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The Midlife Second Wife ™

~ The Real and True Adventures of Remarriage at Life's Midpoint

The Midlife Second Wife ™

Category Archives: The Life Poetic

Poetry by Marci Rich

Reflections (with Feathers) on my Valentine’s 60th Birthday

12 Wednesday Feb 2014

Posted by themidlifesecondwife in Love, Midpoints, Relationships and Family Life, Remarriage, Second Weddings, The Life Poetic, Transitions

≈ 21 Comments

Tags

Birthdays, Emily Dickinson, Love, Relationships, second marriages, Valentine's Day

©iStock.com/studioimagen

©iStock.com/studioimagen

When my husband and I were falling in love and committing ourselves to coupledom, I said to him, in all seriousness, “I want decades with you.” That was more than four years ago, when he was 55, and I was 53. It felt like a tall order; his mother died at 62, my father at 47. Then there was the fact that I’d had “a mild case of cancer,” undergoing surgery and radioactive iodine treatment for thyroid cancer. At the time of our courtship, however, I was in fine health, and so was John. (As of this writing we still are, knock wood.) This being the case, I am as hopeful for our future now as I was when we were betrothed. (Great word, isn’t it?) I’m reminded of Emily Dickinson’s great poetic line: “Hope is the thing with feathers.” My husband and I have been flying together for half a decade. I want to soar many more miles with him.

John turns 60 on Thursday, February 13. There’s something about crossing the threshold into a new decade that gives one pause; mid-lifers especially, I think, tend toward reflection here, especially if they’re in a second relationship. We have fewer mile markers in front of us, and we know that one of them will be fateful. All John or I can do is live each day with love—as if every day is Valentine’s Day, as, indeed, it will be the morning after his birthday.

Besides hosting Valentine’s Day, the 14th is a significant date for us because we met on the 14th of June. For that reason, when we decided to marry, we chose August 14 as our wedding day. The middle of February is, you might say, a peak time on our calendar, what with his birthday, V-Day, and, this year, our 56-month anniversary. But this doesn’t necessarily mean it’s black-tie-and-gown party time. Last year, for example, movers in Richmond were loading a truck with our belongings. This year, as I write this, I’m still in a leg cast.

As Connie Schultz says, life happens. John and I might not be able to go out and paint the town Cupid red, but by spreading out the significance of our love over 365 days—that is, by not taking one another for granted—each day feels more valuable, more treasured. Being mindful of our love each day helps us stack the deck. We might have only half a decade on our scorecard, but if we care for each other, are kind to each other, and express our love in ways minuscule as well as magnificent—every single day—it will seem as though we really are getting more decades than the calendar suggests. Some might call this magical thinking. I call it hoping, with feathers.

Happy 60th birthday, my love. And Happy Valentine’s Day, too. I wish you (and me, for you) good health. Decades of it.

“Hope” is the thing with feathers – (314)

By Emily Dickinson

“Hope” is the thing with feathers –
That perches in the soul –
And sings the tune without the words –
And never stops – at all –

And sweetest – in the Gale – is heard –
And sore must be the storm –
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm –

I’ve heard it in the chillest land –
And on the strangest Sea –
Yet – never – in Extremity,
It asked a crumb – of me.

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Greetings, Midlife Friends!

17 Tuesday Dec 2013

Posted by themidlifesecondwife in Humor Me, Special Events, The Life Poetic

≈ 17 Comments

Tags

bloggers, boomers, Christmas and holiday season, midlife, writers

HollyDecember is here, and so time again
For season’s greetings to fine blogger friends.
A new group in town—this is no canard—
Broke ground along Midlife Boulevard.

With style and wit (but no fountain pen),
On bandwidth they ply their acumen.
For editors Mesdames Greenthal and Parris,
I bestow a day off with Bueller, Ferris.

Oh, the places they’ll go! The things they will see!
As they ride alongside that blonde, Shelley Z.
There to help them avoid a hazardous turn
Are Vikki Claflin and Jessica Bern.

May they shop ‘til they drop on Avenue Worth
(Laughing heartily with these ladies of mirth:
Tracy Beckerman, Jane Emaus, Barb Best, Tammy Bleck)
Let’s all end the night at a fun discotheque!

