Tag Archives: independence

The Hana Chronicles: Month 8, Day 15

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, Education, Family, Hiking and Nature, Historical, impediments, Inner Struggles, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, service, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

September 5, 2026- Hana carefully observed two visitors today. One was a fast-talking salesman, trying to drum up business for his pest control company. She smiled wanly at him, but didn’t offer her customary “Hi”. The second, a plumber, was here to look at an area of our concern. She smiled a lot more at him, and said “Hi”. My grandchild already has a sense of people.

She again talked a lot, and was glad that I sat down with her, while Mom and Dad were fixing dinner. I told her that I was glad she was using her teething ring, and she showed me the toy. Her top lateral incisors (canines) are coming in, and so she is chewing on a lot of teething rings-and a few things that aren’t.

HANA’S NOTE- I like to be able to choose my own activities. Papa lets me do that, so it’s fun to have him in the playpen.

YEAR IN REMEMBRANCE-2019 The day after the family wedding, last June, Aram asked Yunhee to marry him and she said “Yes”. They had a civil wedding in November of last year, on the island of Guam. On March 10, they had a Baha’i wedding, in Kwangju, South Korea. I was there, a few days early. The journey from Phoenix to Los Angeles was a lesson in patience (United left Phoenix two hours behind schedule), and I arrived at LAX, 90 minutes late, the result being that I was the last passenger to get on the plane for Seoul.

The wedding itself was small, by Korean standards, yet it was dignified and happy. The reception hall was full afterwards, and why not? The food was plentiful and tasty. Our family had now officially spanned the Pacific. I joined a family outing to Cheonju, a city with an interesting historic district and went with Aram and Yunhee’s father to a men’s spa. Gender-separate bath houses are very common in Korea. A day or two later, I flew back to the U.S. and my Korean family continued their Naval life.

I had cut ties with the unsettled woman, last October, after she threatened to see that I lost my job.. She nonetheless parked her RV at the park across the road from our little Quad. She never directly tried to pester me, but I knew I was being watched. That aside, I was starting to be affected by mold in my workspace; all of us-staff and students, were. It was affecting my judgment and my energy level. In late March, I threw my left knee out, taking a step down on stairs I had walked down dozens of times. It was a mild sprain, but after treatment and two weeks of P/T, I was okay again. In mid-April, though, a misunderstanding with another staff member led to my deciding to leave the Autism Program. The day that I resigned, the RV lady drove off and I have not seen her since.

In summer, I set out again on a cross-country journey- starting with a visit to an old friend in Coal Mine, AZ, then camping at Canyon de Chelly, before taking the customary northern route, through Albuquerque, Amarillo and Oklahoma, visiting with Xanga friends there. This time, though, I drove across Arkansas and Tennessee, visiting my friends in Crossville, then stopping in Chattanooga and Knoxville. I had Elantra serviced in Knoxville, then headed over to Asheville, NC, taking in that city’s elegant downtown. The road then took me to Tryon, NC, a town that I had briefly considered as a Home Base, sight unseen, in 2011. I might have been happy there, had Prescott not captivated me.

South Carolina brought satisfying visits to Columbia, Aiken, Hilton Head Island and Charleston. I took in Fort Sumter, another spot on Penny’s 2007 virtual field trip itinerary that we had not fulfilled. Back in North Carolina, I visited a Baha’i friend in Salisbury and stopped in Raleigh, to do laundry and spend time in the Capitol District. Another visit with dear Xanga friend in Virginia Beach, was followed by a drive across Chesapeake Bay to Cape Charles and Virginia’s Eastern Shore. It was fascinating top watch the ponies at Assateague, frolicking in the surf. Then came a stop in Dover, DE-the compact and delightful capital of the First State. My Oley stop followed, then up through PA to New York, and a visit to West Point-the last of the three Service Academies I’ve visited. My Dad had always wanted to go there, so I fulfilled his wish for him. Popeye Doyle (“The French Connection”) never went to Poughkeepsie-the foil in one of his throwaway lines in that movie. I spent a day or so in the town and in nearby Newburgh. Lovely area, along the Hudson River, though both cities were a tad rundown.

