkness tremble, it holds the might and power
It hides in cracks and crevices, and in the top of terror’s tower
The beams of death rays have the weak bow and the fearful cower 
A passport to hell, an injection of forced will, a chemtrail shower 
So how can it be, in the land of the brave and the home of the free
How can we reclaim what was gifted us, from sea to shining sea? 
Gifted not from man or tyrants whose hubris will have them fall
But rather from Divine Providence, the Creator, the overseer of all 
Evil in the dark of night laughs at everyone falling for its game
Yet truth, like a rose, will stand in certainty, by any other name 
The slumbering will seek to know, so all can see what reality resembles
Somewhere, somehow in anticipation … the darkness trembles 
Yes indeed, seen upon horizon … the darkness trembles
 
In the depths, the will of “we the people” shall restore a foundation true
And the sins and sorrows and shame will gently be washed anew
Flowers will bloom, seeds will sprout, the sun shall shine magnificent rays
The truth cannot be mocked, in the beginning, and in the end of days 
A revolution of the heart, a revelation in the mind
Joining brother, sister, father and mother … in kind
The nightmare will cease, bringing a predicted peace, so that all can truly find
What can be embraced in the moment, and what horror can be left behind
The awakened will finally come to know, seeing all that reality resembles
In glorious triumphant exaltation … the darkness trembles 
Yes, when facing directly into the light of the Lord … the darkness trembles
The darkness trembles 

On Point

Written for Sergeant Marine Nicole Gee, who was one of 13 military members killed in a suicide bombing on August 26, 2021 in Afghanistan.

Remaining behind, post withdrawal, taking the hard and strong stand
Hamid Karzai International Airport – Kabul, Afghanistan
From Sacramento, married, a young marine, all of 23
August 26, terrorist attack, taken, Nicole L. Gee
Six days prior, pictures, loving her job … then the report came along
"There was an explosion. And just like that … she's gone"

One of thirteen, lost in a mere moment, lost in a flash

Identification, a flight, a casket draped with the American flag

Flying home to Roseville, where family awaits a final farewell

Honor, legacy, commitment, care … she did her job so well

Services and speeches, tears and tributes, so many memories to anoint 

Nicole on guard, on her game, on her post … always on point

 

In her role, everything must run smooth, everything must be set

Handling the logistics – ensuring everyone’s needs get met

Succeeding at her mission, so the larger operation would not fail

A caregiver – with clear mind, open heart, and attention to detail  

Her reliable nature, her alertness, her clarity – this, the best defense 

The invisible, behind-the-scenes impact … all of it immense

Social media posts, a job in progress, a job worthwhile – yes, a positive word

Ushering other souls to safety, "escorting evacuees onto the bird"

She was good at what she did, everything taken care of, where it needed to be

Caring about the lives of others … marine sergeant Nicole L. Gee

A proud and honored military member, serving a country, saving the day

Out there faithfully holding the line, out there in harm’s way  

No matter the locale, she’d dot the I’s, cross the T’s and clearly case the joint

A marine on guard, on her post, on the front lines … always on point

And then there is Nicole, humble, what you get is what you see

Beyond the weapons, the tasks, the boots and the battle fatigues 

“A marine’s marine,” “a light in a dark world,” a peacemaker in the wild 

“I love my job,” she posted … while cradling an infant Afghan child

Holding high an oath to country and a community she held dear

Motivation, determination and fearlessness fueled a passion for career

"A hometown hero," married to Jarod, committed to her work

Her sister would say, “We will be forever changed and hurt” 

A casualty of violence, a tale no one would ever want to tell

Honor, legacy, commitment, care … she lived her life so well

In some higher world of beauty, may all fallen soldiers find peaceful home 

She wasn’t just one of 13, or one in a million, but rather one of our own

For now, a new position, a new mission, one that only God shall appoint 

Nicole L. Gee – forever in our hearts and prayers, forever out there … on point

James Anthony Ellis is a writer and producer living in San Diego, and can be reached at www.LegacyProductions.org or JimEllis1103@Gmail.com.

Moments In Time - A Gift for Belinda and Jim

Moments in time, memories arise through each line
From the obvious overt, to the sweet sublime 
Belinda lists them off … one after another, again and again 
Every moment with his wife is a favorite, so says Jim 

And so here we go, hop aboard, let’s ride this ride

Moving from the past to present, an ever-flowing tide
Meeting through common friends – Carol and Paul’s plan of attack

Belinda had gone to Hawaii, until Paul called Jim: “She’s baaaaaaack” 

She wanted a tennis partner, tired of doing life alone

Jim too – they would find common connection via the phone

A first encounter, Capitola Community Center tennis, September 22 

A bit informal, didn’t call it “a date” - then why bring chocolates too?  

