Passages

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January 17, 2026-

Hana will never know seven of her great grandparents. Five of them, including my Dad and Penny’s parents, passed some time ago. My Mom has been gone for 1 1/2 years. Yunhee’s maternal grandfather bid farewell this evening.

I recall stories about my own maternal grandfather. He was, by all accounts, a hard- working man, who warned anyone who would listen about the rise of Fascism. That was in the Boston of the late 1920s and early ‘30s.

My maternal grandmother was a bright light of my early years. She would walk down the hill to visit, when we lived less than a mile away. After we moved to our own house, she would take the bus to our corner and walk down Adams Avenue. Either way, she was a reliable presence, until she became ill and passed on, in 1960.

My paternal grandparents were also endearing people. Grampy underwent an experimental heart bypass, in 1955 and didn’t make it through. Nana was more of an enduring presence, living to see and enjoy 49 grandchildren, then 10 great grands. she, too, would take the bus from her neighbourhood in nearby Lynn and one of us would pick her up at Saugus Center.

Hana will know them, and her grandmother, Penny, through stories and pictures. It will be a while, hopefully, before she encounters death as a part of life. Her maternal grandparents and I will keep ourselves active and healthy, and hopefully the impermanence of life will come to be understood in a positive context. I will teach her about spiritual energy, when she is old enough to understand such matters.

In the meantime, I will just be backing her up with prayers, and by holding her close, in a reassuring manner.

Drawn to the Light

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January 8, 2026- Hana and I had an hour of just the two of us, this evening. The rest of the family went to an Asian market, so grandmother could select foods with which to properly make some Korean dishes, which she’s wanted to fix since coming here.

Our darling girl took in her surroundings, as she does most of the time that she’s awake and not feeding. She watched me carefully, as I told her about the world being a largely beautiful place and that there will be many good things in her life, as well as challenging things. I told her that I would be there for her for as long as I am intended. After watching me for several minutes, she began to focus on the light in the next room. Perhaps her departed grandmother made her presence known, or maybe it was just the light to which her eyes were drawn.

It is well that we are more drawn to light than darkness. The latter is something that is best faced and illuminated. While it can be fascinating, darkness is the dearth of light. Those things that are constructive and regenerative are what most merit our attention. As my granddaughter, with no understanding of language, as yet, develops her ways of communicating, eventually including language skills, I sense that her orientation will be towards proactivity and clarity. She already knows that while sometimes crying and fussing are necessary to get her needs met, there are also plenty of times when we attend to her calmer body language.

May she always turn to the light.

The Penske Chronicles, Day 4

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December 29, 2025- The normally effusive server seemed terribly unnerved by something, knocking over water glasses and delivering a cup of coffee with a slightly shaking hand. I have been in a similar state, long ago, in a diner back East, so my empathy was present. Her more composed co-workers helped her keep steady, at least, and my meal was perfectly delicious. Still, I was concerned for her equilibrium and left a larger tip than usual.

This set me to thinking. Today’s post recognizes ten of the local people who made the most significant impressions on me, these past fourteen years. Not in order of importance, they are:

10. My hiking buddy, Akuura Kulak. Besides being equally enamoured as I am, of the beauty of the Southwest, and of Arizona in particular. We also have a similar appreciation for the cuisines of East and South Asia. She is a spot-on reader of people’s astrological charts and purveyor of scents, as well as essential oil blends.

9. My co-worker at Soup Kitchen, John Davidson. John is like the snarky dorm buddy that I missed more than I had thought. He is also a hard worker, running a local food pantry, as well as being a constant for Solid Rock Christian Fellowship’s community outreach activities.

8. My landlord, Robert Mosquera. Robert has never skimped on getting fixes for anything that has been out of order or broken, these past twelve years. Our complex is a simple operation, and his family occupies half of the units, but I still got more bang for my buck here than almost all of my friends in other rental situations in this area. Robert also was an enormous help today, getting a large sofa/hide-a-bed to Goodwill. It was one of those hard-to-sell items, but we got it done.

