Wind Beneath My Wings #Monday Musical Memories

Last Friday, October 18th, my late husband Bill would have been 76 years old. He was my hero, the wind beneath my wings. If not for him, I might not have quit my day job and started writing full-time. Without his love, encouragement, and feedback, I might not have published my first two books. Without his inspiration, I might not have five books under my belt with a sixth on the way. He made me who I am today.

After his strokes, I often sang him this song. He always cried when I got to the part about walking a step behind. That was how we always walked together before the strokes, so my white cane wouldn’t hit him, as I arced it back and forth along the sidewalk. He placed one hand on my shoulder and the other on his support cane. You can read more of our story in My Ideal Partner: How I Met, Married, and Cared for the Man I Loved Despite Debilitating Odds.

Now, six years after his passing, I still can’t sing this song without losing it. I’ve tried, but I can’t do it justice, at least not yet. So, I’ve given Bette Midler the honor of performing it for us today.

 

 

New! The Red Dress

Copyright July 2019 by DLD Books

Front cover contains: young, dark-haired woman in red dress holding flowers

When Eve went to her high school senior prom, she wore a red dress that her mother had made for her. That night, after dancing with the boy of her dreams, she caught him in the act with her best friend. Months later, Eve, a freshman in college, is bullied into giving the dress to her roommate. After her mother finds out, their relationship is never the same again.

Twenty-five years later, Eve, a bestselling author, is happily married with three children. Although her mother suffers from dementia, she still remembers, and Eve still harbors the guilt for giving the dress away. When she receives a Facebook friend request from her old college roommate and an invitation to her twenty-five-year high school class reunion, then meets her former best friend by chance, she must confront the past in order to face the future.

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WebsiteImage contains: Abbie, smiling.

To Ana At Eighteen

Image contains: me, smiling.I wrote the following poem for my niece in Florida who is celebrating her eighteenth birthday this month. You can click below to hear me read it. The title poem in my collection, That’s Life, is also dedicated to her.

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Image contains: Ana, smiling, indoor graphic.

TO ANA AT EIGHTEEN

 

 

At thirteen, all you wanted to do

was go to the beach or mall with friends.

When your aunt from Wyoming visited at Christmas,

you reluctantly accompanied the family

to a performance of The Nutcracker.

 

Now you’re eighteen.

You still like to hang out with friends,

but you have more important things to think about:

high school graduation, college, a career.

Your whole life is ahead of you.

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My Books

 

My Ideal Partner: How I Met, Married, and Cared for the Man I Loved Despite Debilitating Odds

That’s Life: New and Selected Poems

How to Build a better Mousetrap: Recollections and Reflections of a Family Caregiver

We Shall Overcome

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Thursday Tidbit: Birthday, a Poem

Today, my late husband Bill would have been seventy-six years old. The following poem appears in My Ideal Partner: How I Met, Married, and Cared for the Man I Loved Despite Debilitating Odds. I wrote it on his birthday during the last month of his life, which he spent in a nursing home. Click this link to hear me read it.

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BIRTHDAY

Gray hair against white pillow,

lips caress my cheek,

his good arm encircles my shoulder.

The odor of peanut butter

scent of his shampoo comfort me.

Seventy years old today, he says he loves me,

kiss soft against my cheek,

as we hold each other,

for who knows how long.

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Author Abbie Johnson Taylor

We Shall Overcome

How to Build a Better Mousetrap: Recollections and Reflections of a Family Caregiver

That’s Life: New and Selected Poems

My Ideal Partner: How I Met, Married, and Cared for the Man I Loved Despite Debilitating Odds

Click to hear an audio trailer.

Like me on Facebook.

 

 

 

To Dylan at Twenty-One

Greetings again from sunny Florida, where we celebrated my nephew’s twenty-first birthday yesterday. Below is a poem I wrote for this occasion. Happy birthday, Dylan.

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TO MY NEPHEW AT TWENTY-One

Born on St. Patrick’s Day,
named after Bob Dylan and Dylan Thomas,
you were Grandma Gummy’s little dilly bar.
During your first twelve months of life,
I held your eight-pound body,
sang “Three Little Ducks,”

Then you were two.
Grandpa Grumpy’s truck fascinated you.
Being told “no” did not.
At four, you played soccer,
wanted to be big–Now you are.

Life wasn’t always kind
but now, the possibilities are endless.
With your own band,
you could create a record label,
write and record hundreds of songs,
give thousands of performances across the country,
or you could be a teacher like your dad
or a writer like me.
You could inspire millions.

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Abbie Johnson Taylor
We Shall Overcome
How to Build a Better Mousetrap: Recollections and Reflections of a Family Caregiver

That’s Life: New and Selected Poems
My Ideal Partner: How I Met, Married, and Cared for the Man I Loved Despite Debilitating Odds
Like Me on Facebook.

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Sunday Best: 75th Birthday Party

A week ago today, I attended my uncle’s 75th birthday party in Colorado Springs. I made the eight-hour drive down the day before with Aunt Junior and Uncle Roger, who live here in Sheridan, Wyoming. We stayed with Uncle Tony, the birthday boy and a retired lawyer, and Aunt Kitty, who live in a beautiful home in a neighborhood controlled by a homeowner’s association with a clubhouse across the street where the party was held.

The weather on the day of the party was perfect, only in the 80’s, though a bit breezy. It clouded up in the afternoon, but nothing came of it. Most of us sat outside, enjoying barbecued chicken and pork with potato salad and coleslaw and other sides. For dessert, there was a chocolate cake. I met many of Uncle Tony’s friends and colleagues, and his daughters, my cousins, all came from Denver with their families. We all had a wonderful time.

What’s the best thing that happened to you this past week? Please tell me about it in the comment field. I hope something good happens to you this coming week.

 

Author Abbie Johnson Taylor

We Shall Overcome

How to Build a Better Mousetrap: Recollections and Reflections of a Family Caregiver

That’s Life: New and Selected Poems

My Ideal Partner: How I Met, Married, and Cared for the Man I Loved Despite Debilitating Odds

Click to hear an audio trailer.

Like me on Facebook.