And in effortless flow, a stolen moment under a tree 

Belinda remembers it so clear – “And then, he kissed me” 

Shall he propose, they talked marriage for a long time   

Dating six and a half years, will he bring forth the famous line? 

When Jim dropped something and went to a knee, Belinda would get the feeling… 

“Is this the time Jim?” Hmmm, Jim would learn to bend over instead of kneeling

Driving through mountains to Santa Cruz, a strike out on Highway 17  ````````````````

Then later with a ring, a proper proposal, leading to May 14  

The wedding day came after a year of coordinating, planning, and waiting

It was Monet's bridge in Giverny overlooking waterlilies, like a painting 

Dancing on air, excited, filled with wonder, beauty, and joy

Sunny Hakone Gardens in Saratoga, greenery, a pond, turtles and fish koi

In retrospect, so much led up to a marriage between these souls, kindred and kind

So many pins on the road map, so many memorable moments in time

Playing tennis, ping-pong, pickleball, Pokémon, taking walks along the beach
Kick the rock, Walton Lighthouse, a movie on the couch, hands within reach
A riled-up wasp nest, they came after Belinda’s clothes and hair, oh no!

When getting off plane to Hawaii, Jim fell flat on his face, breaking his toe  

Laughing out loud at episodes of “Friends,” wanting to help a sea lion down harbor way

Rolling Stones in San Diego; Barbra Streisand at the Shark Tank in San Jose   
Hawaii’s city of Refuge, off a ledge, two steps and into the ocean they go
Swimming with wild spinner dolphins, Belinda and Jim four years in a row  
Eiffel Tower, on the River Seine, within the City of Lights

Le Jules Verne Restaurant, a window seat, one of the magical nights

A Croatia castle, a sword, a Dragon Room, Jim knighted by Belinda … so neat 

Santorini island off Greek Mediterranean, Lake Bled in Slovenia, Damanhur Spiritual Retreat 
Crow’s Nest, Sanderlings in Aptos, Le Papillon, Starbucks – always a winner
Renting a Montalvo Park room in Saratoga, along with a Valentine’s dinner  

Sentiments from Jim: She is kind, honest, positive, even-tempered, generous, sensitive, and full of care
I’m so very lucky to have met her, she can always count on me to be there
Sentiments from Belinda: I’ve never met a man so thoughtful of other people, competitive but fair 
It’s so glorious to be with him, he’s a keeper, I must have done something right, somewhere

And so envelops a love story, complete with an effortless rhythm and rhyme 

So much love, so much admiration, so many memorable moments in time

Audio Rendition Found HERE

There Are No Words ...

Written for anyone who has experienced heartbreaking separation and loss. Some will be forever missed ... in words that can not be truly conveyed.

 

This poet goes silent, the stage goes dark
The full-length soliloquy now reads stark
The moment is hush, like the eternal dawn
The lyrics may end … the music plays on
There’s nothing to be said, nothing to be heard
Truth be known … there are no words

Thou shall not match the terms for love
As we rise to heights countless miles above
Any attempt at alignment becomes a breach
The utterance of language simply cannot reach
In the sky, only room for high-flying birds
Truth be known … there are no . . .

There are no words for this kind of pain
Days and nights go by … again and again
There are no words for this sort of loss
The giving and receiving, the highest cost
There are no words for the heart that knows
The love that grows and grows … and grows

So we shall be still tonight, and not give a thought
To the caves of shadows where we can get caught
We shall not try to understand that which goes beyond
But lie down in the field, and recall the dawn
Where we can say nothing more, but rest assured
Truth be known … 

For Hennessy: There Are No Words

Written for Jennifer and Hennessy and anyone who has experienced heartbreaking separation and loss. Our Akita Hennessy left late June 2021, and will be forever missed ... in words that can not be truly conveyed, as is the case in many a loss.

This poet goes silent, the stage goes dark
The full-length soliloquy now reads stark
The moment is hush, like the eternal dawn
The lyrics may end … the music plays on
There’s nothing to be said, nothing to be heard
Truth be known … there are no words

Thou shall not match the terms for love
As we rise to heights countless miles above
Any attempt at alignment becomes a breach
The utterance of language simply cannot reach
In the sky, only room for high-flying birds
Truth be known … there are no …

There are no words for this kind of pain
Days and nights go by … again and again
There are no words for this sort of loss
The giving and receiving, the highest cost
There are no words for the heart that knows
The love that grows and grows … and grows

So we shall be still tonight, and not give a thought
To the caves of shadows where we can get caught
We shall not try to understand that which goes beyond
But lie down in the field, and recall the dawn
Where we can say nothing more, but rest assured
Truth be known …  

 

 

The Boy I Knew

A prose for Jamie Jordan, a best friend growing up. Born May 11, 1963. He left too soon, July 20, 2021.