7. A consistent friend and supporter, Judy Russell. Judy has gone the extra mile in just about anything she’s done since moving here, 25 years ago. Service to our shared Baha’i Faith, to her apartment complex and to her employer, Yavapai College, has been exemplary. She was a great help, in housing my daughter-in-law, when Yunhee came here, in 2021, ahead of Aram, who was still in transit from Korea.

6. The Yetman Family: Carol and Dick, their daughter, Kathleen and her husband, Cole. This wonderful family has been instrumental in the success of Prescott Farmers Market, in the Solid Rock Soup Kitchen and in back-to-school supply events at Prescott United Methodist Church.

5. JayLene and David Long. The driving forces of Prescott’s premier fall event, Hope Fest, the Longs have transcended personal suffering and gone the distance to provide this community with a stellar faith-based day of service to the homeless and less-fortunate. The music is superb and the activities, from legal aid to haircuts, have given help to hundreds, if not thousands, over the years.

4. Molly and Gary Beverly. These farmers of Chino Valley have been driving forces in so many areas, but the greatest of these are Slow Food Prescott and Friends of the Verde River. Without SFP, school gardening initiatives might have languished and proper knowledge and respect for Heirloom agricultural products of Arizona might not have been as widespread. Without FVR, there may not have been a successful Save the Dells, which in turn has protected the Prescott area’s most unique natural wonder: Granite Dells. The Beverlys also have one of the finest farms in the area, and once had a natural swimming hole.

3. The Schaelling-Pena Family. Dharma Farm, the family of seven (and sometimes, ten), and Landen’s indomitable efforts at sustainable living and Permaculture, coupled with Holly’s gentle guidance of five beautiful children, made my occasional visits events that I could have enjoyed on a weekly basis. It was a tonic, being there and seeing young toddlers with a sense of responsibility for one another.

2. Carl Brehmer. One of the most erudite and skilled musicians I’ve ever known, a small farmer and craftsman, and certainly one of the most caring souls that the Prescott area, and our Baha’i community, can count on in a heartbeat. He was an earnest, loving caregiver to his late wife, Marcia, who also ranks as a powerful presence, with her work in fostering awareness of ADHD, both in children and in adults.

1. Meg Bohrman. Another of Prescott’s astonishingly-talented and caring musicians. Meg is everywhere, when there is a faith-based event or things like the Women’s March, the Tree-Lighting ceremony or anything sponsored by the Coalition for Compassion and Justice-or a chance for a concert by Galactogogues, or a solo stint. I first encountered Meg at a dedication event at the Unity Church, when she stood on the sidelines and cheerfully played her accordion. It’s been fabulous music ever since. Her husband, Thatcher, has been the quiet, supportive presence at just about every gathering she either headlines or performs in a supporting role.

A special mention begs here: Melissa Monahan, and her beautiful family, without whom a lot more time would have been needed for me to recover from the loss of my wife and from the missteps of the years that first followed that loss. Melissa has brought the healing element of do Terra, a commitment to true natural healing and the welcoming presence of a stable and loving family. She is also a local pioneer in the cultivation of microgreens and has been a sterling example, to me, of what it means to be a grandparent. She has arguably been my best friend in Prescott.

