Tag Archives: marriage

The Hana Chronicles: Month 7, Day 10

0
Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, Education, Family, Hiking and Nature, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

July 31, 2026- We couldn’t go for our walk today, because two of us over the age of 30 forgot to take the stroller out of the trunk, when we got back from the doctor’s, on Wednesday. Hana occupied herself nicely, using me as a support in pulling herself up to a standing position, several times today. This is something she want to do on her own and she will get it accomplished. I would say that, at this rate, she will be standing, pretty easily, by the middle of August.

Her speech is also rapid fire and sounds fairly specific, though much of it is babbling, still. “Mama”, “Oma”, “Apa”, “Daddy”, “Dada”, “Mommy” and “Papa” are all spoken with regularity. “I want”, “I don’t want”, “Yeah” and “”I love” also are clearly pronounced.

HANA’S NOTE- I really, really, really want to walk. I like standing up. I can see so much more.

YEAR IN REMEMBRANCE-1983 My paternal grandmother was someone I thought would live forever. A month shy of her 84th birthday, Nana was choking on something,at a Senior Center lunch. A well-meaning gentleman intervened, and performed a Heimlich procedure on her. It didn’t have the desired effect and she had to be hospitalized. She died shortly thereafter. Nana lived to see 49 grandchildren and at least a dozen great-grandchildren. One of those grandchildren preceded her in death. The rest of us honoured her memory.

Penny and I settled into Tuba City, and into our work. We were regulars at a coffee house that was put on each week, at the Episcopal Church. We had people over for dinner, at least once a week and taught those who were interested, about the Baha’i Faith. One comment, from a video store operator, who was a member of Four Square Gospel, still sticks in my memory: “All religions follow the same God?” That is indeed our story, and we’re sticking to it.

We also traveled around the Southwest: Pipe Spring, Colorado City and Lake Havasu City (for Christmas), in Arizona; on our First Anniversary-Durango to Silverton, Colorado (on the Narrow Gauge Railroad); Chama,Rio Grande Gorge, Taos and Santa Fe, New Mexico and several Baha’i-sponsored events, from Phoenix and Casa Grande to Jemez Springs and Crystal, New Mexico. In the Fall, my brother, Glenn, married his sweetheart, Barbie. So we made the trip back to Massachusetts, at the height of foliage season. It was sweet.

We did very well, as a couple, during this first year of wedlock.

Pause, and Reflect

8
Posted by on in collaborating, Community, Inner Struggles, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving

November 8, 2024- The ice in her words was palpable and almost debilitating. They seemed to have come out of nowhere, but the message was unmistakable. So I told her that her wishes will always be respected.

I have fallen deeply in love with only two women who were not responsible for my birth and upbringing. One gave me the best years of her life, and I gave back, to the best of my ability. It was hard to let her go, at the end, and for two years afterward, I even saw her in people I barely knew-leaving temporary wreckage in my wake. We all survived and recovered, and I thank dear Penny’s spirit for my survival.

I did not see the second one coming, but little more than a year ago, there she was. I had not gone to that place on the far side of the Pacific to find a wife, but I was smitten from the moment she walked in the room. A year’s worth of messages followed and I at least got to take her on a couple of daytime dates, on my last visit. I was prepared to move to that place, and relinquish all that I had gathered here-Home Base, vehicle and other possessions, and to bid farewell to so many friends. I only wanted to be with her, not out of fantasy or obsession, but out of a deep love.

I did not see the end coming, until the messages came this morning-First, a disembodied asexual voice: “It’s over”; then the words, discouraging me from continuing with my move and someone else’s message: “You’d only be in her way”. Family and friends here have warned me not to get too wrapped up in my feelings. They know that there are too many things that can go wrong-in a relationship that is hobbled by time, distance and cultural differences. I know that, too, and it takes some of the sting out of what happened this morning.

In the end, I had four different obligations-each relatively minor, but needing attention, nonetheless. So, I got myself together, went to Bellemont Baha’i School and checked the winterization process-completed; went to two different VA offices and called a third, regarding the discrepancy with one of my health care provider’s records; returned a call from one of the potential movers to the intended country and will get a quote from them next week, for good measure and took care of a bill that I had spaced out, last week. This evening, friends hugged me and said it was too bad. Music, at a small house party and at the Raven Cafe, helped to further lighten my mood.

It was a nice run, though, and it restored my self-confidence, even if it turned out too good to be true. I will love K forever, and life will go on.

Metro Manila, Day 7: The Envelope Girl

2
Posted by on in collaborating, impediments, Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Personal goals, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving

September 17, 2024, Manila- The little girl clutched her assigned supply of envelopes and note cards with one hand and held onto my arm with the other. She desperately wanted to get some pocket change, which I could have spared-but for the fact that a boy appeared, also carrying envelopes and note cards-and it is pretty much guaranteed that ten more “vendors”, along with a few pickpockets, would have surfaced, in short order. I walked along, with a platonic friend who is like a sister to me, and the little angel still clinging to my arm. No one got anything from me, and after I said “Palaam” (goodbye), at the corner, the pair hung back, looking surprised, but resigned.