 

Cambay Lane, across the street, a best friend zero to eleven 
A buddy, experiencing life, everything from hell to heaven

Full participation, playing all out, giving our best, fully alive
All that could fit between 1963 and 1975
It was during these magic times, we lived, laughed and grew
This was Jamie Jordan … that’s the boy I knew
 

Early, as an infant I stopped breathing, I was rescued by his mom
There was Dale, Jim, Kris, Kim, Jamie – and a handful of animals that came along
Living next to the Fehners – Kathleen and us would dance to the Fifth Dimension
“The Age of Aquarius” was our tune, lemon drops taking most of our attention
Calling me out to play in the morning – no knock, no words – just bouncing a basketball
Collecting baseball cards, marbles, Slurpee cups – hey, why did he get them all?
Well, at least I got to keep the airplane made out of only three planks of wood
But wait! All the baseball cards, marbles, and Slurpee cups? Not good
Though, walking to school with the gang everyday, one time I forgot my lunch
I ran home to retrieve it – Jamie the only one to wait for me out of the bunch
I loved Terry Shannon; he loved Lori Franke, the red-haired girl
At the dentist office, he’d go in the bathroom and loudly pretend to hurl
His house had a family room and UHF and one of the first color TVs
Laying around all day on a lazy Saturday – doing as we pleased
Speed Racer, Little Rascals, Dennis the Menace, Sesame Street – whatever was on
I remember he liked the Carpenters’ “Top of the World” and Helen Reddy’s “Delta Dawn”
We loved the Dolphins and Dodgers, even wore the team’s colors, playing catch
We could get free baseball game tickets with enough Pepsi bottle caps 

Birthday parties, trick or treating, in my backyard we put on a show
Little Indian guides, Country Day, Chinger, Whitey and “Go Huffer Go”
A real and lethal bow and arrow – a Christmas gift he got
Into puddles of mud after the rain – slide, jump and flop
At his house, in the back, he had this cool tree house fort
We exploded the firecracker in our faces, the wick was just too short
Earning money for the Freedom fireworks, including the big King Kong
Putting water into my dad’s gas tank – man, what a ding dong
Slicing up some upholstery and my leg with a razor, that was pretty bad
He said that was the worst whoopin’ he ever got from his dad
Time would move swiftly along, yes time just flew
Jamie, from 0 – 11 … that’s the boy I knew 

 

And then there were all the sports and games, competing like a rival brother
We had to be on the same team, or we would have surely killed each other
A game of “pickle” on my lawn – the other kids would come to play
“Smear the queer” was downright violent – we could barely walk the next day
Playing basketball with his backboard … hmm, how can we clear the driveway?
Accidentally sending his mom’s car to the middle of Cambay
Mother May I, Red Light Green Light, freeze tag, kick ball
Five pitch, three flies up, 4-square, tetherball
Playing “interception” with Kathy, Glenn Lappin or maybe Mark Christie
Epic games of hide and seek … where the white light pole was “free”
Games were always fair, mostly fun-spirited and never mean
Though when you lost you had to go through the “spanking machine”
All those sporting competitions – man we both wanted to win
His fight with Clay Platt was cool; he kicked him right under the chin
Jamie was fiercely loyal; he would fight anyone to protect his own
Clete, Ruben and Billy – the Cubs little league team, playing at home
Then a funeral for Ruben, buried in his uniform – so young to die
Jim Jordan, Jamie’s dad, on the way there, saying: “It’s OK to cry”
 

We were hippy longhaired kids, inseparable … until things went bad
Spitting water over my head and laughing – it made me just so mad
Then a reunion the first day of 6^th grade – he came over to my house that day
I opened the door; he was always so simple – “Hey, do you want to come outside and play?”
One sad summer his family moved – only to Irvine … not too far?
Hmm, when you’re only 11 – it might as well be the moon or a distant star
The loss of a buddy, a competitor … no one would really understand
I’d have to let him go … to become the adult man
Yet memories can keep alive what time cannot do
Nothing with ever take away – Jamie Jordan, the boy I knew
The boy I knew

 

The Love of a Mother and Wife

 

 

Written for Debbie, whom we lost in May 2011. Perspective, sentiments and memories from her husband Roger.

