What Does Family Mean? (Poem)

WHAT DOES FAMILY MEAN?
July 16, 1996
Richard O. Harris

Someone once asked me what family means.
I asked them how much time they had to listen.
Fried chicken, potatoes, and turnip greens
Were but a few of the things I planned to mention.

They thought I was joking and I did not understand.
So they asked me to please explain it a little more.
I replied that family was more than just a clan.
It was one place I knew I could find an open door.

With great effort, they over came their frustration,
And asked if I was enjoying these jokes.
I explained that family was an inspiration
And I wasn’t kidding, just ask any ones folks.

Then they said, Stop, let’s just start all over again,
Go back to the beginning and figure it out.
I stated family included ALL my kin.
I didn’t know what all the confusion was about.

All the little things that make a family
Are more than I can count times a hundred.
So, if you want me to say it quite frankly,
Family includes everyone that’s my kindred.

Those with whom I live and abide,
Those I love in every state,
All the members of my tribe,
Even those who show up late.

To me it all seems very clear
And to define it all real simply,
It’s all the people I hold dear
That I mean when I say family.

It’s all of those who have gone before
And all of those who will come tomorrow.
It is all of you and so much more,
In time of happiness and sorrow.

So to you I give my reply
Of what family means to me.
You are always there when I cry,
“I LOVE YOU ALL – MY FAMILY!”

Don't Ask, Don't Tell (Poem)

Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell
(First Published Poem 2000)
Richard O Harris

Through the years there are those who go unnoticed
Since if they’re noticed, they’re often crucified
They are thought by many to be unnatural
They are taught their feelings should be denied.

Don’t ask if they’re your brother or sister
Don’t ask if they’re someone you know
Don’t tell if they ever helped you
Don’t tell how they helped you grow.

Still they feel their feelings just as deeply
Each day as they search for happiness
And yes, their blood flows just as freely
When faced with life’s tests.

Don’t ask if they had someone to love them
Don’t ask how they have hurt having to hide
Don’t tell how many died serving their country
Don’t tell if they never had time for goodbye.

(Unpublished part of the above poem)

As they grow, they have no one to turn to
For fear those they care about will leave
So with those who are closest to them
They learn quick how to deceive.

Don’t ask how they feel about you
Don’t ask how they finally came to know
Don’t tell if you’re afraid of them
Don’t tell if you already know

Yet, when faced with all of life’s tests
To acknowledge their love is not allowed
For to show that love is abnormal
And makes them a danger somehow

Don’t ask if they had someone to love them
Don’t ask if they ever had cause to cry
Don’t tell how many loved their family
Don’t tell how they worked to provide.

Many serve in the Navy
Army, Air Force, and Marines
While those of us who love them
Must stay unheard, unseen.

Don’t ask if they ever felt lonely
Don’t ask if they have reason to cry
Don’t tell how many have gone missing
Don’t tell how many have had to die.

Grandma (Poem)

GRANDMA

1985
Richard O Harris

Well-loved, respected, honored, and cherished
Easily, happily, willingly she perished.
No longer there to help the idle time pass
When we’d stop for a minute – then had to dash.

Never again to feel her loving embrace
To see her warm, gentle, smiling face.
She was a true, loyal, devoted wife
Left with eight children early in life,

To mourn the death of her husband, brothers, and a few sons
Her place up in glory I believe she has won
She set an example that will be hard to meet
Her life like her house was clean, nice, and neat.

I’m sure there were times she stumbled and fell
But she always seemed to hold herself so well.
I know I’ll miss her as long as I live
And the love I had for her she’d want me to give

To someone else, whomever I may choose
A friend, a stranger, neither way will I loose.

The Beauty We Can Not See (Poem)

The Beauty We Can Not See
Richard O Harris

Oh, if I could describe,
The way I feel inside.
The words would be too beautiful to speak.
To strong for one who is so weak.

If I could show the love I’ve come to know,
Then others would have to cease to crow
About their vain and foolish cares.
And enjoy with me a love that dares.

If I could be for all of you,
What this is for all of me,
Then you would know how true
Is the beauty we cannot see.

HOW? (Poem)

HOW?

1986
Richard O Harris

How can I describe to you the things that have been mine?
The hurt, anger, sorrow, hatred all the time?
How can I tell you how this all has changed?
The secret to my happiness is something I can’t name.