All roads lead to Rome (or New York or Boston),
So let’s give some plane tickets to Karen Austin.
When she arrives she’ll have fun pallin’
With Laurel Regan and Sandra Sallin.

Don’t look now (I said please don’t look)
But huddled together in a quiet nook,
And dining intime in this posh galleria,
Are Lisa Carpenter and Andy Garcia.

Oh my, Grandma! I best be brief
So as not to disturb your aperitif.
Far be it from me to annoy and to pester.
I’ll just go sit by my friend Cathy Chester.

We’ve much shopping to do, anyhow, anyway,
For Princess Rosebud and Judy Rothman Rofé.
Seashells for one, madeleines for the other.
For Risa Nye, a song sung by Usher.

What shall we buy Evelyn Kalinosky?
(And what shall we rhyme? Why, I know! Brioschi!)
May Evelyn never encounter distress.
But instead whirl around in a Furstenberg dress!

Here is my gift for the writer Jane Gassner:
A peck on the check from the actor Ed Asner,
May he star in a screenplay written by Jane,
Produced by our own Kim Jorgensen Gane.

And while we’re back on the subject of actors,
Let us take time to note an important factor:
Before there is acting there must be the word.
Actors are not just seen, they must also be heard.

So for blogger Mary Anne Tuggle Payne,
I’ve ordered a snuggle from Eddie Redmayne.
And a prayer for Barbara Hannah Grufferman,
That she’ll not find herself Waiting for Guffman.

But adieu, Hollywood, because we’ve a lotta
Travelin’ to do with Mindy Klapper Trotta.
We’ll head to Europe, but first to Great Britain
Come along, Rosalind Warren and Helene Cohen Bludman!

At Harrod’s we’ll purchase some brilliant bling
For Felice Shapiro and Shelley Emling.
For Ellen Dolgen, great closets of shoes.
Your usual suspects: Manolos and Choos.)

When dining in London, rare Beef Wellington
For Julie Phelps and Mary Dell Harrington.
In Italy we can’t forget the other Lisas—
Heffernan, Flowers, and Froman—we’ll order you pizzas!

Here’s haute couture from Paris
For Estelle Sobel Erasmus,
And Belgium chocolate, rich and dark,
for our idol, Lois Alter Mark.

P.K. Fields says that our time is now,
So to her a gold Rolex—oh golly! Oh wow!
Oh WHOA! When what do my wondering eyes appear,
Darryle Pollack and Lynn Forbes—they’re here!

They’re here! Their network’s a hit. (Have you seen it?)
Great chatter, great topics. (Proud to have been on it.)
To this dynamic duo we bestow
Two life-size Golden Globes.

Hard to carry around, but hey, what the hay?
YOLO, you know? Or so they say.
For the gentle and kind Lori Lavender Luz,
We’ve booked passage on a Viking River Cruise.

For intrepid traveler Carol Cassara,
An exquisitely jeweled ruby tiara.
And for Judy Krell Freedman and Sheryl Kraft,
A grand yacht apiece, complete with life rafts.

For the writer with the wondrous surname—
Barbara Storey—an inextinguishable flame.
And to she who won’t lean-in—Julie Danis—
I wish joy in her new-found work-and-life balance.

To all of the bloggers and writers called here,
I send you glad tidings and eggnog and cheer!
To those I forgot, I hope you’ll forgive
The poetic lapse in my narrative.

We’ll do this again in two thousand fourteen,
So I’ll see you back here midst the red and the green.
And my readers and followers, you know who you are,
Peace, love, and joy on your own boulevard.

To read the holiday poem from 2012, click here.

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Greetings, GenFab Friends!

20 Thursday Dec 2012

Posted by themidlifesecondwife in Humor Me, Indulgences, Special Events, The Life Poetic

≈ 59 Comments

Tags

blogging, GenFab, Holidays, Humor, Midlife Bloggers, Poetry, writing

MorgueFile photo

MorgueFile photo

In the holiday season, in days of yore,
Scribe Roger Angell his feelings did pour.
On New Yorker’s back pages, right at the end,
Were yuletide wishes he called ‘Greetings, friends!’