As with any short list, there is that roster that could go on forever. My life here would also not have been as rich and healing without my Prescott Cluster Baha’i family: John Lambert, his sister, Tammy and late wife, Margaret, Linda and Randy Smith,Gladys Stewart, Mary and John Passamani, Deb and George Konizer, Pamm Sosa, Dave and Annie Lovell, Steve and Tauby Calrow, Steve and Sharon Stone, Frank and Ellen Assadi, Claudia and Donny, Ellen Buccholz, Susan Bensch, Jerry Gardner; without Joe and Sandy Gorraiz and all the regulars at Ernest A. Love Post 6 of the American Legion; the Monday Coffee Klatsch ladies; Ashley Fine and her daughter, Sedona; Dawn Wasowicz, her daughters Arin and Brooke, and late husband, Jeff, who have made Rafter 11 such a staple of my weekends here; Allan, Bea, David, Glenda, Lloyd and Nichele-the Taco Tuesday regulars at El Gordo; The Cheektones, Jonathan Best, the Howard Brothers, Scandalous Hands, Candace Devine and Lake Francis Case, the grand family of Prescott musicians, who make the Raven, and the Courthouse lawn, so vibrant and experience; Annie Baker, Kaolin Young, Emily, Lena, JB Campos, Paul, Keaton, Marie and all those who make the Prescott Farmers Market such an integral part of anyone’s Prescott experience; Karen Pimentel, Tom Altavilla and my Red Cross family, who taught me the skills necessary to engender public safety; and finally, the workers and clientele at Monday’s Soup Kitchen: There is wisdom to be found in every soul’s story.

Tomorrow afternoon, I leave an empty and clean apartment, but I will never leave this beautiful place and all the people mentioned above, and more, in my mind and heart.

Not Overlooked

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December 16, 2025- The tall, soft-spoken man had become used to being overlooked. This morning, though, he was tired of it. When asked to wait for our Blood Donation center to finish being set up, he obligingly sat down. Then, things happened in rapid succession: The Center opened, ten people came through the door and lined up to be admitted, while he stayed seated. Once the line had been processed, the man was called over. He was livid.

He got an apology and was processed, then, still grousing about unfair treatment, he went to the donor interview seating area. One of those who had preceded him in line struck up a conversation, heard him out and offered to let him go ahead. That took the wind out of his angry sails and he calmed down. After a satisfying donation, he told the registration volunteers that they were not at fault, and wished everyone a Merry Christmas.

Many people in our society, and in large communities across the globe, feel overlooked, anonymous. Many indeed are. The human brain can only process just so much, and can only pay attention to just so many, before encountering someone who just doesn’t register, whose needs don’t compute. The brain is part of a physical system. It is finite, although it is also far more capable of achievement than most of us allow.

A lot of anonymity in society is due to spiritual dissonance. We are all primarily spiritual beings, living for a time in a physical frame. Those who don’t recognize their spirituality are far more likely to both feel overlooked and to compartmentalize their relationships with others. Isolation is a dangerous thing, both for the person experiencing it, and for those at whom the isolate, eventually, lashes out. Those who feel overlooked will eventually, invariably, find each other, and form groups with skewed visions of reality. Terrorism then ensues, either by someone acting alone or by the group.

The ISIS attack on American Army Reservists in Syria, over the weekend; the mass murder in Sydney; the murders of a conservative activist and an Uzbeki student, in Providence; and even the killings of Rob and Michele Reiner, all follow the pattern: One or more isolated people, to some extent or another exacerbated by mental illness, and in many cases separated from their true spirit (even if they claim to be acting on behalf of a Faith), and feeling misunderstood, lash out in a horrifying manner. They misunderstand their own nature, and taking the seeming indifference of others-who are themselves a bit cut off from their spirituality-as proof that they are owed retribution, lash out in a horrifying manner.

Each individual needs to know that s(he) is responsible for own spiritual education. Parents and adults close to a child can help him or her in that regard. Adults can help one another, but in the end, we each need to take agency for our spiritual existence.

Several of us heard the gentleman’s cry for recognition, this morning, and turned around what could have been an ugly situation. This can be done anywhere, if we recognize the Source of our lives and strive accordingly.

Reason Returns

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December 14, 2025- I did not go to Bellemont, and climb up a long flight of stairs, six times, in order to store six boxes of books in an already crowded room which few people will enter until next summer. I had considered that option, until early this morning.

My late wife appeared to me in a dream, as if she were right beside me. That was a nice sensation, and though I realized it was a different level of reality, some insights came to me. I got the message to check with our public library, to see if they would take 2 boxes of the books. They did so, gladly, thus bringing a more meaningful Baha’i presence to either their general stock, their saleable book collection, or both.

