Mental Acuity

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January 21, 2026- in my going around Collin County, I dovetail between using Apple Maps and relying on my memory and general sense of direction. Today, for example, I used the GOS to get to the Plano Costco and memory got me back to the house.

I generally don’t have trouble finding my way, though in younger days, I let social pressure get me rattled and confused. Now, I follow my sense of direction and common courtesy guide my driving. The person at an intersection ahead of me comes first and the one behind me can just wait.

There is a lot of concern about senescence and dementia, in people between the ages of 65-100+. This is a risk we all take, but there are principles of diet, rest and mental exercises that reduce the chances of mental decline.

Shakespeare wrote King Lear as a cautionary tale in that regard, and we have seen many films, read many books and heard a few songs dealing with the matter. It follows that the greater a person’s responsibilities are, the more crucial it is that a trusted team of advisers be in place, to make sure the responsibilities entrusted to the person are carried out in a coherent manner.

As a contemporary of the President of the United States, I understand the risks he is facing. As a citizen, I expect that his advisers take their responsibilities towards the nation and the world more seriously.

Inclusion

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January 19, 2026-

We have come too far, as a nation and as a species, to go back to a world in which fever dreams of a “Master Race” or favoured status of one group over another can dictate policy or social coda.

I say this on a day when many people honour the life and legacy of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. it is not a liberal or conservative matter. One of Dr. King’s lieutenants was Ralph Abernathy, a social conservative and sometime Republican, who also did not wish to be relegated to second-class status. Another was a noted progressive, Jesse Jackson, who has spearheaded the movement towards full inclusion.

Two years ago, when I was still in Prescott, for MLK Day, a presenter spoke of the concept that “All means all”. She said that conservatives are part of the mix. She also said that no one group should be allowed to limit any other.

That arrangement allows even extremists to speak freely, while putting a check on their ability to act against the rights of those they seek to dominate.

That, to me, is the basis for social inclusion.

First Thing

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January 18, 2026-

I was glad to be invited to a Baha’i Feast this evening. I didn’t attend because my kids took Yunhee’s Mom out to dinner and found themselves waiting in line for an hour.

Hana and I held down the fort at home. We just looked at a big plush toy with valentine heart eyes and felt its softness. I told her about the need to sometimes be patient and how so many things that her soul wants will take time to happen.

She will understand this and much else, in less time than we might imagine. She sees things that adults can’t and seems comforted by them. She also knows, on a very basic level, that her safety and well-being are the most important things to us.

So, if I am asked to be somewhere and my grandchild needs me, I will take a rain check on the invitation.

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.

Sanctuary

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January 13, 2026- Granddaughter had a tough day today. Our little Capricorn had to take not one, but two, trips in the car, so being in the car seat-one of her least favourite activities-was just part of the agenda. The other stuff was more of a personal nature-the normal ups and downs of being a newborn. This house, though, is her sanctuary-and Grandfather’s arms are a bower. None of us here will let anything wreck her day, and if she has, as her father occasionally had, a tough time, I will set anything else aside and just hold and rock her.

When Hana is upset, and I have her with me, she will look me in the eye while crying, almost as if hoping to see and feel being understood. That, she is, and the group of us will figure out what is bothering her, either from her physical cues or by noting anything that has happened, during feeding or elimination, that might be causing her distress.

Every human being deserves sanctuary. The sanctuary for the innocent is protection from harm. The sanctuary for the criminal is due process. In 2016, Donald Trump asked one fair question: “Where was the sanctuary for Kate Steinle?” She was the young lady who was killed by a violent man who was in the United States illegally. Kate Steinle was in a place for people on holiday. She, and everyone else there, deserved a safe environment.

The same is true for every other person who has been killed or assaulted by someone filled with rage. They deserved a safe place. Think about that, before commenting on whether anyone going about their business deserved death or injury, for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Fire Blankets and Urban Walking

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January 12, 2026- My order of three fire suppression blankets came today. These blankets offer considerable protection in the event of a house fire, so we have one on each floor and a third in the laundry room, next to the garage. They are easier to use than a fire extinguisher, though hopefully we won’t need to use them at all.

I spent a good part of this afternoon in the nearby city of McKinney, which is our county seat, and the location of a KIA dealership. I first caught a Lyft to downtown, not being sure just how far it was, or how difficult it might be to get there from the dealer. Finding the main bookstore closed, I walked around the interesting downtown, and settled in at Collective Coffee, which reminds me, favourably, of Prescott’s Wild Iris or Century Lounge. I can see myself frequenting Collective, when in McKinney on one errand or another.