To bold-faced names and celebs aplenty,
Angell rhymed his tidings in couplets steady.
And so it is in that spirit this year,
I do the same, so all lend an ear!

To the bloggers I read who are known as GenFab
(They’ve the gift of the pen and the gift of the gab),
I fill stockings chock-full of dreamings galore
That start at the ceiling and stream to the floor.

To the founding trio—Greenthal, Jeffreys, and Parris—
I send jewels and baubles befitting an heiress.
To the duo known widely as Grown and Flown—
I give pricey and fragrant eau de cologne.

There are other pairs, like the sisters Irving
So to Karen and Wendy I present two gold rings.
And to Maryl and Caryl of Second Lives Club,
Let’s create a great feast; end it with syllabub!

But what is that noise? That great big BOOM-BOOM?
It’s the BOOMBox Network and they’re working the room!
To Bradshaw and Kovacs and Van Petegem,
I send iPhones with apps for ad stratagems.

And off at HuffPost where bloggers do frolic,
There’s Lois Alter Mark and Darryle Pollack!
And here to the left is Nancy Wurtzel,
With Julie Danis and Donna Highfill!

Oh what shall we give HP writers like these—
So smart and so quick as to be the bees knees?
A home by the sea to vacation in Spain,
And designer umbrellas in case it should rain.

But look over there, on the Next Avenue—
It’s Linda Bernstein! Hello! Bienvenue!
What would be right for this media maven?
We’ll deed her a Caribbean tax-free haven.

And while on the topic of real estate,
A house for N. Hill, with a very grand gate.
Recreational grounds for Ms. Jean Parks.
For PK Fields—all the Ozarks.

We cannot neglect Kay Lynn Akers,
To her we give mansions in Heights known as Shaker.
And lest we forget Robin Meadow Dinsmore
Here are keys to a cottage by the seashore.

To the Wolf called Big Little, a red riding hood.
And to Wolff, Linda Maltz, some Norwegian wood.
For Lisa Carpenter, the tools that she needs,
And for Nina Knox, some gold shiny beads.

There’s no therapy quite like retail,
So a flagship store goes to Beverly Diehl.
And Debi Aronson Pfitzenmaier,
Gets a personal shopper and personal buyer.

Still have shopping to do? Go and see Joy Weese Moll.
She’s getting a high-end luxury mall.
It’s all quite posh and there’s never a crowd
There’s even a spa for Connie McLeod.

For Sarah Chesko and Cathy Chester,
A titan of Wall Street to have as investor.
And Jacqueline Tierney De Muro
Gets an ivory inlaid mahogany bureau.

Think life is Better After 50?
Then tell Felice Shapiro that you think she’s nifty.
And please don’t forget Mindy Klapper Trotta—
Bake them a cheesecake made with ricotta.

Save some for their own Ronna Benjamin,
(Or would she like boots made out of snakeskin?)
For Molly Campbell and Lib Aubuchon,
We give each a chair with a plush ottoman.

For Barbara Albright and Jo Heroux,
We’ll throw a big shindig with great barbecue.
To Haralee Weintraub and Janie Emaus,
Ad-free Words With Friends that aren’t blasphemous.

On Jennifer Comet, on Wagner, on Blitzen!
On Amy Noggle, on Ruhlin—on Vixen!
Open your socks by the chimney with care—
They contain fine wine and imported Gruyère.

To cineastes Flournoy and Bradley Colleary,
We give options and meetings with Dennis Leary.
Helene Cohen Bludman gets signed first editions.
Jessica Bern gets successful auditions.

A collection of art for Ann Dunnewold.
For Lori Jo Vest, in case she gets cold,
A hat and a scarf and a coat of faux mink
For Maddie Kertay,
An ice-skating rink.

Who would like chocolate truffles from Belgium?
Lynn Forbes, Susan Williams, Walker Thornton—come get ‘em!
Denise Danches Fisher shall have priceless etchings.
Mary Anne Tuggle Payne gets Paul Klee’s sketchings.