Regarding the actual move, consultation with my son led me to contact a possible moving assistance service, comparing their price with what it would cost me to do the move on my own. There are timing issues, as well, so I will see what their answer is. This is the U-POD system that is growing in popularity. It makes sense for people who have a high volume to move. I do not, but rather am just in that gray area, with a few too many keepsakes for one trip.

Reason made this day a nice one. I did not have to leave town, saving my energy for what lies ahead this week. I can get a lot more done tomorrow, and won’t have to worry about letting my family down, come next week.

Honourable

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December 13, 2025- Two farewell gatherings took place today. One was small and short, taking place after my last work effort with Prescott Farmers Market. I got a thank you card and a special little round of hugs and handshakes.

The second was a full-on dinner party, a gathering of Baha’is, at the home of a couple who have been here for about three years. We shared several of our experiences, as well as focusing on the challenges present in our lives. Every person alive today has challenges and unmet needs. Camaraderie both eases those and offers a way by which they can be overcome.

I was recently advised, by someone whose counsel I value, that once I leave the area, no one will give me a second thought. Yes, and no. Everyone has lives to live and must go forward, regardless of who else leaves or stays. There was today, however, an overwhelming consensus that my presence will be missed. Yes and no, for me as well. I will focus on what is in front of me, in Plano-as I have in Prescott, these past fourteen years, and as I did in Phoenix before that. That focus, and commitment to being honourable, are what earned the respect of so many in this community. They are also what lead me to see the same qualities in others. I will never forget my time here, and all that ended up moving forward, because of our teamwork.

I will pack those things that I feel the need to bring with me, and I will carry the love of people in my heart.

Absurdities vs. Solutions

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December 11, 2025- A few of us gathered for a regular gathering, this afternoon, with illnesses and work trimming our numbers. There was a fair amount of interest in my schedule for departure and what might await me on the other end. Friends here are universally happy for me and family, while wistful about what it all means for the community. I know that I am hardly the be all and end all of anything, yet it feels nice to be so appreciated.

One friend gifted me with a small device that, inserted in the left ear, will alert with a buzz, if it senses a driver starting to doze off. This has not been a problem for me since the lowest point of my caretaking days, but it is best to be forearmed. I will use it faithfully, in the journey that lies ahead.

My morning had been occupied with cleaning out the spice cabinet. All those items that I had dutifully kept, from time immemorial, ended up discarded. Most glass bottles and metal boxes were carefully cleaned and placed in recycling. The worn out contents were properly placed in trash. Similar processes lie ahead for the office desk drawers, the clothes closet and the dresser. Then, there is the carport storage, either next Wednesday or Thursday. The book shelves are separated between “keep” and “donate”. Friends will come to look at the furniture, probably over the weekend, knowing that the sofa and the bed frame are headed elsewhere.

All this occupies me and generates solutions. There was a suggestion that I rent a large truck and tow Sportage. That would obviate any need for a second trip back and forth, but which is the absurdity and which, the solution, is still a matter of dollars, and sense. Aram and I will work that part out next week.

At least one medical provider has a counterpart in the Plano-Frisco area, and I can drive to that office, using a surface road. I’m hardly afraid of freeways, mind you, but have always made it my business to know the layout of secondary streets.

I go through this process, in the only way I know how, seeking solutions by talking things over with family and friends, and taking concrete steps forward, each day. I would like to see the same thing happen, in affairs of state, but there are so many who, it seems, are given over to absurdities. Eventually, solutions will present themselves, and not take “No’ for an answer. I prefer to have found them in a timely manner.

The Essentials of 74; The Promise of 75

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November 28, 2025, Grapevine- The road to diamond ended where it began, in the company of my little family, here in Texas’ Christmas City. There was a sense that life would continue as ever, for the three of us, and in preparation for my third visit to the Philippines, I seriously contemplated moving there, being very strongly drawn to a lovely woman and having made several friends during my first two trips to that beautiful, struggling, supremely hospitable country.

