The Hana Chronicles, Month 5, Day 15

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June 5, 2026- Granddaughter reveled, in eating pureed cabbage, this morning. She seems to revel in eating just about everything so far. (Zucchini being a question mark.) Hana is definitely a member of the Clean Plate Club, without being coaxed. If this persists through toddlerhood and the Fussy Eater years, so much the better.

Our day went well, with lots of independent play time in the pen, as well as Papa being in there, for the sake of reassurance and companionship. We explored a horseshoe-shaped side street, Chester Drive, which starts one block north and curves around to the east, behind our cul-de-sac. A young couple had just come back from Friday prayers, clad, head-to-toe in black. Otherwise, the street was quiet and empty. Hana didn’t mind the quietude.

As she napped, this afternoon, I read a piece about the Dutch director, Wim Wenders, who expressed regret for having depicted a certain actress in the nude, when she was only thirteen. He has removed the objectionable scenes from all versions of that film. The actress in question, now in her 60s, recently expressed how painful it has been, all these years, to have been so depicted in that film, and in two others a year, and three years, later. One hopes that the other two films may also be expunged of the tawdry scenes.

Many men, myself included for many years, gave scant thought to how it must have felt to girls and women baring all, in films, and even in glossy magazines. I knew better, by the time I was thirty, and Hana’s paternal grandmother had come into my life, along with the Baha’i teachings, which stress the dignity and worth of all human beings. Before that, there was always the double standard: A man’s (or boy’s) female relatives were held high above the world of sensuality. We respected our friends’ sisters and mothers also. There was a friend zone, which included a measure of respect, for the girls around us. Somehow, that did not extend to the world of “entertainment”.

More’s the pity. I started to take exception to the cavalier treatment of teenaged female actors, when very young girls were presented to audiences, in various states of deshabille. I did not watch any of those films, more out of shame over my past private thoughts and cavalier attitude. Then came Penny, our shared Faith and my career in education, which included the protection and guidance of girls and boys alike. There was no longer a double standard.

What this has to do with Hana is that, from Day One, her father and I are all the more committed to her well-being and development of her entire person. She is a sharp-eyed, intuitive person, making it all the more imperative for us to eschew any semblance of a double standard. Besides which, the old attitudes are just rotten for any man’s soul.

We are all so much more than eye candy.

“A Space of Quiet Promise”

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May 28, 2026- I am now halfway through my diamond year. Much has changed, since my 75th birthday, and much, at least inside me, has remained the same.

I have left a mountain community, with many acts of service in the course of a week. There was also much in the way of natural beauty, in which I could become refreshed, even at the risk of encountering an apex predator. I left a solid community of friends, of all Faiths, though a good many of my interactions were with my fellow Baha’is; Friends were also from all points on the political spectrum; as apt to be women as men; many were older than 60, and many were younger. I finally mastered the art of teaching, just in time to retire.

I came to a place of quiet promise. (The phrase is borrowed from blogger Cynthia Ward’s essay, “Who I Used To Be”.)* I left a one-bedroom apartment and came into a two-story house, with three bedrooms and two offices that could convert to bedrooms. The kitchen and living room, alone, are the size of what I left behind. I came to live with family, as an active contributor, rather than as a dependent. My educational skills now go towards the development of my infant granddaughter. My Red Cross volunteering is strictly on weekends, and my Baha’i activities are on evenings and weekends. I have not changed my American Legion post, as yet. There is no activity at the nearest post, save gatherings centered on drinking and smoking, neither of which interest me, nor would they suit my coming home to a nursing mother and a little girl. As time goes on, Slow Food Dallas-Fort Worth could draw me into its activities.

Health-wise, I have found a fine, competent VA doctor, dentist and chiropractor. I go to a Planet Fitness, about ten minutes from here. There are plenty of parks nearby and several safe neighbourhoods in which to walk, day or night. I can still do a plank for 1 1/2-2 minutes. I can still walk 3-5 miles. (It’s mostly flat here, but the humidity makes up for the lack of elevation changes).

I have several bounties here: A loving son, daughter-in-law and granddaughter; a large and supportive Baha’i community; a quiet neighbourhood connected with the outside world by well-ordered streets and roads; and, for the next few months at least, a reliable supply network for what we need. This house, this community, are places of quiet promise.

  • “Who I Used to Be”, Still Amazed, Cynthia Ward May 25,2026

Shared Loads

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May 26, 2026- Hana’s solid food introduction schedule was devised today, just as her first tooth, or two, is starting to erupt. She accepted the three spoonfuls of rice porridge, which of course are still supplemented by mother’s milk. We three generally share feeding responsibilities, with me taking on the feeding-and everything else pertaining to her care, during the workday. It is one of the most rewarding jobs I’ve ever had.

