Gratitude, After Facing the Strange

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May 28, 2022- The strange part came early this morning, before I awoke, In the dream, I was carrying my maternal grandmother around and showing her her old house, her daughters, including my mother, and one of her daughters-in-law. The last scene was of one of my paternal uncles, and two of his sons, arriving at the house, where another of my paternal uncles was fixing a meal for everyone.

Grandma died in 1960, but my memories of her have always been strong. All my maternal aunts, save one, have also passed on. All of my paternal uncles, save two, are gone, as are the two cousins in the scenario. All the uncles and aunts in the dream are among the departed. Mom is very much alive. I have a great deal more to do, over the next several years, and I don’t want to stick her with burying another child, so I am not putting a whole lot into the dream, other than maybe I need to keep their memories alive.

On this run-up to Memorial Day, I am focused on my gratitude. These include good health, good friends, a healthy and well-balanced family, a clear vision of things, and knowing that there are places across this continent and in at least two others, where I will ever be welcome. Prescott is a salubrious Home Base; I have a good, solid place to live and a well-built vehicle to get me places-especially after I tend to its needs, at the end of next week. I am grateful for the team that handles my finances. I am eternally grateful to the Team that guides my soul. My blessings include the children, animals and vegetation that enrich this life, the rocks and water that colour it and the music that ever flows, when my ears are open to its melodies.

Gratitude is king!

The Ephemeral Gains

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May 31, 2021- Someone, writing about Memorial Day, recounted the most significant things about his time in the Armed Forces, especially with regard to Iraq. His love of the pomp and circumstance, esprit de corps and the camaraderie that he found in each of his units was reflected throughout the essay. One statement he posits, however, is particularly curious- “It’s the unbreakable bond that only war can provide.”

War certainly does form unbreakable bonds. It can also form unbreakable barriers. It is also not the only means to build such bonds. Any number of shared struggles can do the same, and not all are calamitous in nature. Any gains made by a fight to the death are, in fact, ephemeral.

Some will argue that the current territorial condition of the United States was made possible primarily by warfare. That, in its initial increments, is largely true. However, the initial victors have had to either fight a series of subsequent conflicts, either as declared wars or as acts of political chicanery. This has been true of every conflict faced by the United States, with the possible exception of World War II-and even it did not address the totalitarian threat posed by Communism-or the lingering residue of state-sponsored racism and anti-Semitism.

Building societies and social bridges can certainly construct unbreakable bonds along with them. It just takes a whole lot more enlightenment than we’ve seen in the past.

Knowing Places

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May 30, 2020

Today was the traditional Memorial Day, observed each year, until President Nixon set up a “streamlined” observance, for the fourth Monday in May, each year-beginning with 1971’s commemoration.

It struck me, today, that each of us conducts our affairs, our personal business, our honouring of others and even our leisure activities, largely based on what we perceive as our place in the world. That place, in times past, was determined, not so much by oneself, but by whosoever was deemed “in charge” of us- as in the Victorian Era and Twentieth Century dictum: “Children shall be seen and not heard.” or, even more rudely put-“A woman’s place is in the kitchen.”

I’ve been told, at least once, during this pandemic, “STAY HOME!”. The person making that demand has no say in my life, whatsoever, so I take the demand with several grains of salt. As long as I maintain distance from those who I know are at risk of infection, and practice recommended hygiene and PHYSICAL distancing, it’s no one’s business how much time I spend between these four walls.

My place is this world has always been fluid, and remains so. There is also a truism: “Those who stand for nothing, will fall for anything.” I will keep on with a full regimen of activities, both within my Home Base, in the community and, as life inches forward, go with the utmost safety to certain places which have re-opened, provided there is not an air of recklessness in said locales.

Anymore, children should be taught to speak thoughtfully and a woman’s place, a swell as a man’s, is wherever s(he) deems fit.

The Silence

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May 25, 2020-

The silence, today, was truly deafening.

There were few speeches,

anywhere in the nation.

There were no mass gatherings

of Scouts, Gold Star families,

Scottish Piper Regiments,

and surviving veterans.

all placing flags,

at gravesites.

There were several picnics

and barbecues,

people in boats,

people in swimsuits,

people wishing one another,

“Happy” Memorial Day.

It’s de rigeur, anymore.

I recall the Memorial Days

of my childhood,

watching a parade,

then going to place flowers

at the gravesites

of my grandfathers

and Grama.

There was a quiet,

the rest of the day,

and I recall reflecting,

sometimes worrying about

mortality.