Many of us, in the course of our lives, are like the Envelope Girl and her partner in grift. We hope for something from another person-whether it is commerce, approval, friendship or even some level of romance. Sometimes-oftentimes, we can get what we want. On other occasions, the answer is “No”, or “Maybe, just not right now”.

I have been both seeker and sought, plenty of times. Growing up, I was a well-liked, but never loved, adolescent-a permanent resident of what is nowadays called “The Friend Zone”.

There is no Friend “Zone”. There are only friends, those towards whom one feels fondly, with whom one is glad to share good times, thoughts and experiences. There are levels of friendship, from “acquaintance” (whatever that is) to a marital bond-and many levels in between. I can’t, however, recall any person in my life who has been consigned to a limited, stifling place in my world. There have been false friends, whose design was either transactional (like the street urchins above) or vengeful(their whole shtick being to teach me a lesson). Those have been let go, blocked/deleted. There have been those who have been physically attracted to me, but the converse has not been true-and we have managed to build solid, platonic/fraternal bonds. The same is true of many to whom I have been drawn-and the converse has also been true.

At the top of the scale, there are two: Penny, my departed wife, and a person to whom I have made several references, of late. Penny was, when we first met, immediately in full-on attraction mode, (as was I, to her). That settled into a period of retraction, during which she had space to deal with residual feelings towards former beaux, a dalliance with a more dashing suitor and sorting out all manner of conflict between making a commitment and having “freedom”. My feelings never went away, but I stayed in the background, as long as she needed me to. After 18 months, we were married, had a solid, if sometimes stormy, wedlock and I was by her side through it all-including thirteen years of physical and cognitive decline, as I have described in earlier posts.

I met K last year, and had the same immediate attraction. Time will tell, if the friendship will approach the level that Penny and I reached. There are many variables, and all I can say is that my feelings aren’t going away, even as my person gives her the space that I gave Penny. A beloved soul deserves no less. Our lives will continue, will remain full and our goals-both mutual and separate-will be achieved. No two people, no matter how drawn to one another, can possibly meld into a unit where one is indistinguishable from the other. “Between them is a barrier that they overpass not.”-Baha’u’llah.

It has been a wonderful ride, to this point. I’m here, if she needs me.

The Fighter Still Remains

2
Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, Family, impediments, Inner Struggles, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving

March 22, 2024- Dad would have been 97 today. So, I spent a fair amount of time remembering what he taught me, of life, survival and responsibility. He himself was not a physically rough man, and discouraged any such behaviour in his four sons. He was a traditionalist, with regard to Mom working outside the home, but never stood in her way, when it came to her running a hairdressing and cosmetology practice, with the kitchen as her shop. He also let her handle the household budget, while in his own right, he was sensibly frugal. He taught us to figure out what the unit value of what we were selling was-whether it was the family newspaper route, which I had for two years and passed on to my middle brother, and he to brother # 3, or retail offerings. He showed us three oldest boys, and our sister, how to change a tire and change the motor oil and filter. I also watched as he gapped spark plugs. When the horn beeped, on a Thursday evening, all hands were on deck, going out to carry the groceries into the house, and we helped Mom put them away.

He also taught me to stand my ground; again, not violently, but with resolve. It is that on which I have drawn, in a variety of situations, over the past five decades-more effectively some times than on other occasions, but as consistently as I knew how, at the given time. It’s easier now, though the challenges are more nuanced, slightly more muddled, than in my earlier life. As I have branched out, and traveled both domestically and internationally, people have, on occasion, pushed the boundaries of my dignity and worth. At other times, the fight has been within myself, and has required more focus, more resolve.

Looking back, I was not the greatest of fathers, in my own right, but I did offer my son the basics in how to value work, treat others fairly and to take pride in self. I could have been a better husband, but I never strayed and took care of Penny, in her time of infirmity. In her prime, I honoured and valued her as a full partner, a strong, productive human being in her own right. My filial devotion could have been more strongly expressed, even while Mom has been, and is, fiercely independent. I would be at her side in short order, though, if the call came, even if I am 24-hours away at the time it comes. My treatment of friends and family could be better, yet they know I am loyal and that I cherish their dignity and worth-and, from the woman I love most, to the most casual in my friendship circle, value their achievements.

Above all, when it is a matter of their safety, survival and basic well-being, I will stand with any of them-and all of them. No one messes with my circle. Not unlike the character in Paul Simon’s song, the fighter still remains.