What is there to living, what is there to life?
Memories and a prayer for a beautiful mother and wife
Debra Lynn Leonardy, you were a dream that once came true
Leaving a legacy of love and a heart that longs for you

Born in Gadsden, Alabama, a southern bell she was
She told you what was on her mind, simply just because
Graduating from Auburn with a bachelors in psychology
Just one course short of her masters in sociology
At 26, she received a gift from high-above heaven
Her son Anthony – he arrived in 1987
His leukemia came at 12, she kept a watchful will
Thirteen straight months at Wolfson Children’s, in Jacksonville
Though odds were slight and slim, somehow he did pull through
A mother’s care and love did all that it could do

Then by fate in 2003, where would she up and go?
Downtown St. Augustine at a familiar gazebo
A concert fundraiser dedicated to the Sons of Italy
Meeting this man who would soon become a sacred destiny
A fine dinner at a restaurant known as The Conch House
A first thought: “What a beautiful person inside and out”
It was so effortless, how much we got along
We watched the dolphins swim past us, all evening long
After two years of dating, she did not suspect a thing
My proposal in the dinner’s dessert – yes, a hidden ring
I was done with the lonely and agonizing search
We married in April ’05 at Trinity Episcopal Church

Honeymooning in New York, then a local B&B
Since no one could watch him, along came Anthony
Married six wonderful years before the angels called her home
A sudden tragic end, we all would be left alone
No doctor, drug company or lawyer would take a righteous stand
Collapsing into loss and pain that no one would understand
What is there to living, what is there to life?
A prayer and these memories of a beautiful mother and wife
Wonderful nights on Broadway, trips to New York City

Fanciful visits to the Coppola’s, shopping at Tiffany
It was well known – I was hers, and she was mine
Phantom of the Opera – her favorite show of all time
Red Lobster, Longhorn Steakhouse, Gordon Ramsay
The chef’s table at Victoria & Albert’s in a wonderful world of Disney
Monthly trips to the Magic Kingdom, we had our annual pass
The love for animals and Boston Terriers, four dogs and six cats
Teasing her about her scooter’s trouble in line on any ride
Into everything she somehow found a way to crash and collide
Health issues, a car accident – they did not keep her low
Until the gateway opened, and it was time for her to go

So what would I say, if I could, to this beautiful mother and wife?
Simply, “I love and miss you every single day of my life”
I’ll always admire her constant support as a real and faithful friend
Her unending love and companionship, true until the end
She was always there for me in all my difficult times
A generous gift to this world – ours, yours and mine
What everyone needs to hear and what everyone needs to know
She loved my two daughters as if they were her own
She dreamed that Anthony graduate and find his rightful way
She dreamed of being there on my daughter’s wedding day
Though some dreams come true and some left to the mystery
We may have to wait for the veil to reveal all destiny
Debra Lynn Leonardy – you were a dream that did come true
Leaving a legacy of love and a heart that still longs for you
Thank you – a wife’s care and love did all that it could do
I only wish that I could somehow comprehend why your spirit flew
I want to know what the angels saw and heard, and what they knew
What is left after all, at the end of this mysterious life?
Memories, longing … and a prayer for this beautiful mother and wife
The most beautiful mother and wife

 

THE LOVE IN-BETWEEN

A poem written by Jim Ellis, as expressed by his wife Jennifer Ellis, and inspired by Jennifer's father Roger Geronimo. Originally published in 2014 for Father's Day. In tribute.

A mind full of memories, a heart full of love
I’m so blessed when I look back, and I think of…

The countless gifts I received over the years
On the fields of bounty, the laughter … and the tears
Horizons full of wonder, abundance and hope
A stash of cash, in a legal-sized white envelope
Freakin’ BBQ’s with meat every damn Saturday
A home we approached by the longest driveway
Apache, Tumbleweed, a Cutie of a bird
There was Daisy and Bonnie, Ernie and Bert
We had Mighty, Sandy, Chango and Ming Toy
That very first car, Ford Tempo – oh boy!
Trips to Hershey, Disney, Mystic, Sandy Hook
The Griswald Inn in familiar Old Saybrook
Mama Leonis, The Fonda la Paloma – all these places
Limos to New York City, in all our glory and graces

A mind full of memories, a heart full of love
I’m so blessed when I look back, and I think of…

The steady foundation all of us could trust
Even with a broken dream – “Escondido or bust”
United Technology Norden Systems – a job for you
A family’s safety and shelter – you knew what to do
A PhD in economics, the Ronald Reagan years
Frank Sinatra singing, “It was a very good year”
Your family doggies – Diva, Georgia, Canio
Roger Geronimo singing, “Ol Sole Mio”