I’m not sure when

things started to change.

Maybe it was the

unpopularity

of our involvements

in the wars that came

after Korea.

There will always be that debate,

but this remains:

Those who went,

and did not come back

alive,

did not make policy.

They deserve better,

than “Happy Memorial Day”.

All gave some;

some gave all.

As We Rise

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April 15, 2020-

Many parts of the world are slowly, carefully seeing the retreat of COVID-19.  Others, especially in the United States and Russia, have yet to see the disease peak, though it’s coming.  There have been several approaches to the threat, most have worked, for the people in the areas in which they have been implemented.  The concept of “One size fits all” may very well end up being shown the door, when this is all over.

It is never too soon to PLAN, to have several contingencies for the months ahead.  The school year is finished, yet there are likely to be summer sessions. Whether the services of substitutes will be needed then is a good question.

My friends in the restaurant and coffee houses around town are unlikely to even consider re-opening for in-house services, until close to Memorial Day weekend. The hospitalizations must peak, and decline, before that would be prudent.  I am supporting several of them, with take-out orders, in the meantime.

The hard-working staff of the Farmers’ Market are maintaining a food box service, over the next few weeks, at least.  They may be able to re-open the full market, next month, but the hospitalization peak will impact their decisions, as well.

My own meanderings will be rather tentative, anywhere outside of the immediate area, until there is a clear indication that the danger is passing and that my presence will not be more of a hindrance than an encouragement.  Red Cross deployment remains a possibility, as even with the virus subsiding, the hurricane season is seven weeks away and tornadoes have certainly not taken any time off.

The quarantine has given rise to the popularity of virtual meetings, so anywhere I happen to be, into summer and fall, will not impede the vital work that has been initiated here, during the course of the past four weeks.  My inclination is to mostly stay close by, though.  No one wants to be part of a second or third wave of COVID19.

We will cast off some of our old practices and adopt new ones.  Which will be which, is long in evolution.  I only know that we will rise back.  The spirit of the nation,  of the planet, of humanity, will  not be denied.

Altogether Fitting and Proper

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May 27, 2019-

The morning dawned,

and all were present.

The rain was here,

to bless the events of the day ahead.

The clouds lingered overhead,

to offer the promise

of further blessings.

The Sun peeked,

to let us know

that there is

always hope.

The politicians are here,

to show that they

at least appreciate

our right to be freely represented.

Friends are here,

to remind me

that I’m not alone.

Foes and naysayers are here,

to remind me

that no one

can meet everyone

else’s expectations

and wants.

Conservatives are here,

to maintain the best

of what we have.

Liberals are here,

to ensure that society

does not remain

uniformly static.

Children are here,

because mankind has

a bright future.

Seniors are here,

to share the better part

of our immediate past.

The choirs, male and female,

are here,

because everyone has

a voice that is

worth hearing.

My mind is here,

to keep a lid

on the whimsies

that sometimes

threaten

to carry me off.

Memories and appreciation

will remain.

Thank you, for having been, my grandparents,

my father, little brother,

departed aunts, uncles, cousins and friends.

Thank  you for your service,

Uncles Carl, Ernie, Charlesie, Jimmy,Eddie, Tom, Bob , Sonny, Al and John;

Aunt Toddy; Cousins Gordon Spousta and Mike Madigan;  friends Stan Egan, Dicky

Devine,”Little” Charlie Stack, Mike Kmita, Paul Smith, Lori Ann Piestewa.

On this day, all who served with honour are to be honoured themselves,

for having given the supreme sacrifice-either dying in combat,

or later, from its effects.

Mr. Lincoln had it right:  It is altogether fitting and proper, that we give such remembrance.

 

 

Relevant

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May 26, 2019, Phoenix-

With tomorrow being rather a full day of honouring the departed, back in Prescott, I made this afternoon a time to place flowers and spend some time at Penny’s grave site.  Although I feel her presence constantly, and don’t crowd her spirit life with constant thoughts of what might have been, it is still the mark of a human being to honour loved ones who have gone on.

I’ve thought further about my latest ruminations on friendship.  Each and every one I call friend has at least one particular relevance in my life, and several have more.  Whether a person is primarily a friend-in-Faith, has a role in my health regimen (including the person I met yesterday), is an intellectual match or is tied to me through social networks, alone, each is someone who is of value.

I am past the thrashing about, that seemed to take shallow root, in the two years after Penny passed.  I am not going to follow  third-party hints about pursuing a relationship with someone, when that person herself is not the one dropping those hints.  That, to me, is borderline harassment.