Going north, I decided to drive through Massachusetts’ southwest corner, stopping in the southern Berkshires, at Egremont. In Saugus, for Independence Day, saw fireworks and had quality time with Mom and my siblings. I made a return visit to Amherst, and my alma mater-University of Massachusetts, then toured Mt. Holyoke, a women’s university, south of town. Across Connecticut, I sopped in Danbury and spent time with that city’s Revolutionary War sites. The next main stops were Pittsburgh, for a Baha’i Holy Day gathering, Mishawaka, Chicago-for a night in Wrigleyville, near the Cubs Stadium, Wilmette, Wapello, IA, Kansas City and a small town named Satanta,KS. I paid respects to the fallen at Silver Creek, CO, a solemn cap to my sojourn.

Fall brought me back into substitute teaching, with a more connected sense of mission. I chose my assignments more discerningly, going forward.

The Hana Chronicles: Month 5, Day 21

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, Community, Family, impediments, Personal Values, Social, Striving

June 11, 2026- While Hana napped, this morning, I called my second brother, on the occasion of his birthday, He has lived an extraordinary life, learning skills needed to navigate daily life, whilst legally, then virtually blind. He worked as head of Kayem Meats’ financial division, until his retirement a few years ago. He took part in Sail Blind, in the 2010s, and I had the honour of sitting in an observation boat, for one of their sails, off Newport, RI, in 2013. His sons are doing well in life, and his grandchildren are navigating life’s challenges to the best of their abilities. I have seen him as a role model, more than once, in my own checkered career.

Hana continues to show signs of which direction she may follow, in the years ahead. She is into neatness, wiping her mouth with a bib or cloth after every other bite. She is also working on self reliance-holding her own spoon and steadying her bottle with both hands-though I continue to “assist” in guiding both.. She likes to hold books and studies each page carefully, for several minutes. She does not want me to flip the pages too quickly.

While she was napping, this afternoon, she seemed to have had a nightmare, shrieking several times. I was able to calmly talk to her and held her to convey that everything was alright, and that it was just a bad dream. It took a while, maybe seven or eight minutes, before she finally stopped whimpering. It’s always hard to know what a pre-lingual person dreams about, but whatever it was must have been a doozy. I’m just glad to be here for her, in happy moments and in scary ones.

Dancing Barbie, Tuna Stew and Songs in the Round

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, Family, impediments, Inspiration, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving

July 15, 2023- Barbie’s “mommy” gave her mother’s friend a gift bag, with a nice tall candle and a decorated card. Then, Barbie got to dance, do somersaults and yoga poses, all without complaint-as dolls are wont to do. Barbie finally got a rest, when her mommy got thirsty. Barbie’s mommy is on her way to being a strong, independent, thoughtful adult human.

That was how the evening started. Beforehand, I learned that my landlord was perfectly okay, as was the gentleman who fell, last night. As I suspected, heat prostration was at play, in both cases. I know how that works, having had my more rotund self experience it in 2012, whilst passing through Uvalde.

We did have a rather toasty day here, which didn’t get in the way of our team’s breakdown of the Farmers’ Market, thanks to sunscreen, proper desert headgear, plenty of water and our truck. Tomorrow will be another dose of July Fry, possibly reaching 119 in Phoenix, higher elsewhere in the Sonoran Desert and 102 here.

Getting back to the evening, I went to Raven Cafe for a Songwriters in the Round, set of performances by four engaging musicians, two of whom I’ve heard several times before. The tone was set, in the crowded room, by my thoroughly enjoying a new item: Basque Stew-which is tomato bisque with chunks of tuna, nicely stewed. I admit to being a bit apprehensive, as tuna has been either in a sandwich or in rolls of rice, as sushi, in my long experience with the meat. It was actually nicely spiced-and the fish was not overpowering.

I will let the Raven’s promo introduce Songwriters in the Round:

“Nashville-style songwriter rounds consist of 3 or 4 musicians trading songs and stories for an engaged audience of song lovers and supporters. This is our first one! Join us this Saturday as we see songwriters Tyller Gummersall, Stephy Leigh Griffin, Rachael Plays Guitar and Kevin Rueb step away from their bands to give you a raw and intimate glance into what it takes to be a songwriter.”

