Friday, October 16, 2009

Blue

STORY ONE:

I found out last night that a woman died. A woman not too much older than I am. The family belongs to my church. This is not a eulogy.

Maureen's daughter and my daughter played soccer together for a season. The other girl's dad coached the team. She had divorced and her ex-husband had custody of the kids. She still came to all the practices and games. She was sociable, friendly, and you could tell she was a caring person in many ways. Her oldest son committed suicide a few years ago, having not talked to her in several years. The anniversary of that sad day was a couple of weeks ago. That's also the last time anyone talked to her. The police were finally called to open the home and they found her body, decomposing. A disaster of a life, now ended with no chance to change.

STORY TWO:

My friend Evelyn has a brain tumor. I just got the news today. She doesn't understand why I love her so much. She's getting close to 90 years old. She's a steamroller. She has her own opinions and when she's right, or believes she is right anyway, she will argue with you and give you the reasons why you should agree! She is the closest thing I have to a communist friend. I love her for that too. It makes her sad that she can't change the world. She makes me want to fight hard for the poor and forgotten in the world. Will she have to have chemo? Will the chemo give her any extra time? And, will it be time that she can use?

STORY THREE:

My dad has leukemia. He's had it for going on 20 years. They told him it was a slow moving kind (around 20 years or so before anything would have to be done) and something else would likely kill him first, since he's been diabetic for years, plus has some heart issues and more.

Well doctors, it's been almost 20 years now. He's still among the living, but crepitation has my dad in it's sights. His hip is a mess, and his other joints aren't doing too hot either. This kept him from any meaningful rehab after his heart surgery. Each time I see him I am so affected by his weakness which seems to get worse by the month. Now the oncologist needs to see him about his blood counts which are changing.

STORY FOUR:

I left work today feeling awful. Like somebody beat me up. The sky mirrored my mood. It was completely overcast with autumn chill and damp in the air.

The wait at the bus stop was longer than usual. Aboard the bus I did my best not to start crying. Denzel in the whipping scene in "Glory" crossed my mind.

Once in my car, I turned on the radio and listened to commercials to distract myself. I found myself driving up the steep ramp from Front Street to the Paseo Bridge. The angle of the car forced my gaze upward. The smallest patch of blue sky was visible right in front of me. I looked around for more blue. Nothing. Completely overcast. But this tiny little piece of blue sky suddenly became my fast friend. I smiled. I thought of the overcast sky and the tiny patch of blue.

I thought of hard times, and tiny slivers of hope.

Friday, February 13, 2009

12 on the 12th

It's that time again. 12 random pictures on the 12th of the month.
Just a snapshot of life on the 12th.

Kids driving off on the way to school.

Steve's classical guitar music.

John's empty desk at home.

Sunrise

Doctor's lobby

Martha Lafite Thompson Nature Sanctuary

My gear for birding.

My shoes for getting muddy

Jordan got a handmade rose from Chris.
Made from colored duct tape. Very cool.

Steve with a 2-day old driver's license.

This is a cool piece of glass.
My m-i-l has a similar one,
so when I saw this at a garage sale
about 15 years ago, I immediately bought it.

Fireball


Saturday, January 10, 2009

What a difference two weeks make.

From Tuesday January 6th.
I have 2 choices when taking the bus home from work each weekday. The early bus and the late bus. Keep in mind these are only separated by a scant 28 minutes. So early and late could more accurately be called first and second. Today on my four block walk to catch my late bus I glanced around at the usual buildings and parking structures, discovering to my amazement the bricks were truly aglow. The sun, not fully set, was washing the air of my walk with happy orange-red rays. I remembered a similar walk, just three weeks back, that was marred by frigid temperatures and darkness. It may be just as cold today, but oh how the setting sun-glow warmed my spirit.