Where I am now is finding my way forward, and keeping my ties to each of my friends based on mutual respect and nurturance.  Whether I see a friend almost every day, once in a while, once a year, or only contact online-the principle is the same.  You have my heart.

 

 

The 2018 Road: Honours, Learnings and Observations- Part 1

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September 2, 2018, Prescott-

The forty-day journey, whose chronicle I have just completed, is now well-past the reflection stage.  The longest trip I have undertaken, since 2015, has passed without controversy, among those of my family and friends who have viewed my travels in the past, with some consternation.

There were mostly good things that happened, this summer that is nearly passed.  I want to first note those who have honoured me with their presence, in the deepest of ways.  Then, I shall note the learnings I picked up from the trek. Finally, some observations are in order.

Honours-

The first of these always goes to my family: Being in Christ Church, Philadelphia, for the wedding of my beloved youngest niece; having my son, Aram, and his girlfriend next to me during the service, throughout the reception and for much of Father’s Day.  I’m grateful to her, for having given him much happiness; being with all of my siblings, nieces and nephews and nearly all of my extended family.

My northern Nevada family has always been there for me, as well.  This year, over Memorial Day weekend, was no different.

My sister in spirit, Corina, drove an hour each way to visit with me a bit-once I got to Wilmette, but to no avail.  My arrival was way too late, so back she went, to spend Sunday afternoon with her beloved. I feel honoured, nevertheless.  Just being in the embrace of the Baha’i House of Worship is a singular honour, in itself.

Having dinner with friends in Mishawaka, IN, was a sublime blessing.  Thanks, Val and Sparky.

I cannot say enough, for the staff and fellow hostelers at Auberge Bishop, Montreal, for confirming my worth as a human being, in the aftermath of a serious loss.  I am also grateful to the agents at USAA, for mitigating that loss.  It was a joy to take lunch at one of  the restaurants of a friend’s establishment:  La Panthere Verte.  I would feel similarly honoured, again, at hostels in Baltimore and in Memphis.

One of the greatest honours is to connect with the spiritual energy of one’s ancestors. My maternal grandmother’s hometown, Plattsburgh, NY first welcomed me, and a few weeks later, my sister and a maternal cousin connected with some of Grama’s grandnieces and great grandnephews.

Penny’s family will always be my own, as well.  They helped me greatly, in the wake of Montreal.  A few days’ respite, in the family home, in Spring Hill, FL helped me rest before the home stretch, and reaffirmed our bond.  Paying my respects to her departed cousin, a few days before, in Maryland, was essential.

There are many, across the nation and world, who I regard as spiritual family. They are of all Faiths and of no Faith.  Connecting with a woman who is like a daughter to me, in Virginia Beach; an immigrant friend who is like a brother, in Salisbury, NC; and my Tennessee brother and sister of the heart, in Crossville, have made all the difference in healing a part of me that still grieves, somehow.

Being in Memphis, and feeling the pain that all of us who are of good heart experienced, the day Martin Luther King, Jr. died, was cathartic.  I had not cried in a good long while, and this overwhelming sadness brought out a lot.  Later in the day, walking along the banks of the Mississippi and along Beale Street, felt like a dirge was playing.  Dr. King honoured us all.

NEXT:  Learnings

 

The 2018 Road, Days 2-3: Pre-conceived notions, Heart Pancakes and A Warrior Princess

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May 27-28, 2018, Carson City- I got into Carson City, and a long-time friend’s house, around 10:15, on Sunday night.  I’ve been here, each year since 2012, on either Memorial Day or Independence Day. The members of Family S have been like biological family to me, for far longer-since the early 1990’s.

So, a stop up here has been a precursor to my summer time excursions, whether I’m headed northwestward or am eastbound.  I’ve known some family members since they were tweens and now am honoured by the presence of Princess B.  She will remain off-screen here, per my own policy when it comes to children, but B. is a highly intelligent and imaginative young lady and nobody will lay a hand on her, by my lights- or those of her grandmother, let alone on her parents’ watch.

Monday was spent in study of a Baha’i text that deals with consultation.  This is a practice that is sorely needed, not just in this country, but across the globe.  How many times have I found friends, even from other parts of the world, not opening their minds and hearts to other points of view?    The text I studied yesterday reminds us that no one person has all the answers, nor does any one group.  We watched a PBS documentary on the many aspects of warfare, after the study session.  Failure to view people outside one’s group, community or nation as human, or worthy of respect, has been the single greatest underlying cause of warfare, throughout history.  This is true, regardless of the cause of record.