Dualities

2
Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, Family, impediments, Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Personal goals, Personal Values, Social, Striving

February 15, 2023- It has been said that freedom is bondage, and enslavement, freedom. How can either be so? Let’s think for a moment. Freedom to act does come with a set of rules, such as honouring the responsibilities that derive from it. One may drive a motor vehicle, after completing training required by one’s state, province or prefecture of residence. From that point on, each time one operates said vehicle, there are responsibilities-to fellow drivers, to pedestrians and animals who are using the road, to property owners along the road, and to the proprietors of the road itself. Maintaining safe practices is the trade-off for the privilege of driving.

Courting and marrying another human being is also a privilege. It comes with very definite responsibilities-to honour that person’s humanity and to regard the person as a full partner, in everything, large and small, that has to do with your life together. As Penny often said, “Consultation is finding out.” The procreation and raising of children, financial moves and just the planning of a given day, are all within the purview of consultation with one’s life partner. There are also responsibilities to the extended family, to at least show them courtesy, on a consistent basis.

I thought of this, while pondering that getting out of bed in the morning is a trade-off-Giving up the comfort of covers for the joy of starting a new day. There is much more to be said, but I must get going with said day.

United and Independent

2
Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, Family, impediments, Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving

January 16, 2021-

Today, my focus has been on two things: Sharing things I no longer need and attending to the unity of all life. I am presently reading Amalia Camateros’ “Spirit of the Stones”, an account of her life that focuses on her growth as an embodied soul and deep connection with the elements of Earth: Air, water, mineral and fire. Amalia is a native of Australia, whose primary connection with North America has been with Sedona, our sister city to the northeast.

In one chapter, she relates her most intense visit to Cathedral Rock, perhaps the most energy-laden of the Sedona area’s many vortices. She describes the promontory as appearing to be two souls, standing back to back-united and independent. The standing rocks are often described by those who have spent time on Cathedral Rock as representing a man and a woman- married, but also each their own person.

That set me to thinking: I was in such a marriage, and when one of us needed the other most, we were inseparable. No pun intended, we were one another’s rock. I am seeing more married adults, among my circle of friends, celebrating their spouses. This is a reverse of what I used to see, from the ’90s into the 2010s, though I know many will reply: “I’ve always been in love with my spouse.” There was more bickering, not so many years ago, and I sense that, with life hard enough as it is, people are realizing what matters most in life.

There is also a rise in the understanding that each human being is a unique soul and that there is no ownership of one by another. Even the use of “my”, in reference to a spouse, or even a child, is fading. Not that many years ago, I was taken to task for using the term “my wife”. The critic was right, though not for the reason he gave (“Only a misogynist would claim to own a woman”). No one owns anyone else, period. It has nothing to do with a person’s psychosexual baggage. Words do matter, though, and when rererring to one’s beloved, children or family members, it’s become my wont to use given names-as well as relationships- end of digression.

Getting back to the blend of unity and independence, the other revelation that came today was with regard to the process of global unity. It must come from the ground up. No downwardly imposed world order will last long. As a community is only as strong as its families, so a planetary order will depend on strong individual nations, each committed to work with the others. This will largely depend, at least initially, on the human race taking the wisdom of the ancients and blending it with the native adaptability of children, in solving novel problems. (I saw this ability, this past week, with a new focus).

The days and months ahead will likely see a clash, of sorts, between those who favour the present, conventional ways of doing things and those who favour such a blend of knowledge, as is described above. There is, though, a new energy taking root.

Tempests

2
Posted by on in collaborating, Community, Inspiration, Personal Values, Social, Striving

October 24, 2020-

Thoughts on a day well-spent, and the memories conjured:

The young man reflected on times recently endured,

as we rode to and from his former home.

The tempest has calmed,

everywhere but in his memory.

Progress, though, is an insistent taskmaster,

and will chase his storms away.

A long ago student of mine

played story-songs,

to a transient audience,

coming and going in the evening coolness.

He learned more,

outside of the school where we shared

frustration and challenge,

dealing with the antiquated system

and its remnants.

The tempests of racism and false superiority

still cause pain in his heart.

So long ago, yet still irksome

in my heart, as well.

I recall the storms which tossed

the lives of innocent children,

just by reason of their indigenous heritage,

seen as a threat,

to the self-styled dominant culture.

Live music brings to mind,

all you could have achieved,

little one.

You would have been thirty, this year,

perhaps with a legacy

of having walked barefoot as a teenager,

having gone to the college of your choice,

and having given full vent to all your musical passions.

Maybe you would have been guided down the aisle,

leaving the first loving man in your life,

for another, forever love.

You would have made a soulful, loving Mommy.

Most importantly, you would have been a powerful force,

in whatever filed your adult self chose to pursue.

The tempest in another person’s life

led to all those dreams, being snuffed out,

when you were only six.