It started with a man who was willing to die for me.
Willing to shed his blood and die in misery.
He gave his all and asked for nothing in return,
Except I be as a child – willing to learn.

It's Good (Poem)

It’s Good

1988
Richard O. Harris

It’s good to know that someone really cares for me.
It’s good to know laughter, good to feel free.
It’s good to know no one can take this from me.
It’s good to know the someone who cares is ME!

Heart To Heart (Poem)

Heart To Heart
Richard O. Harris

We have traveled the road apart.
We have traveled heart to heart.
Yet, we must now go our separate way.

Whatever, I may do and wherever I may roam,
Whenever I think of you, I will always think of home
And pray that we meet again someday.

If this should occur, you will hear me say,
“I loved you then, I love you now
And no matter where I’ve been,
I’ve been with you somehow.”

For you are another, yet you are a part.
And, in spite of all we’ve tried,
We are still heart to heart.

Miracles 02/20/07 (Writings)

To speak of miracles is not something I have yet done. Still they exist and occur frequently in my life. The overwhelming response I am receiving to my thoughts is proof of that!

One such miracle took place the very same day my mother died. At a follow up visit to my infectious disease doctor, I was informed they could no longer detect the HIV in my blood. This was the same doctor that had informed me less than a month before I was approaching AIDS status.

Talk of miracles, here was one indeed!!! When I received the news, I just started crying, confusing the doctor completely. As an answer to his questions, I explained my mom had died less than 12 hours ago.

He did not know what to say or do but I tried to explain. Though the lab work had all been done ahead of time, there was no doubt in my mind. My mama had put in a few words for me.

With many conflicting emotions, I left his office to rejoin my family and mourn my mother's passing. I could not wait to tell my siblings this news from my doctor. Some of them, I knew, would know it was mama too.

All the anxieties of who would say what to whom just left me that day. I began to act intuitively for the first time in a long time. As other relatives joined us and final details were done, I gave thanks to God's Son.

Even as I mourned my mother, and still do, I was at peace knowing what I knew. She had found her own joy at last. And whatever may come tomorrow, the past is still the past!!!

MAMA 02/10/07 (Poem)

MAMA by Richard O. Harris

As children mama taught us of God, and the love He had for everyone.

She taught us about heaven, where we'd be when our toils were done.

On 'rainy' days she taught us, said the angels were crying the most.

Someone had left this life to be with them, to join with the heavenly host.

So as mama lay dying, angels cried, her suffering done after many years.

And on the day my mama died, the angels rejoiced as I shed my tears.

I cried for the loss of one I loved and for joy as her pain found its' end.

The angels cried to welcome her above and cried to guide her soul to them.

And we cried, the angels and I, cried in sorrow, joy, and cried from love.

We cried all day the day mama died. We knew she would be welcome above.

I have seldom felt closer to God or felt the presence of His Host,

Rarely knew the joy of such a love, until this visit by Holy Ghost.

All of this happened the day my mama died.

And happens still when we meet, the angels and I.

In Your Hands 1992 (Songs)

"In Your Hands"

by

Richard O. Harris

In your hands, I place my life, Lord. In your hands, your will is mine.

In your hands, the world I leave, Lord. In your hands, my rest I find.

For there are times when I am angry. There are times I am so sad.

There are times, I can go no further. There are times I feel so bad.

At these times, you always guide me. At these times, you understand.

At these times, it gives me comfort, just to know I'm in your hands.

In your hands, I place my life, Lord. In your hands, your will is mine.

In your hands, the world I leave Lord. In your hands, my rest I find.

And there are times when I am happy. There are times I am not afraid.

There are times I can go so far, Lord. There are times I am so amazed.

At these times, you laugh right with me. At these times, I can see your plans.

At these times, it's good to know Lord--All I am is in your hands.

In your hands, I place my life Lord. In your hands, your will is mine.

In your hands, the world I leave Lord. In your hands, my rest I find.

There are times I grow so weary. There are times I hate so much.

There are times I feel so lonely. There are times I need your touch.

At these times, you forgive me. At these times, you help me stand.

At these times, I may forget, Lord --- I am still in your hands.

In your hands, I place my life, Lord. In your hands, your will is mine.

In your hands, the world I leave Lord. In your hands, my rest I find.

There are times when I am grateful. There are times my cup o'er flows.

