Tag: holiday

The Stanzas of Fatherhood

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From my daddy
(his granddaddy),
my son learned
that making space in his life to
pursue what captivates him
doesn’t make him selfish,
but instead makes him a better person
in every area of his life.
He learned resourcefulness, and
that it’s quite possible to make a good living
doing what you love.
He learned to honor the past.
contribute to your community,
the importance of family.
He learned roots.


From my father-in-law
(his paternal granddaddy)
my son learned perseverance, tenacity,
a can-do/will-do/just-you-watch-me attitude.
He learned that nothing – and I mean nothing –
can take you down unless you let it.


From my husband
(his daddy),
my son learned loyalty,
fiscal responsibility,
logical thinking.
He learned to work hard enough
to have an impressive career,
but never so hard as to
miss out on family time and happenings.
He learned how to fix things,
how to plan for the future
how to treat women
– as well as other men – with respect.
He learned self-reliance and confidence.
He learned consideration for self and  others
and where to draw the line
to avoid abdication of self
which does nobody any good.
From his daddy,
my son learned humility, patience,
generosity and kindness.
He learned how to be a good husband
and a good dad.


My son, Kipp, is now a daddy himself,
and through him,
his son (my grandson),
will learn all the things
passed down through his
daddy’s male ancestors.
He will learn self reliance and kindness
confidence and loyalty
dependability and patience.
He will learn to tell the truth
even when it hurts,
(and, for purposes of entertaining,
how to lie convincingly).
(Wait – that might come from the maternal side of the table.)
He will learn love and curiosity
humor and responsibility
accountability and gratitude.
He will learn to
delight in the success of others
as much as he delights in his own.
He will learn how to make his family proud,
how to be a contributing member of society,
how to take good care of himself and others.
He will learn how to be A Good Man
and a Good Father.

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This is what good fathers do, you know:
they take the best of their forefathers
and pass it on,
setting aside the inevitable not-so-good stuff
to leave it on the side of the road.
And in doing that, good fathers raise good men
who raise good men,
who raise good men,
making the world better
for men and women, boys and girls
for all of us.


Happy Father’s Day, y’all.

Happy Fourth of July




It was a night of firsts for me:


First time I sat so close to the fireworks that I needed to take cover a couple of times.


First time I got a crick in my neck from watching the fireworks.


First time I’ve worn a sweatsuit on the Fourth of July . . . and still been chilly.


Today I declare my independence from
writer’s block;
from worrying my pretty little head about other people’s opinion of me;
and from sharing any part of my life with people who behave more like ticks than humans.

And you – who or what do you declare your independence from?
You don’t have to make your answer public, just do it
cause it’s time.

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earlier tonight i was listening to some special christmas music, and because you don’t exactly need x-ray vision to know what’s going on in my life, i posted on facebook: “Listening to recordings of my daughter Alison Chambers singing Christmas carols and marveling at the beautiful voice that never fails to wrench tears from my heart.”

i’ve never done this before, so bear with me as i try to treat you to what i was listening to. if all goes according to plan, you just click (because i’m learning new marketable skills here, you’ll need to click on the song, be transported to another screen, then click on the song again. i have no idea why.) (and the strike-thru’s? i have no idea. just ignore them.), listen, enjoy. (tears optional.)

Alison sings Ave Maria

Alison sings Away in a Manager

Alison sings Gesu Bambino

Alison sings O Holy Night

Alison sings Un Flambeau

and my all time favorite, the one that brings me to the brink every time, the one we all joined in to sing together as the recessional at daddy’s funeral . . .

Silent Night

tis the season for ho-ho-hospitality


when my brother called from afghanistan this morning, we pulled off the picturesque backroad to talk rather than risk losing cell phone coverage and playing a really, really, really long distance game of telephone tag. mountains wrapped around us, brown leaves danced to the tune of wind blown by bare trees, and right there just a few feet away, water poured from a small pipe, splashing on a rock before freezing on the ground.

the hand painted sign above the re-routed waterfall read: “Please help yourself to our water . . . but Please don’t litter.”


now that’s what i call hospitality.

southern hospitality, since we’re in nc, y’all.

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Hey, Sugar! I'm Jeanne Hewell-Chambers: writer ~ stitcher ~ storyteller ~ one-woman performer ~ creator & founder of The 70273 Project, and I'm mighty glad you're here. Make yourself at home, and if you have any questions, just holler.

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