Friday, October 19, 2012

This should have been posted yesterday (the 18th) in honor of my dear friend of 20years, Amy Mobley-Fisher.  This was written for her, but she never had the chance to read it herself.  She passed away after a long, hard battle with breast cancer.  Her homegoing was October 12, 2010.  Yesterday was her birthday.  With love to Amy...
Our Story (Ode to Amy)

Melting into friends
Maturing into sisterhood
Through late nights of laughter
Dreams painted in poems...

Australia in the summer would be nice-
A flight to Rome
Anything but home
Adventures express themselves
In sweet walks,
Long Talks
The wisdom of a reflective spirit.

Life takes off like the rapids
Often crashing us into the rocks
Only peeled off by the friendship
Began in bobby socks

So sweet, so simple
So yesterday,
So long ago...
The depth of our connection
Wavering, growing, changing
Weaving in and out of life
An enlisted loved one,
Caring by choice.
Listening, growing
Creating a voice.


Sweet fellowship
Meek Leadership

Eternal imprints
On this simple soul.

-Melissa Robbins Pyle

Friday, April 13, 2012

Song of the Sleep Sirens

I was trying to crawl out of bed early this morning and this is what starting sizzling in my head, so I got up and composed...I am pretty sure most of you can relate.  I probably need to do a little bit of editing on this, but I thought it was fun, so enjoy!

Song of the Sleep Sirens

There are legends,
from the days of old.
Legends from the sea,
Legends that the sailors told
which capture you and me.
Of beauty that surpassed
all who walked on land
their voices, shrill with hypnotizing song,
but cursed with deadly hands.
The legend is now closed in book and pirate tale
but the ladies of the deep
have found a new home in our sleep.
At the haze of daylight they awake and sit along dream's edge-
between reality and sweet retreat
of coverlet and bed.
“A few more moments their voices beckon,
they will make you feel so well”
“But the time!” My conscious cries,
but I am paralyzed with song.
Sweet lullabies caress my soul
and bid me to sleep all morning long.
As I drift deeper into restful bliss,
my eyes begin to fight
If I do not leave this bed
 my day will not be right!
“But the day can wait a while longer.
You deserve your rest...”
They do not want to listen when my heart protest.
I'm weakened by their luring, their tempting me stay...
How can an extra 15 minutes really ruin my day?
Then suddenly salvation!
A ringing severs their grip,
No snooze, just alarm, stops me from the slip.
My day would waste away, a few hours more,
if I had listened to the sirens who live on Sandman's shore.