Stephy Leigh and Tyller have played, with their bands, at the Raven in the recent past. So, some of their songs were familiar-but done acoustically, sans bandmates, gave the tunes an entirely different, more intimate feel. Kevin, with a tongue-in-cheek, irreverent view of sexist behaviour by men-and its back-at-ya reaction from women, got rousing laughter from many of us, including his wife, who played along joyfully, during his hilarious take-down of the “Magic Mike” phenomenon. Rachael was the most soulful, directly-sharing of her experiences, and made no apologies for doing so. I look forward to her “Album Launch” concert, at the end of next month. I would gladly go to see any of these folks, time and again.

Time goes on, whether days are hot, cold or the great in-between; whether spent hither or yon; whether productive or laconic. Each day brings its gifts and each day exacts its costs. So do I take the best of what life brings, along with its expectations for recompense. On balance, I’d say this life is a bounty.

How Far?

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Posted by on in collaborating, distraction issues, Family, impediments, Inner Struggles, Personal Values, Social, Striving

March 2, 2020-

Chris Matthews retired as host of the news show, “Hardball”, with this evening’s broadcast. He’s not someone I have watched very much, if at all.  Talking over one’s guests isn’t something that would have gone over well, when I was growing up.

He comes to mind for a different reason, though. One of the things he is reported to have said this evening, is that he was sorry for constantly telling the women on his program that they were beautiful.

It took  many years, but a former student of mine pointed out, a bit sarcastically, that this is not the first thing a woman, or a girl for that matter, wants to hear about herself, first.  I began, at that point, to think more of the actual skills the person has, and of how to compliment those.  Beauty is not a skill, so however attractive I might find someone, the sensible thing is to focus on what can keep her in the loop, can help her grow.

We might think, in this month that celebrates Women’s History, of just how far we have come, as a species, in the area of gender relations.  My grandparents’ generation would have been mortified, had women gone out on the street in slacks, less-than-full length skirts or, God-forbid, shorts.  Women rarely drove cars.

My parents’ generation saw women exercising more options, when it came to dress, and certainly most women drove cars.  Working outside the home was one area on which progress was a bit lacking-other than teachers, secretaries, cashiers and nurses.

There was a lot of  “break-out”, both socially and vocationally, with my generation.  The Women’s Liberation Movement took me aback, when I got home from Vietnam, in 1971, though it might not have. Young Vietnamese girls were telling us that they heard “Mi “(American) girls were thinking more for themselves, and therefore they, the Vietnamese, expected to do the same. There was an incident where a girl told me I was not her type.  The other guys at the table about fell out of their seats.  I left her alone; then again, I did that routinely in the States, so it was nothing new, for me. For a girl in southeast Asia, though, it was a big step forward.

When women started opening doors for men, letting us board buses first and talking fiercely about not wanting to be on a pedestal, it began to sink in that this Movement was resulting in lasting change, however maudlin it appeared.  It was the beginning of the end for “Prince Charming”, who actually ended up being a villain in one of the more contemporary Disney films.

That has suited me just fine.  I was married to a woman who eclipsed me, intellectually, and, since her passing, have preferred the company of women friends who have clear goals, and make no excuses for their dreams and their drive-in fact, who make no excuses for anything in their lives.

While there is much to be done, as yet, I would answer the question, “How far have we come, in the area of gender relations?”, by saying how proud I am to be in the company of so many who are sure of themselves and can be persistent, with no fear of being pushed back into the corner.

 

Tales of the 2016 Road: My Eastern Anchor

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Posted by on in Family, Historical, Personal goals, Personal Values, Striving

July 8-9, 2016, Saugus-  I’ve mentioned before about this town of 40,000 people having been the springboard for the American steel industry, as it was the site of the first fully-operating Ironworks in British North America.

For me, it was also a springboard.  Though I was nowhere near as polished or as strong as the iron that came out of Saugus Ironworks, I have thrived, because of what I learned here.

My mother grew up on a small farm, north, northwest of the Ironworks site.  When she was a child, there was no National Historical Park, such as exists today.  The place was unearthed in the early 1950’s, when lower Lynnhurst was being prepared for a housing scheme.  The town leaders were wise enough to see to its unearthing, and preservation- a chance to get some of the Boston-Salem-Gloucester tourism traffic.  This led to Route 1 becoming one of the roads designated “The Great White Way”, for all the neon that reminded visitors of New York’s Broadway, as restaurants sprang up from the Revere line  to Peabody, 8 miles further north.  Yet, I digress.