As a child and teen, I had certain specific chores-and was also raised to notice what needed to be done-and to take care of it. Dad’s words were “Don’t expect an engraved invitation….” I was not the ideal child, but I did take some pride in helping around the house. My siblings, likewise, did their share.

We don’t issue engraved invitations to each other here, either. If one of us is the first to come upon something that needs to be done, we don’t wait around for permission. It is just how a well-oiled household has always worked, in my experience-and it will be a good example for Hana (and her siblings, if there are any.)

A community would seem to be much the same. I have taken on a couple of committee roles in the Baha’i community here and serve as a Red Cross Blood Donor Ambassador in two or three weekend blood drives, each month. While it is a far cry from the volunteer activities that found me in Prescott, these roles dovetail nicely with my first responsibility: My grandchild.

I know of people who work far harder in a volunteer capacity-and my hat goes off to them. It is, however, a truth that “Many hands make light work”; “Teamwork makes the dream work”, and so on. We will continue to make our homestead, and our youngest member, thrive.

Worlds Within A World, Part VI

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May 19,2026- My granddaughter, Hana, has taken to spinning a couple of little wheels on her multi-level “School House” toy. She likes to press the colour and shape buttons on another toy, and is trying to figure out how to push the tiny “Menu” lever. That would put some snappy music on, but she doesn’t seem sure how she feels about snappy music. She can listen to it for a few minutes, then looks at me and says “Not”. She blows kisses at us, and carries a wiper cloth around with her, as she is crawling, then wipes her mouth, if there is any spittle. She laughs heartily, sometimes at a silly story one of us is reading. (I think she is good at reading our faces, as well, and laughs along with us. She will be five months old on Thursday.

Plano world began on January 2,2026, when I moved my necessary belongings into the comfortable home that I share with Hana and her parents-my son and daughter-in-law. I kept everything else in storage. Plano world is small, even more so than Low Desert world was, while I was Penny’s caregiver. but not as small as Saugus world. Tending to Hana’s needs, when her parents are otherwise occupied, is my raison d’etre. There are, though, some Baha’i activities and Red Cross Blood Donor Ambassador shifts-the former mostly in the evenings and the latter on weekends only. I visit Plano Farmers Market, on Saturday mornings, but there is no need for volunteers there, so I just buy what attracts me. There are a few coffee shops, restaurants and book shops that I go to, now and then. Mostly, though, my granddaughter, and her parents, are my life.

Son asked me, some time ago, whether I wanted to keep certain items in my car-for when I travel. This Sagittarian has no plans for travel-at least until October, and that will depend on Hana’s needs and her parents’ work situations. If I have two weeks to myself, I will go either east or west. If I don’t have that time, it’ll suffice to enjoy the growth of my precious little girl.

It’s different now. I still correspond with a dear friend in the Philippines and with several others, across the continent and across the globe. It all feels so far away, though. Even Arizona, so embedded in my heart for so many years, feels like another planet; thus, my series being entitled as it is. Prescott felt like that at first, then I threw myself wholly into the community and into traveling. As Hana grows, there may well be an expansion of Plano world-but we’ll see..

True Blue

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April 11, 2026- The penultimate speaker, in this evening’s memorial to the late Baha’i teacher, Glenford Mitchell, began by noting that the hour was getting late, and saying he would be brief. He then went on for ten minutes. No reminiscence about Mr.Mitchell could ever be ever be brief, though he himself was the model of brevity, in his talks and speeches. He simply meant too much, to too many people.

I sat for the live-streamed broadcast of this memorial because of the tenor of Mr. Mitchell’s work. An early founder of the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Council (“Snick”) and co-author of “The Angry Black South” (1962), he became enamoured of the Teachings of Baha’ullah, first taught him by his paternal uncle, in his native Jamaica and coming again to the fore of his heart while he lived in Raleigh, NC as a student at Shaw University. Glenford threw himself more fully into Baha’i work and by dint of his devotion and work ethic, was elected to one Baha’i administrative body after another, serving fourteen years on the National Spiritual Assembly of the Baha’is of the United States, then twenty-six years on the Faith’s Supreme Body: The Universal House of Justice.

In his later years, Mr. Mitchell’s health declined, but his spirit kept on and he continued to welcome friends and family to his home, even if he could no longer walk or speak. His wife and family stood by him, and saw that his declining years were not those of misery. Glenford Mitchell’s spirit remained true blue-even through his passing on February 7.

Randy Smith, who also passed on recently, served the Baha’i Faith in Washington State and in Prescott Valley, AZ, for nearly thirty years. I knew Randy, and his wife, Linda, as steadfast, long-suffering community servants, in the Prescott area. Others recall the same about them, in the Olympia and Longview areas.Randy was most often found in his shop/garage, attached to the family home. He welcomed neighbours, including youths, who were either interested in his various projects or who simply wanted to borrow tools. He also spent long hours with his grandchildren, either when the family came up from the Phoenix area or when he and Linda went down there for a visit.