-Melissa Robbins Pyle

Wednesday, March 7, 2012

The “To” Step

Standing upright with wobbling knees, shaking nerves and a loss of balance, I move forward with resistance in my soul. I thought at this point in life, walking would be easy. Walking is that great moment in your history that your loved ones anticipate with trigger ready lenses. Somewhere along the way walking through life, even in a literal sense can present challenges you never dreamed would hold your feet to the pavement like hot tar. This is my experience, my experience in walking.
Walks have become the fundraisers of our time. There seems to be a walk almost any weekend of the year raising money for a good cause. Although a cancer survivor myself, I hadn't ever participated in a walk, that is until this fall, when my husband suggested we be apart of the team his employer was putting together for the local breast cancer walk. I quickly agreed when I found out it was exactly one year from the anniversary of my best friend's passing.  She had fought a long, honorable fight with breast cancer. I had secretly hoped it would be a healing experience for me and each step might make a mark on my spirit about the life experience she and I had shared. It was to be a time of contemplation and remembrance.
The Saturday arrived and with almost an hour drive to the walk, we left at dawn. Dreary eyed, I started to peel the banana I had grabbed as my “to go” breakfast. With each peel of the skin I was mentally transported to another early morning, but this time with her, my soul mate, my Amy. It was also October, but 15 years earlier. A cool Kentucky autumn wedding had been her dream and she was beaming in her dress in the church basement. I kept creeping up and around the stairs, awaiting the cue for the bride's entrance. I came back to her dressing room to find her mom gazing with love and satisfaction at her only daughter, adorned in youthful beauty.
The moment overtook me, watching her reflection in the mirror, but Amy would have no part in tearful admiration, she had a smile on her face and a half eaten banana in her hand. “This is my third one today, I love bananas...” Then she let out one of her charming laughs. A laugh I could pick out of a crowd and still replay in my mind almost daily. It could illuminate even the gloomiest ears...
“Are you okay?” asked a voice from the driver's seat, waking me from my reminiscent daydream. My husband, knowing the magnitude of the weekend, must have caught a glimpse of the warm tears bursting quietly from my eyes and down my cheeks. I assured him I was fine and finished the banana that had surprisingly sparked deep emotions that I had only rehearsed having while walking a 5K with a thousand other souls.
Arriving at the park, the chaos of bodies derailed my quiet contemplation. Once the walk began, I refocused on my intent, to reflect on life with Amy. I laughed to myself as I felt the pavement under my shoes. The hard concrete pressing the sole of my foot while rough reality pressed my soul. Walking had been the highlight of my afternoon when we first befriended each other. Every afternoon we would walk down the sidewalk after school. We'd share stories and Amy would listen with great encouragement to my latest poetic achievement. Each step moved us forward, although less than a year after our friendship blossomed my steps took me through a dark valley of bone cancer. She never left my path, she walked beside me and we both grew stronger.
As my family and I continued our walk in the warm, Florida sun, our pace would start to slow. I would drag myself and family by a small burst of energy- telling them, “If you slow down, you get tired!”.  Just like the walk, had Amy and I slowed we would have tired of our circumstances. Finally, hearing her tell me she was diagnosed with cancer was a full circle moment of life. She had walked me through chemo, hair loss, emotional distressing moments, now it was my turn. Time and circumstance had moved us to geographical distances, but I wanted to repay my friend with support, although I always felt that I might fall short of the level of devotion she had set years before.
Years of walking toward decisions, walking to hear results, walking to accomplishments or mistakes paved the story of our lives. These are just some of the things that paved my story with Amy. Working through growing pains, loving across miles, being the person who said, “it's time” as she took her life changing walk down an aisle towards the man she loved, on that October day in Kentucky. This among other steps in time has melted into my soul as one of the most honorable walks of my life. This step was strangely trumped last October when I was asked to represent Amy's friends and speak some final thoughts at her funeral.
   Of all the walks that have caused me to feel weak, that one was the most debilitating. I read the order of service, knowing my turn to speak was quickly approaching, I clutched the notes in my hand, breathed deeply, took the first step out into the aisle-there was no turning back. I spoke with as much strength as I could gather from the prayers I knew had been prayed for peace in our hearts. Sharing a poem that I had written to honor Amy just a week before (at the time I wrote it I hadn't dreamed she would never read it, she walked out of this life the very next day) didn't seem sufficient to sum up a life, nothing ever does. It was something that summed up who we were as people, as friends, as women.  What an honor to have walked a million steps with her as a friend. It is an honor we all carry as we walk along side those we love.
As we rounded the last corner of our charity walk, I couldn't help but make continued parallels to life. I grabbed the hand of my faithful husband of 16 years and looked at our two, at this point, tired teenage children. They had supported me through this very tangible walk, but they also work to strengthen me through this intangible walk of life. I found happiness in the truth that I am walking through life, on hard ground, soft soil and everything in between with more memories to come; all the while carrying with me the memories of those who have walked beside me in the past, pouring themselves into my life. These loved ones have a hand in molding us into who we are and make our lives a very rich adventure. Walk on, sweet Amy!

-Melissa Pyle

Sit Still and Be Quiet!

Two things children are known for being unable to do: wait patiently and be silent.   Those two things are nearly impossible for childr...