There are times I'm sure you know, Lord -- times when your love shows.

At these times, I am humbled. At these times, I know you can.

At these times, I ask you only -- Keep me always in your hands.

In your hands, I place my life, Lord. In your hands, your will is mine.

In your hands, the world I leave, Lord. In your hands, my rest I find.

The Prisoner of the Lord 02/15/07 (Writings)

The prisoner of the Lord…Ephesians 4:1
By
Richard Owens Harris

It seems unfathomable to me now but it has been almost a week since I got the call my mother had died 02/08/07. Though her illness was a long and painful one for her and the rest of us, her final loss is powerfully sorrowing. Fortunately, as my siblings and other family came together, the anxieties I had about this gathering did not bear fruit.
Now, within the space of a month, I have been faced with the loss of affection from my partner and my mother to differing circumstances. It overwhelms me at times to attempt to accept and understand the pattern of life on life’s terms. Notwithstanding the health issues I face daily, my struggles seem to be compounded and I remain powerless to act even if I could determine what action to take.
I find my self-struggling with my own vanity and all that it has cost me. The hope for a happier future, the trust I placed in others to help reach that future, and the sheer improbability that future will now ever occur keep me depressed but seeking answers. My answers most likely will be that I have hoped in the face of hopelessness and continued to believe even when I knew my beliefs were not factual.
These are my own demons that only I can face and conquer. However, it is with greater difficulty I face each day, as I no longer know what to hope for or believe in. I have not given over completely to despair but do know I am no longer confident I can continue facing the hurdles each day brings.
I have examined my own thoughts and feelings ad nausea until I have become exhausted by the results. I hope still that I will find more happiness in my future yet, for now at least, have to settle for that “peace that passes understanding” since that is all that is left me for today. Yes, I have peace even in the face of these vicissitudes which is a gift my parents imbued me with many years ago.
It is with great difficulty I fight the urge to just give up and stop trying. Who knows, perhaps that is what I am supposed to do. For now, today, this moment, “I surrender all”.

As I Die Living 02/03/07 (Writings)

As I Die Living
Richard Owens Harris

About six years ago, my doctor informed me I was infected with HIV, the virus that leads to AIDS. Fortunately, it was an early detection but, nevertheless, filled me with great apprehension and dread. My first task was to inform my immediate family as I had been assisting in the care of my completely invalid mother including bathing, dressing, feeding, and administering her insulin injections. This I did immediately and was met with multiple responses. Of course, having five brothers and two sisters with different levels of understanding the disease was a major factor in those responses.
Most of them assumed, because I was gay, I had become infected through sexual contact. However, my second task had been to inform the few sexual contacts I had been involved with, including my partner of fifteen years at the time. The results of these testing showed none of my sexual contacts to be infected and that left only one source of possible exposure, my job as an HIV/AIDS Project Manager.
This job included counseling, partner notification, case management, and testing of high-risk individuals of all ages. The testing, at that time, was done through blood drawing and lab analysis of that blood. I can only believe my ten year exposure led up to my infection through a needle-stick injury or some other type of infected blood exposure. Whatever the source, the fact remained I was infected and it was not going away.
There is a belief system that promotes the idea that God, or a higher power if you will, sets events in place in our lives to prepare us for the future trials we will face. I do not know if this is factual but do know my experience and knowledge of this disease has been a two edged sword in many ways. While it allows me to understand and communicate with my doctors more easily, I still face the knowledge of where it ultimately leads.
Having assisted others to the point of death from opportunistic infections and educated many more, including myself, on the possible outcomes from an infection, I am also pretty aware of what my most likely future holds in store. That future appears to be approaching much quicker than I anticipated.
My partner’s initial reaction, while understandable, was very disheartening for both of us I believe. Added to this, about a month or two later, we discovered he had prostrate cancer which became a much more immediate concern. With agonizing fear on my part and what I assume was devastating decisions on his part he elected to have surgery. The surgery proved effective in removing the cancer and we began the process of healing both physically and emotionally from these double disasters.
Now, six years after my initial infection, I no longer assist with my mother’s care out of fear of passing the virus to her. My relations with my siblings, except for my two sisters, are tenuous at best and in some cases I have been informed of my eternal damnation. My two sisters do their best to empathize and understand but my infection is another one of those subjects, like my being gay, that is never discussed between us face to face which has been the way of my family throughout my life.
Of course, I must own my complicity in this since I participate in their desire to remain silent by not prompting such discussions my self. I have put in place my will, my health care surrogates, and my choice of disposal. All of which I discussed briefly and gave copies of to my sisters but that has been the depth and breadth of our conversations.
My partner and my live in companion have also been informed of these wishes as they were the ones I asked to carry them out. Yet, here too, we do not discuss the issues other than an occasional remark or look of concern about my health and medications. In this too I must own my complicity since I feel compelled not to worry them with my own fears and demons.
Strangely enough, as I feel and experience the weakening of my health and body, I find my self more consistently concerned with daily stressors of debt and financial obligation. I have attempted to do what I can to alleviate those concerns by asking for assistance and accepting what I can with dignity. However, my partner’s offer to pay for my medications I felt necessary to turn down because it seemed a charity offered through pity that gave me no opportunity to maintain my own self-respect from my perspective.
On New Year’s Day, my partner of twenty-one years now, informed me he no longer wished to have sex for reasons of his own but still wanted to maintain the relationship somehow. While this pains me beyond belief, I can only respect his reasons and support the man I have and will always love any way I can. It is a decision only he can make and does not lessen my love for him.
In truth, I must admit I had expected such a choice many years before and even more so recently. Nonetheless, expectation and anticipation cannot lessen the pain of realization (if that makes any sense). Not to minimize the pain, I know intellectually it is life on life’s terms but emotionally battle with my hurt daily as I feel one more source of hope and help slip away.
My live in companion is a constant source of help during illness but his fears appear to be mostly for his welfare if I should become disabled or die. It is natural for him to feel all of this but in many ways he is more dependent on me than I on him. In truth, I often wonder how long it will be before his fears cause him to leave out of an instinct for self-preservation.
I know this is a grim picture I am painting and am not trying to lay blame or elicit sympathy (well maybe a little). I just feel so alone and surrounded on all sides by concerns from which I have no defense or relief. These are the daily demons I battle with even as I present to the world my earnest trust in God’s grace.