I sojourned a lot this year-to the Philippines in February; back to the eastern U.S., in May and across a wide swath of Europe in September and October. In between, my commitment to Prescott continued unabated and many hours of service were recorded. These were the fruits of twelve years of building relationships and friendships, across sectarian and even ideological lines.

The finest thing about both travels and community service came in seeing people take the reins of empowerment to themselves. Filipinos rejuvenating a local Baha’i Center, building a pavilion for an elementary school, and women standing up and saying “Enough” to abusive significant others made my spirit soar. The initial phases of a Baha’i House of Worship, north of Manila were an added bonus.

Northern Arizona became a distinct Red Cross Chapter again this year. I had little to do with the actual achievement, but was able to establish ties between the organization and at least one rural community, east of Prescott. We also reached out to formerly isolated communities in the far northern reaches of the state-albeit as an outcome of a horrific fire that ravaged the magnificent North Rim of the Grand Canyon.

Getting to spend time with friends in several European countries fulfilled an eleven year old promise. Visits to Sweden, Croatia, Ireland and the United Kingdom accomplished that goal. Paying homage to the victims of the Holocaust, at Auschwitz-Birkenau and to those massacred at Srebrenica, Bosnia & Hercegovina was the fulfillment of what I regard as a duty of a citizen of the world. In most places, my presence was evanescent, yet I felt at home, and would not be unwelcome if I returned.

I have reached my diamond jubilee. The day, and this Thanksgiving visit, have been focused on the coming move of my little family and I into a permanent home. Doing things like meeting the tradesmen who will help prepare the house, going over specs and pointing out things that need to be repaired/replaced, shopping for new furniture to replace items that are, in my case at least, nearly fourteen years old-have taken precedence. Once I get back in Prescott, in the middle of next week, the process of dismantling Home Base I begins in earnest. Furniture will need to be sold or given away, as will clothing, books and a variety of household items. Farewells will be said, at gatherings in the Prescott area, in southern California and in the Phoenix area. Farewell, though, is not an eternal goodbye.

Our little one will arrive, sometime in the second half of December. A new era thus starts, along with the beginning of my “fourth quarter”. Other than a visit to the Philippines, at the start of 2026, itself dependent on the baby’s healthy start and her mother’s health, my time at the new Home Base I, from March onward, will be primarily focused on my granddaughter’s care. Gradually, Plano will become my new community. It will not be Prescott-but then again, Prescott was not Jeddito, and Jeddito was not Jeju. Every Home Base has had its draws, its strengths and its undying memories.

The promise of 75 is the promise of guiding a new life, a new human being, who may very well be the embodiment of much that I have wanted to offer the world. The choice, though, will be up to her alone. All her parents and I can do is guide her with love.

The Road to Diamond, Day 365: Gratitude

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November 27, 2025, Grapevine- My grandchild gave a small kick, when I spoke to her through her mother’s belly. Her coming birth is surely the shiniest blessing, overarching this year and the next. Grandparenthood is already a feeling far different, in a beautiful way, than anything I have ever experienced, and it will only get more so, upon her arrival. Those who are already grandparents know this all too well.

Thankfulness cannot be relegated to one day a year, though I am supremely thankful to have been brought into the world, myself, in a season of collective thanks. Many years, my birthday has fallen on Thanksgiving Day, making my mother thankful that I loved roast turkey, stuffing, butternut squash and green bean casserole, while being tolerant of mashed potatoes. This Thanksgiving Day, the last day before my diamond jubilee, was Aram’s first turn at actually carving a turkey-so he asked me, at long last, to show him how. I am grateful for fatherhood, and the ways that it never ends.

I had lengthy conversations with both of my living brothers today. Both are living embodiments of what it means to persist and redefine success. My sister is that, as well, and has forever defined, for me, triumph over adversity. They have each walked their trails to strength and purposeful living. I am grateful for siblinghood, and the ways that it never ends.