All day today, Tuesday, I have thought of the world being left to B and her contemporaries, and to my grandchildren, yet unconceived, unborn.  She, her grandmother and I enjoyed a lovely Chinese buffet, shopped for things we needed at Target and Best Buy and came back for a “group project”, involving a streaming device and antennas.  Then, we enjoyed pancakes, including  two heart-shaped gems.

Those of you who have followed me , for the past several years, know that I have regularly come across heart-shaped items, both in natural and urban settings.  Here is a view of one heart-shaped pancake, before it was claimed by its rightful owner, our indomitable warrior princess.

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This visit was way too short, we all agreed, before B left with her father.  Tomorrow, I may connect for a bit with another WP reader, not far from here, before heading across Nevada and Utah.  Hopefully, I will also connect with extended family in Colorado and friends along the eastward route.   The centerpiece of this trip, my youngest niece’s wedding, looms three short week from now.

Single- Track Through Paradise

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May 28, 2017, Cave Creek-

I have now gone from one point of angels to another, meaning from Superior to Cave Creek, via Globe and the Apache Trail.  This road (AZ Highway 88) is mostly single track, offering enough room for vehicles heading one way to pass, whilst those going in the opposite direction wait their turn.  It’s good for people to do this, at least a few times in their lives.  I last drove the AT, in 1983, with Penny in tow.  She was petrified and made me promise never to bring her there again. Today, she and my other spirit-minders made sure I paid close attention.  With scenes like the one below, it might not have been so easy, had my main focus not been on the well-being of everyone on the road, including yours truly.  Fortunately, there were also plenty of turn-outs.

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There are two lakes along the Apache trail, between Roosevelt Dam and Goldfield. Here is a view of Apache Lake.  When I taught at Villa-Oasis School, in the late 1970’s, this was one of the places groups of kids were sent for camping weekends.

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Imagine how the Salt River must have flowed, before these reclamation projects took root.

At Fish Creek Hill, I drove up a 10% grade, made doable by the dryness of the road, and the cautious courtesy of all comers.  One is rewarded at the top, by  amazing views of the Superstition Wilderness.

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Fish Creek Canyon looks like a fun place to hike and camp- in November.

I drove on, and found the pavement had resumed, about 1 1/2 miles west of the overlook.  So did one young man behind me, who chose to pass, on a double yellow line, in a 15-MPH curve zone.  The look on the face of the driver who had to stop and wait for him was classic.  I would not want to be on approaching driver’s bad side. Itchy Foot was the only one who broke courtesy, on the 44-mile drive.

I stopped at Tortilla Flat, a small tourist haven, close to Lost Dutchman State Park, in the heart of the Superstition Wilderness.  Siphon  Draw and Boulder Canyon are two popular hiking trails, accessible from Tortilla Flat.  Again, late Fall and early Spring are the best times for this area.  Tortilla Flat does offer a wide variety of cool treats, and I thoroughly enjoyed a sarsaparilla float.

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Back in  1900’s Arizona,, sidewalks, and even some roads, were made of planks.

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Having had a nice relaxing break, I headed on towards Apache Junction, then up through the Valley, to pay my Memorial Day respects to Penny.

There is one more attraction on the Apache Trail, before one gets to Goldfield (another, slightly more upgraded “ghost town”),  This is Canyon Lake.

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Each of the lakes and vista points along the Apache Trail is worth a day or two, in comfortable weather.  People, nonetheless, go there, even in the heat of summer, at least where there is water.  Looking back, I spent most of my summer days in and around water, as a child and young adult, so the appeal is a no-brainer.  It beats being inside.

I stopped at the Cemetery, anchored Penny’s flag, and one other, and thought of how fortunate I’ve been, with her presence, since 1980, and since 2011.

As I pulled up to Local Jonny’s, a lovely young woman, who seemed to be an advanced medical or law student, given her heavy briefcase, was securing her dog’s leash to the gatepost.  There weren’t many inside, so  Alicia was  glad I stopped in, and in ten minutes, I had the last of her pitcher of iced tea and a cilantro chicken salad was placed in front of me.  Jonny’s salads are good for two meals, so I have Monday’s lunch in my cooler, as the drive back to Prescott begins.

Having angels surrounding me, in all directions, including above, is a comforting state of affairs.  Oh, and an e-mail from the chief of department leaves the door to my staying in Prescott ajar, at least.