Friday, December 6, 2013

Forty-Four


     I never remember it, but the Lovely One does.  December 6, 1969, forty-four years arrear now.  We met and that changed my life forever.  She just reminded me as she does most years.  Never known anyone like her, can't say I've ever been loved more selflessly, Big C and before, had more fun with, bigger laughs, more stressful adventures. 
     I wish I had been an easier partner. I know what she has had to put up with.  But then I was the needy one - most of the time.  "She raised me up on wings. . ." No, no, too sentimental and I have no clear recollection of being up high.
     Now I am more dependant than ever and she caters to my every whim. Ominously, tomorrow, we celebrate Pearl Harbor day.

Tuesday, December 3, 2013

Time Table  
  Today is December 3,2013.  Since my diagnosis August 16,, one hundred and eight days, depending on my fuzzy-brained calculations, have passed. Most have been good days and pretty good nights - naps pretty fair - I've taken those in good health.
     I eat like a hog and have not regained my top weight.  I assume my disease has an appetite for ice cream, too.The chef is preparing tri-tip and broccolini for dinner.
      I get nudges.  I read the prayers and literature.  Found two copies of the whole Bible on my iPhone!  Web-based or located I don't know.  Not like I don't have paper and on the Kindle.  Pretty much any thought about faith can be pursued.
     When I left radiation, Dr. Koo gave me three months to a year.  One hundred, eight days, tic-toc, tic-toc.

Monday, November 18, 2013

Photo at left taken by Don Close.  At right, taken close up.

Monday, November 11, 2013

Fortune

     So I have a couple tumors spread across my aging body which saps my strength.  I still can read German (I'm into a strange Teutonic novel on my Kindle - what's my future in that?)  I still enjoy music, Scrabble, leaving the house, excellent food.  Last night, sliced turkey, fresh bread, corn, baked potato and ice cream in a warm home.
      Also last night thousands of Philippine children lost their parents.  The news is hard to watch.  At my worst I am blest.  I hope to leave my family in a way they can cope with.  At least that is the plan..  One more advantage.
     Food for scoffers.  Big challenge to believers. I'm hanging in there with thankfulness.

Saturday, November 2, 2013

DUST



     Awake at night, thinking about dust.  Dust to dust.  The first part of the dust is incomprehensibly connected biologically over the centuries.  It roars along through intricate connections making families and generations.  It is very fancy dust.
     The dust to which we all return is disconnected from the huge soulwork of generational life and biology acts fast to reduce it to real dust, sloughed off the huge swirls of life – my words are insufficient – but the end of life dust may, or not, retain an image briefly, then go on to become no much more than requiring burial or cremation.
     So huge and so complex- human history and biographies and art and drama – can in one instant be trashed.  For me, in my lowly estate of mind, it does not require the doctrines I have steeped myself in, to believe in persistence.  Life is too big – dust is too tiny.
     All this is crude for big-boy philosophy.  Kept me awake, though.

Wednesday, October 30, 2013

Lugubrious grubbing through poetry



From Bierce to Bronte, to Shaespeare
Reading poems about the D word;
Not one tells what around the corner will appear
To leave me assured.
Rooted, moored.
I abandon what I can’t apprehend,
Here is what I best understand:

GENESES:
By the sweat of your face
    you shall eat bread
until you return to the ground,
    for out of it you were taken;
you are dust,
    and to dust you shall return.”
COMMENT BY OMAR KAYAK:  The Bible doesn’t not mention how much we humans treasure the “dust” and the costs of the medicine we pour into before it “blows away.”  Prophets and healers of the Old Days didn’t have the high overhead and IT planning. 

Tuesday, October 29, 2013

Music2



Tues, 10/29/13 MORE MUSIC

Bach, Arvo Pᾃrt, transport
I can only hold so much
Thick, heavy; then abort
To lyrical, lighter touch
Joy, Serenity. Mirth.
Connecting Heaven and Earth.