Randy was a quiet man, who shunned the limelight, but he was most often the first to arrive at a gathering, and one of the last to leave. Making sure a job was complete was his trademark. If that involved learning a new skill, well, that was a natural outgrowth of his upbringing in Ketchikan, at the southeastern tip of Alaska. Randy was also true blue.

It was my good fortune to have become familiar with Mr. Mitchell’s life and work and to have known Randy as a personal friend. May there more people who show themselves, like the scholar and the tradesman, as True Blue.

Time Frames

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April 9, 2026- I was the first person top arrive at Baha’i Feast, this evening. Sometimes, this is awkward, if the host is busy setting up at the last minute, but tonight’s host was gracious and we sat in conversation for several minutes, until the next few friends arrived. As it happened, they dawdled on the sidewalk and steps, finishing their own conversations, before entering. The host opened and closed the door a couple of times, before the friends were ready to come in.

I was raised to arrive on time, preferably five minutes early. On my own, I have adhered to that- and in Prescott, I made that ten minutes early, as many of the members of any given group were transplants from places where “if you’re on time, you’re late” was the mantra. In one situation, a few people decided they would be the first to arrive-and they were, getting to the gathering ( a breakfast) even before the cooks!

In my married years, Mr. On Schedule was happy with Last Minute Lucy. Penny was determined that she would finish what she was doing at home, before we set out for an engagement. That left a few feathers ruffled, over the years, but I always took her side. The punctualists, though I agreed with them in principle, came across like Der Burgermeister- more officious than humane.

Aram has grown to be committed to being on time, simply because,as with me, that strikes him as being courteous. Yunhee is usually ready to also be ahead of schedule. Hana, so far, goes by her body clock and wakes pretty much on time for every feeding, having enough energy to do some activities for an hour, or ninety minutes, after her meal. She is fairly easy to get to nap, when it’s time and sleeps pretty much through most nights.

I still wake with the birds and get to bed well before midnight, each day. The fullness of a day’s schedule, whether caring for my granddaughter or meeting an occasional appointment, is perfectly satisfying.

Bloodlines

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March 17, 2026- Today being St. Patrick’s Day, my thoughts go to the Irish heritage on both my mother’s and father’s sides. The Kusches, who hailed from Szcezcin, Poland, back when it was Stettin, Pomerania, ended up in St; Louis and Chicago, by the mid-19th Century. Papa Kusch journeyed east, as a young man, and became a shoemaker in Boston, and a small farmer in Saugus. Before they were Kusches, though, they were Cooks-in the area around Wexford, Ireland. Poverty, and the Hanseatic League’s allure, brought them to the Baltic shores. The family was proud of having been prosperous in Germany, and in the Midwest, and I heard little about our Irish roots, but I always felt a draw to the Emerald Isle. Mom had me pledge to look into her side of the family, when we talked of the genealogy that my Dad’s older brother had compiled. I thought that meant going to Pomerania, but last summer’s visit to Wexford, and nearby Rosslare, brief as it was, introduced me to a few people who looked strikingly like my mother and aunts. I later learned their family name was Cook. Part of me wants to go back and spend more time there, but that will need to wait.

My granddaughter will have far taller order, should she ever want to check out her roots. Half of her bloodline is Korean, and there are probably some Chinese ancestors. going way back. The other half is Heinz 57: German, English, Irish, French, Penobscot, Jewish, Lithuanian, Romanian, and Scottish. Her present and near term well-being, though, has me refocusing my energies. The journeys I undertake in the foreseeable future are all along the paths of introducing a little soul to the wider world.

That brings me to a separate point. There was once, at a Baha’i-sponsored conference in Florida, a zone set aside for protesters. Neo-Nazis and Black Separatists found themselves next to one another, in that small zone. There are, on both the Far Right and Far Left, those who today preach the credo of division. The truth about human relations is “whatever we say it is”, and any who call for reconciliation between ethnic groups or “racial” entities are accused of clinging to outmoded, discarded concepts. I beg to differ: It is the very divisions to which they cling that are outmoded, counterproductive and dangerous. Clothing them in academic jargon, or using tones of ridicule, do nothing to bring a longed-for peace. I have to wonder if peace is even what they want- or is conflict more alluring?

Regardless, as Hana and others of her generation show, bloodlines are no respecters of truly outmoded ideologies.