Tempests raged, in my own true love’s life,

as other storms raged in mine.

We traded storms, and came through a few,

as onlookers clucked and tut-tutted,

with no true understanding,

of the love that guided us,

to a measure of calm and certitude.

Let the tempest that rages now,

in the life of a sorely-tried nation,

find its way to being settled.

Peace shall come to the people.

Niners

2
Posted by on in distraction issues, Family, impediments, Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Personal goals, Striving

April 18, 2019-

Age nine found me whimsical,

lost ever in my own thoughts,

save when it came to lessons,

in Mrs. Kimball’s class.

Age nineteen found me lackadaisical,

flitting in and out of other people’s lives,

with no thought as to my effect on them.

Age twenty-nine found me desultory,

often lost in the bottle,

floating along Arizona’s highways,

or the backroads of the  wider West,

yet making a stab at conveying math,

to myself and my students.

Age thirty-nine found me devoted,

to my wife and toddler son.

The fragrance of Jeju,

and the progress of my English-teacher candidates,

filled out my world.

Age forty-nine found me wary,

of any and all politicians,

of a wayward shaman,

whose stated goal was

to bring about my ruin.

Age fifty-nine found me crumbling,

about to lose the most important

person in my life,

to the dis-ease that had

stalked her,

for over fifty years.

Age sixty-nine is seven months off,

yet it may well find me

in a state of flux.

Regardless,

I know my life is aimed

towards wholeness,

towards growth,

ever looking past

mere survival.

 

Eight Years

11
Posted by on in Family, Poetry, Spiritual

March 5, 2019-

On that quiet morning,

your spirit filled our room.

I knew the life we shared

was about to end.

Your body,

ten miles away,

in a lonely hospice room.

was left behind,

and you traveled alone,

to the Placeless,

even as our son and I

were hastening towards

your somber abode.

With a swirl of wind,

dust and leaves,

you greeted us,

soaring upward,

in farewell.

Each of us embraced,

the still remains,

of the love of my life,

whilst comforted

in the knowledge

of suffering’s end.

 

Throwback Thursday and Desert Shrimp

16
Posted by on in animal and plant life, collaborating, Family, Personal Values, Slow Food, Spiritual, Striving

December 6, 2018, Prescott-

Thirty-eight years ago, today, I met the woman who would change my life, immeasurably, for the better.  Penny and I met in a crowded and very simple house, in Zuni, NM, on the night of a house blessing (known as Shalako). We shared a chair, taking turns sitting down and nodding off, during the all-night ceremony.

We ended up sharing everything else, for close to thirty years, all but one of those years as husband and wife.  As I’ve said before, she’s still looking out for me, in ways large and small, since her passing in March, 2011.

SAMSUNG CAMERA PICTURES

Above, we are flanked by my parents, on our wedding day, June 6, 1982.

We shared many of the same tastes in food, among other things.  We both appreciated healthy and unadulterated ingredients. So, I think she would have liked Desert Sweet Shrimp. https://arizonashrimp.com/

I purchased a pound of these gems, over a month ago, and made two great meals out of them.  The first order of business, when preparing shrimp for a fine repast, is to shell the Caridea (the correct name of the creatures which are bred in this series of well-derived ponds, in Gila Bend, AZ).  Shelling can be done in a variety of ways- the easiest of which is to soak the shrimp in beer, for 8-10 hours. This leads to the shell falling off, almost automatically. I chose to shell each one individually, sans bier, so as to get a feel for the relationship between the shell and the flesh.  Deveining follows, no matter what method one uses for removing the shell.  Deveining means removing the receptacle holding the shrimp’s fecal matter, so it’s a VERY important step.  The Caridea are then rinsed, at least twice, before being added to a recipe.  It took me an hour to properly prepare the shrimp for cooking. Below is an image (Courtesy of Arizona Shrimp Company-all rights reserved) of the actual shrimp that I purchased.

Super_Jumbo_298eccd1-3fe9-46e7-94b1-5b6d9814932d_590x

I prepared most of the shrimp in sopa de camarones (“shrimp soup”), using green onions, chili powder, turmeric and sea salt.   It’s been a favourite of mine, since I first ate it in Puerto Penasco, Sonora, nearly forty years ago.  I used the rest in a small scampi dish, using a recipe posted on In Diane’s Kitchen, https://wordpress.com/read/blogs/114793426/posts/27651 , on September 13.

Both were exquisite meals, which gave me sustenance for over a week.    I hope to visit the actual facility, during a few days in the West Valley and Gila Bend, right after New Year’s.  I also hope the company will continue a presence at Prescott Farmers’ Market, next spring and summer.

This is the first of a series of posts honouring the festive, and deeper, aspects of the great December holidays.    NEXT:  Prescott’s Acker Night.