The girls on a theater stage with Bill Cosby
Playing the drums – was it more than a hobby?
A trip to Orlando, Harry Potter was so nice
The Marilyn Monroe doll I wanted all my life
Learning the power of “thank you” and “please”
You, the mighty doctor of the high c’s
The Tampa Opera, a beautiful symphony
A new boy, the enigma called Anthony
Yes, gifts given and then taken back, from above
…
Debbie’s everlasting support and love

A mind full of memories, a heart full of love
I’m so blessed when I look back, and I think of…



Hard times we got through when shadows came to rest
When misunderstanding and miscommunication were simply the test
Needs in conflict, needs at war, walls built so sadly
The chasm that was created between daughter and daddy
Yet, the memory of the comeback, open again the heart
We shared a brand-new memory, and a brand-new start
Reminding us of the eternal, the purest of sacred call
The love in-between – the most beautiful gift of all…
So much to be grateful for, so much to appreciate
Staying in contact, staying connected, staying up so late
Rekindling the bounty, the abundance, not an ounce of lack
Making it so easy to give … and so easy to give back

A mind full of memories, a heart full of love…

THE WINGS OF PEACE

Written for a musical, this one points to the grace that can rescue us from all that harms us ... in all aspects of what makes up our world.

We strike each other in secret attacks
Drawing lines in our minds
Is there any turning back?
Covert operations hiding our weapons of war
Lashing out, thrashing about
Unseen cuts, wounds and sores
The ego holds desires – what it finds, it will keep
Yet the heart only wants nothing more than our release
Escape – fly away on the silent wings of peace
Escape – fly away on the silent wings of peace

A punishment for violence, a bully pushing back
The face of all the war; the playground's sneak attack
An occupying nation – we take our bloody stand
But who can ever know, and who will understand
And who can ever offer a cry of heartfelt relief
Embracing all the tragedy, within the wings of peace
Embracing all the tragedy, within the wings of peace

The wings of peace
How long will we slumber in sleep?
As we pray to the Lord our souls to keep
As inner fires of judgment seem to never cease
Take me away on the lonely wings of peace
Take me away on the lonely wings of peace

Every enemy is shown to a brother cloaked in hiding
Every conflict shows opposing opinions colliding
Never finding a ground where the two can truly meet
Nor extending a trusting hand – to clasp, to hold, to greet
Lifting all of the world on the faithful wings of peace
Lifting all of the world on the faithful wings of peace

The wings of peace
How long will we slumber in sleep?
As we pray to the Lord our souls to keep
Though inner fires of judgment may never really cease
Take us all away on the mighty wings of peace
Take us all away on the mighty wings of peace
Take us all away on the mighty wings of peace

THEY WOULD NOT KNOW

 

On May 30, 2020, the city of La Mesa was overrun by rioters who attacked local businesses, burned down buildings and attempted to invade the police station there. Thankfully, the line was held. On the anniversary of this occasion, I thought of writing some prose, however since I was not there, all I could think of was "I would not know." That sounds like a good enough theme to me. #ThankYouBlue

 

They would not know.

They would not know what really happened on May 30, 2020, in La Mesa, California.

The day the police station was met with a growing crowd of upset citizens … and others bringing fire and rage and more.

The day two banks burned to the ground, and a nearby strip-mall was thrashed and trashed.

The day that officers had to take a stand, not just for a building, but for law and order itself … and for lives.   

They would not know. Not really.

“They” being the public, the multitude of citizens, the onlookers of TV news, social media and the like.

They would not know.

Of the countless incidents throughout the years, the months, the days, the hours.

Of wounded children and abused elders.

Of the car wrecks and gun fights and gangs.

Of the numerous offenders up to no good, lying without a flinch. 

Of the mayhem met so often on what would be most people’s worst day.

They would not know this could be a day shared, every single day … by the men and women on the beat.

They would not know. They would not be there.

Unless they were involved, they wouldn’t even care.

They would not know. Not on a regular basis.

Of the calls about lost boys and girls, trafficked in the night.  

Of the rescues.

Of the sprint dashes towards the danger.

Of the homeless helped, of the property protected, of the businesses bolstered.

Of the guardianship. 

Of the support that happens every silent moment there exits the presence of the badge, the blue, the force.

We would not know.

We would not know about so much … not the deeper service, not the mayhem, not what officers went through on May 30, 2020 in La Mesa, California.

And we need to know … just that.