Cyclical

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February 20, 2026- I heard a few days ago, and read this morning, that with Saturn and Neptune converging astrologically at O degrees Aries, a 6000 year cycle has come to an end and that a new one has begun. Savvier people than I, with regard to astrology, will have a clearer understanding of what that means,in that particular sense.

I do know, though, that there is, and has been, a unifying energy around the planet, released in 1844 by al-Bab and energized even more in 1863, by Baha’ullah. Like most such processes, it has been slow to unfold, even with two world wars, several civil wars in various nations (including the United States), a global economic depression, a global pandemic and various countries choosing to live-for a time-under authoritarian rule. The unity of the human race, however, is sure to be one of the processes that arise out of this new cycle. It cannot be imposed on us. We must choose it for ourselves. Truthfully, though, I don’t see that we have many other options.

It was said, two days ago, that many shopworn institutions will continue to collapse and fade away, with new institutions, more fitting for this day and age, rising up to take their place. We certainly are seeing that-and I am not talking about models of Artificial Intelligence whose main feature is the exacerbation of human greed. I am talking more about grassroots efforts at improving the quality of life-from language preservation activities, to experiments in backyard farming, to co-operative small groups of parents raising children across familial lines,to alliances of countries that are not being organized by one or more “major powers” .

I want to mention that in my own life, another sea change has taken place. Just as in 1981-82, I became a Baha’i. left the Roman Catholic faith, relinquished alcohol dependency and entered into wedlock; as in 1986-92, we left the United States and learned to live in the beautiful land and culture of South Korea, becoming parents to a beautiful little boy; as in 2011, I laid my beloved wife to rest, let go of a house and community in Phoenix and moved to Prescott, traveling widely and also devoting many hours to community service, so now has the call of grandparenthood been answered and a new community become my Home Base.

One cycle ends, indeed, and another begins.

Composed

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February 7, 2026- Hana has decided she likes her bath. It helps that the weather has moderated and the bathroom does not have any draft coming in through the window. She is a warm weather girl, and is also very appreciative of being clean. She was happy through the bath tonight, and even more so for the feeding that came afterward. Food, at least the kind that comes with infancy, is definitely a big winner with Hana.

I hear that my own composed demeanour is rubbing off on her. After 75 years, I simply don’t see anything about which to lose composure. There are plenty of bad actors who’d like nothing better than to rattle everyone’s cage. I think it’s best that those folks just go back and get their own houses in order, especially if they wield power. We need not give them the satisfaction of keeping us unbalanced.

I was fortunate to have met several members of the Plano Baha’i Community, who are a cross section of generations. All but one of them is of Persian descent, all but one having come here after the Islamic Republic was established. The ongoing persecution of the Baha’is in Iran is also designed to take attention away from the thievery and self-aggrandizement of a relatively small class of people, who happen to be well-connected clerics, paramilitary and sycophants to the first two. Increasingly, though, the common folk are not buying the deception, especially if they happen to know Baha’is personally.

The vast majority of the Baha’is still in Iran are likewise composed, law-abiding citizens of that country, who have broken no laws, save the dictum that everyone should be Muslim, or certain approved Christian or Jewish organizations. Perhaps our composure comes from the realization that our physical lives are not the entirety of our existence-and that those who spend their physical power capital on the temporary control of the masses will come to rue the day they crossed certain lines.

I know I’ve lived a good life, by and large, and have learned from my mistakes, That alone justifies my composure.

Firmness

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February 6,2026- The gentleman introduced himself and grasped my hand firmly in his. He then asked, “How old do you think I am?” He looked to be about 80, so that was my guess. He said that he is 89. His mind is as keen as his handshake is firm. Thus, I have another role model to guide me through the next fourteen years of this life, God willing and the creek doesn’t rise.

I attended my Baha’i sector group’s observance of the Feast of Mulk (Dominion), making my first visit with members of my new Faith Community. We gather in the homes of those who have the space and wherewithal to host our spiritual Feasts (prayers, administrative reporting & consultation, and social fellowship). Holy Days, and the coming Ayyam-i-Ha (Intercalary Days), February 25=March 1, are celebrated in the Plano Baha’i Center, which I last visited three weeks ago.

Firmness in body is best matched by firmness in spirit and faith. Fervent Christians, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Hindus and adherents to Indigenous beliefs know this, as well. I am confident that humanity will continue to trend towards wider applications of both cogent, proven health practices and a more broad-based view of the Divine Plan for our planet. Contrived regimens, in either area, are appealing, especially to those who are skeptical of spiritual traditions and/or established health practices. A firm command of reality, however, calls for us to be discerning, yet open-minded, in investigating these matters. Charlatans are all too eager to lead people astray, by playing on fears.

Back at the house, I found that Hana and her mother were staying firm in their routine, and I settled in to help with the little angel’s night routine, while her father is at a monthly Reserve Drill.