After indulging in a latte and slice of coffee cake, I checked the distance back to the dealership. It was 1.5 miles, mostly along a pleasant residential street, so I made the walk. The houses are largely of Victorian vintage, many with turrets. There are a few businesses in midtown, but the mini-malls wait until closer to U.S. 75. I am accustomed to navigating walking paths near major thoroughfares, though, and this area has crosswalks that allow for safe passage over highway approaches, just shy of the actual on-ramps. I was back at the dealership in less than a half-hour.

The service department caught up with a few recalls and gave me a schedule for maintenance. It’s good to be at a KIA dealer, after four years of winging it.

Back home, all were glad to see me. Hana relaxed her head on my shoulder and let out a big sigh, as I helped her into sleep mode tonight. Grandpa will not let her down.

Edith Renfrow Smith

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January 10, 2026- She largely minded her own business, focusing on getting an education-even in the aftermath of Plessy vs.Ferguson, and then on educating others, for over forty years, and being vindicated by the decision in Brown vs. Board of Education. Edith Renfrow Smith was a product of small town Iowa, and in fact was the only African-American at her school in Grinnell and the first at its highly-regarded college, which she graduated in 1937. Edith died yesterday, in her adopted home of Chicago. She was 111.

Mrs. Smith was a mentor to the great jazz pianist, Herbie Hancock, who was her neighbour in Chicago. She gently encouraged him to attend Grinnell College, which he did, turning a dual interest in engineering and music into a career of innovation in piano jazz. She also met several prominent Black-Americans, from Gwendolyn Brooks to Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., during her years in Chicago.

I look at the lives of people like Mrs. Smith, who welcomed guests into her home, almost until the day she passed, as examples of how one can live life to the full, through a mix of civic engagement and maintaining a modicum of privacy. As the granddaughter of a runaway slave who himself built a new life in the free state of Iowa, she found a love for education and self-improvement were instilled in her. She passed those on to her two daughters and to her grandchildren. She also passed along the philosophy of greeting everyone with a smile. It was important to her that this small act was the basis for making the world a better place.

The balance set forth by Mrs. Smith is as fine a model to follow into advanced age, as any I have seen.

Wondering about Clouds

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January 9, 2026- In my early evening time with Hana, she was gazing up at the clouds and the tree in our front yard. The big upper windows allow plenty of room for a child to look up and out, especially when wrapped in the safety of loving arms. I told her about how clouds give trees life-giving water, just like we are feeding her life-giving milk. She continued to look at the scene outside. Her pre-lingual brain is, no doubt, saving images, with repeat observation and hearing similar words with regard to what she sees.

I wonder, too, about clouds, though of a different kind. The mental clouds we use to “shield” ourselves from the reality of things outside or even from our own shadow selves-misgivings, shrill self-condemnation, lack of impulse control, can be useful in the sense of giving time to process those negative elements and let them flow out. Held on too tightly, they can be energy-sapping and unnecessarily limiting.

That is the wisdom of nature: Clouds come, drop their load of rain or snow, and move along-so long as we,in our rush to make a profit or craving to hold onto ideas that have lost their efficacy, do not continue with policies and behaviours that interrupt the water cycle. Nature ebbs and flows well enough on its own. We have the choice of learning to flow with it, as many ancient cultures did, or of acting in arrogance and trying to supersede the natural rhythm.

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.

Thumb Rockets

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January 7, 2026- “Let me show you a trick that your granddaughter will think is the stupidest thing she ever saw”, the new friend from McKinney said over lunch at a local deli. He proceeded to have me wrap a piece of paper around my thumb, and twist it to make a little “hat” for the thumb. He’s right; I think Hana would roll her eyes at that part, when she is about eight or nine. He then had me make an OK sign with my other thumb and forefinger, put it around my wrapped thumb and pull the thumb out of the paper, but in such a way that it made the paper go up and out- a thumb rocket.

D is an interesting man who has not had an easy life. That puts him in good company with a number of people I’ve known over the years. The difference is, he’s made mostly good choices, from the time he was a child. Growing up in the north of this Metroplex, when it was a long ways from being a Metroplex, he’s seen it all happen. Still, as I watched, the farmer in him caught a small rat by the tail and disposed if it in a way that a man who has plowed through hard knocks for eight decades would do without batting an eyelash. (No, that was NOT in the deli).

Time with a good ole boy is spent in a way similar to how time is spent with a First Nations person, a nomad of the Negev, or a campesino anywhere in the Southwest or Mexico. The watch stays hidden, because schedules don’t matter. D told stories of his childhood and his large family. A lot of his experiences mirror those of my male elders. Farm life is a great connector. After the nearly ninety-minute lunch, I drove around the area a bit, to ponder all that I had heard.

I will see D., and other local Baha’is, on a regular basis, so perhaps I will earn other “tricks” that will make my granddaughter alternately giggle and groan.