Mom was the main reason for my visit here.  I would still have spent time with my amazing brother, a legally-blind sailor and bon vivant.  Mom, though, is still a force of nature, in late octogenaresis.  She is actually feeling and doing better than when I saw her in December.  She has always been about independence. She let me know where I need to work on myself, and it’s true that I have slacked off a bit, exercise-wise.  Choosing to spend most of the past several days driving, and not getting out and walking much- except for Bushkill Falls, is a habit I tend to embrace when going cross-country.  Habits can be broken, though.

I, like most people, want to feel my mother’s approval.  She has held the bar relatively high, all these years, but not out of spitefulness or malice.  Had I not been encouraged, at times cajoled, I would not be standing here today as a man of 34 years’ sobriety, or as one who puts the good of the whole above my own comfort.  She is my anchor, on the East.

So, I spent a fair amount of time just being present, watching the same reassuring TV films we saw last December- a fact she found amusing- “Why can’t Lifetime be more ambitious than to recycle the same canned stories, over and over?”  When it came time for me to go back on the road, she was a bit somber-but life for Lila Mae Boivin will go on- and she’s determined it will have quality.  There is no finer example, even for a man in late middle age, than someone who embraces the place in life, at which she finds herself.

Her last words to me were “Drive safely”.  These words proved prescient.

NEXT:  The demise of Nissan Altima.

 

 

The Road to 65, Mile 257: Desert Wildfire, Day 3

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Posted by on in Assistance, Service Activities, Social

August 12, 2015, Mohave Valley-  Wherever there are unicorns, there are also dragons.  Where there is joy, sorrow and rage are not far away. Light is accompanied by shadow. I prefer, I insist, that the former will outlast the latter, because that’s how life goes on.

The fire has been reduced to hot spots, which are being monitored, 24/7, by a very capable local fire department.  As always happens in a community that prides itself on independence, there is gratitude towards the local first responders, and grumbling towards the Federal presence, in this case, the Bureau of Land Management.  A government that seems distant, both physically and ideologically, is an easy target, and so it has been here.  The perception, among many who have come by for food, clothing and comfort is that the Feds didn’t seem to care about them, or about their property.  The Gold King mine mishap is thrown in, for good measure, as “eventually, that stuff will find its way down here, en route to the Gulf of California.”

It’s hard for people who are themselves overwhelmed, to see the situations of others- no matter which rung of the ladder we occupy.  I was fortunate to have been raised by parents who instilled the viewing of the situation of the other, in me.  Being the oldest of five made it more urgent.

Having to deal with the local bete noire, yesterday, put this whole concept to the test.  I went through six months, last winter and spring, of being patient and forbearing with someone whom nobody else seemed to want.  These folks are sent to us by a Creator Who desires only to see our full potentials realized.  This, I understand; it was just that, at the end of a long day in the heat, I had trouble waiting for a well-rested, fastidious case worker to complete the process with a needy, isolated and very edgy outcast.  I went back to the truck, turned on the A/C, and saved myself, while keeping the window cracked open enough to hear what was going on.  She completed the matter, thirty minutes later, and the four of us left the man, who felt more accepted, and headed home.  I guess this is one of the lessons that Christ meant to impart, when He worked on Lazarus, and on Mary Magdalene.

There are issues in any community, on any given street, and within any household which has more than one occupant.  In the Fire This Time, we, as a team, did well by the town of Mohave Valley.  After a day largely spent cleaning the gym floor of the temporarily closed Mohave Valley Elementary School, three of us volunteers headed home.  As we left town, a swirl of burned-out desert dust rose high in the air, causing our Team Lead to call in a “possible re-sparked fire”.  It turned out to be just a dust devil, with burned material, almost giving us a farewell, of sorts.

We stopped up the road apiece, at Westside Lilo’s, a homey, relaxed German restaurant, in Seligman, and decompressed with some fine sandwiches, served by an engaging and spirited young woman.  I always enjoy a good bratwurst, and a pretty smile.  The rain, which our driver had feared, seems to have preceded us, and it was an easy drive back to Prescott.

Goodnight, and it looks like tomorrow will be a bit of a respite, before the next big thing.