For Midlife Bloggers’ Jane Gassner
A leather portfolio with jeweled fasteners.
For Laura Lee Carter, midlife crisis guru,
An all-expense paid trip to Peru.

To the spiritual Lori Lavender Luz
A new yoga wardrobe. Why? Just because!
And to Cheryl Pallant, the dancer so rare,
A trip back in time to partner Astaire.

Caryn Payzant, Kim Phillips, and Jodi Okun
Get to boogie with Springsteen and sing “Born to Run.”
To Judy Krell Freedman and Pauline Gaines,
Strands of fine diamonds on silvery chains.

To Patricia Patton and Patricia Petro,
Unlimited flights in and out of Heathrow.
She’s far too polite to ask, “Whatcha bring us?”
She was raised right, Bonnie Petrie Dingus.

To her we bequeath a wishing well.
And another just like it to Sara Cornell.
Florinda Lantos Pendley Vasquez
Gets whatever she wants. Sez who? I sez!

Daphne Palmer Romero, what do you say
To a comedy session with Tina Fey?
Lori Ann Lothian of Elephant Journal
Gets a date with a five-star general or colonel.

To Tammy Gordon and Missy Lawler:
A fully equipped fishing trawler.
Complete with a crew (or at least a sailor)
To teach nautical stuff to Karen Williams Taylor.

To Susan Keats and Cindi Moomettes,
Platinum combs and ruby barrettes.
To Sweeties Teamer Wendy Limauge,
Season Patriots tickets, with seats in the loge.

A language course for Ellen Dolgen
Taught by a bona fide Parisienne.
And last but not least, exotic ports of call
To Karen Espensen Sandoval.

My fear is I might have left someone off,
If your name’s not been spotted, well, tell me off!
It’s hard to keep track of so many bloggers,
There are more of them than Alaskan loggers!

For the writers I know and the ones I’ve not met
There are musical duos and string quartets.
And to readers of mine who have followed me here,
Thank you for indulging my GenFab cheer.

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Still Life With Bone Scan

27 Sunday Nov 2011

Posted by themidlifesecondwife in The Life Poetic

≈ 8 Comments

Tags

Illness, Life, Poetry

Négatif

Image via Wikipedia

Still Life with Bone Scan

She is smaller than
before.
Tomorrow
she’ll be smaller still,
aging into herself,
erasing her self.

The doctor’s
at the door,
in his hands, an analog
of her.
It’s smaller still—
this negative image,
this paper doll—
her skull coyly tilted
to one side, defenseless,
her arms stretched wide.

Hiding, the tumor—
benign but not benevolent—
in what he called
“a symbiotic kinship
with the brain.”

How far removed, this
milky miniature, this flattened
pattern of a mother?
How far removed
from she who strode
through rooms in
Sicilian joy or aggravation,

who posed on the DeSoto’s hood—
perfectly manicured and coiffed—
an elegant arm draped
over my father’s shoulder,
smiling at the camera?

Sorrowful mother,
small amid the chalky sheets,
(the wires translating
each heartbeat onto a screen,
yet another analog)

the fact of her life
as lines on a graph.

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The Instant

13 Sunday Nov 2011

Posted by themidlifesecondwife in The Life Poetic

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Poems, Poetry, writing

MorgueFile Image

Some of you know that I began my writing life as a poet. It occurs to me that a section featuring some of my poetry might be a nice addition to the blog, so today I bring you The Life Poetic.

Hope that you’ll find it to be a nice addition, too. Any previously published poems of mine will be indicated as such, and will include the appropriate credits. As it happens, today’s poem is making its debut here on The Midlife Second Wife.

The Instant

Remind me to remember
Remind me not to
Don’t forget
The light is on
Don’t forget
To turn the light off
We must bank the light
For when
It will be dark when
We most need it
light

It will be dark—
The darkness we know
Or the darkness we don’t know

Let’s just keep standing
Here, beneath the full-moon light
Breathing our vivid breath
Let’s just keep standing
Your hand in my hand
In your hand

How lovely not to know
Where I begin and you end.

—Marci Rich

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