This afternoon,looking at the house where we will be a family of four, gave me a sense of both fulfillment and wonder. I would not have predicted this state of affairs, even a year ago. It is a sizable place and my area is almost as large as my present apartment, save my current kitchen. It will be a comfort being in a house that is a home, from the get go. I will let go of most of what I presently own-including about 80 % of my books. In return, I will have the knowledge that my little family is secure, day to day, and that things can always be replaced. I am grateful for shelter, and the ways that it is always available.

I will be leaving Arizona soon, after an at times topsy-turvy life of service to children and teens, that has only deepened my commitment to their well-being, In the course of things, lifelong friendships have been built, old and counterproductive concepts and habits from my youth have been cast aside and a commitment to Faith has arisen. I am grateful for all the friends who have stood by me, over the past thirty-three years. I am grateful for Divine Guidance, and the ways that it has never let me down.

Over the next 2-5 years, I will be more settled than I have been in the past fourteen. I will need my health and stamina to meet different needs, some of which can only be surmised at this point. Travel has its bounties and strengths; building family also has its share of both. Living consciously and maintaining equilibrium have been an enormous blessing. I am grateful for flexibility, and the ways it has guided me through so much change over the years, and will continue to guide.

Now I have reached a point attained by many elders and by several of my cousins before me. I am grateful for having safely achieved the age of seventy-five. More on that, tomorrow, but let me thank all of you, my family and friends, across this continent and across the planet. You are my life’s grandest blessing.

I am closing with a song that I consider one of the most beautiful of this, or any century. This one is for my Mom and Dad, for whom I have the most gratitude of all.

The Road to Diamond, Day 360: Love and Mercy

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November 22, 2025- His voice cracking, and eyes starting to well, R stopped and recovered himself, then continued on with his account of the past five months, since I saw him last. R is one of the friends I will miss after leaving Prescott. He and his wife were among the first to welcome me, in 2011. Their restaurant is one of the mainstays of my life here, once a week, for breakfast or lunch. The shenanigans of the staff or of the locals that sit at the counter are always a hoot. I listened with rapt attention and reflective comments, as R filled me in on his so far successful fight for life. I want to see people win those kinds of battles.

Getting back to Home Base I, I arranged for the delivery of a piece of furniture that I have had re-upholstered. It had been in almost too sorry a condition to even invite people over. Now, it is in beautiful shape and I will be proud to hand it off to someone who needs a nice piece of furniture for their living room. As it happened, the delivery man’s schedule conflicted with my usual stint at Farmers Market, but as my cosmic advisor said of today-“It is a day to go with the flow, when life interrupts routine.” Delivery man and his helper were meticulous in bringing the piece in and getting it in place. They took their time folding their blankets and putting everything back in place.

I went to Farmers Market, anyway, and finding the crew dealing with a long line of vendors, I took care of cleaning and putting away the folding chairs and tables, then made headway in taking down at least some of the tents. It was then time for Baha’i Feast, so I left the nonetheless grateful crew, who by that time were finished with the vendors.

Feast was a cozy affair. We had our devotions and talked of community matters, then planned next month’s activities and enjoyed refreshments. This little community is also a group of people I will miss, having collaborated with them continuously for fourteen years, and having known many of them from our residence here in 1992 and 2000-01. The Baha’i Faith has only been an impetus for my positive growth as a human being.

Finally, I spent the evening at Raven Cafe, enjoying a light dinner and the music of a favourite local band, The Cheektones. Don and the boys have a knack for getting people up an dancing. I occupied an old wooden chair and had the company of a few friends of the band. After about 1 1/2 hours of bouncing in my seat, I got up and joined the dancing to the last two songs. Before I did so, the guys played a song that summed up today, and many days in my life: “Love and Mercy”, the Brian Wilson song from 1988. Here is an earlier performance by The Cheektones, from Prescott’s Summer Music on the Square series.

This is the last of my “two posts a day”, game of catch-up on this blog site. It has been sometimes a challenge, to find a theme for a given day, but from my readership, it seems there are plenty of you who identified with at least some of what has happened here, since my return from Europe.

Life is sweet.