Good has come from all of this in many ways that are difficult for me to explain. I have experienced a re-affirmation of my beliefs in mercy, grace, and love. I also believe I have begun to understand more clearly the meaning of such things.
My mother, my siblings, my partner, and my live in companion I love now more deeply than before. That love is as much for my perception of their shortcomings as for their heroic attempts and actions toward me. Each of them has, in his/her own way, confirmed their love for me as well as their concern for my well-being.
Along with these efforts, they have shown me the true face of God, as I understand him, to be multi-faceted and unlimited in his point of view toward me. I feel my self beginning to preach a little here but will continue on. It is only through words I can best communicate as that is one gift I have always had.
I now understand more clearly why, in the beginning, was the Word and Word was God. How powerful words are to all of us. I truly believe words have power both to kill and to heal.
It is my hope my words, these words, will help heal and perhaps soften even the most hardened hearts. I know how egotistical this seems but I also know I come from a long line of healers that believed in the power of words. It is with this in mind that I write and perhaps it is to heal my self most of all I hope to accomplish.
My life, though not without its trials, has been one of rich and varied experiences that prove there is indeed victory over death. Though at times I did not and still in some ways do not grasp the full depth of these experiences, I have not only learned to survive I learned to live!!! What a victory indeed!!!
The details of my experiences would most likely seem arbitrary and meaningless to most while appearing untrue to the other participants, as their perspectives were naturally different. In truth, I have come to realize memory is a fickle thing and often distorts or even rewrites those experiences. The multi-faceted interpretations of each single event amazes me even now and reminds me of the biblical verse “that no prophecy of the scripture is of any private interpretation. 2nd Peter 1:20”
Yes, I seek solace in words ancient with meaning written by those with varying perspectives based on their own life experiences. And not solace in just ancient words, but the interpretation of those words from one language to another. So even I have become “… the prisoner of the Lord…Ephesians 4:1”
I cannot claim to know how these words may affect those who read them. I can only claim they are the best I have to try to explain my perspective. I am filled to overflowing with love, dread, hope, fear, and many other conflicts.
Perhaps I will write more before the final breath leaves my body, perhaps not. Whichever is the case, I have found some comfort from expelling these words from my thoughts by this exercise. If any find fault with that, so be it.