Memories out of Season

Memories Out of Season

October 6, 2018

Girl cousins.

You can see it in their faces.

A not-yet conscious strength in their shared sisterhood.

For them neither glass slippers nor glass ceilings.

Capable, confident, willing to kick some serious butt if necessary, 
they will create a different future.


Through them, and many girls like them,
will come a new humanity, unshackled and free of the past.

And in this freedom will men and boys find their own liberation.

 

 

May 18, 2017

-

To honor the mountain's dramatic eruption thirty-seven years ago
on May 18, 1980, Cowlitz County's local newspaper, The Daily News,
ran a quiz testing its readers' knowledge of the event with thirty-seven questions.

The quiz appeared on page 4, the answers at the top,
followed immediately below by the questions.

I got all thirty-seven right!

 

 

 

I fly the flag at half mast. What does it say about my country that half of the voters chose a loud, ignorant, crude boor and con man for president? (That was a rhetorical question. I don't want to know the answer.)

For me, this is worse than 9/11. As terrible as that event was, it brought us together as a people. It was George W. Bush's finest moment--and let's face it, he didn't have all that many.

No, to come close to the sense of grief and desolation I am today feeling, I would need to go back to when I was a high school freshman on November 22, 1963.

It's not that such a person as Donald J. Trump will be President of the United States (that's bad), but that so many Americans would elect such a man. I grieve for my nation. I have lost faith in my fellow citizens.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

May 26, 2016

 

Eighteen years ago today my father went up to the lake for the last time.

We were told he died quickly. Heart attack. Nothing could be done.

Sad?

Of course. Suddenly my world was without a father--How strange was that? A new emptiness opening in my soul.

And yet, when considering the alternatives, it was a good death,
especially for a man who took joy in the simple pleasures,
who made no great demands on life,
content to see what each day offered,
who managed to have no Big Dramas--
except World War II and me. (Father, forgive me.)

It seemed fitting that he would depart this life quietly, quickly,
doing what he loved,
and much loved.

 

 

 

October 25, 2015

Lazy afternoon,

sprawled on my bed with book and window open,

listening to the syncopated rhythms of the rain,

reading,

                 dozing,

                               dreaming,

                                                     waking,

wandering through mind-drifts of memories...

              of the farm at Barwon Downs,

              of hiking up Mt. Takao in autumn,

              of planting the chestnut with Dad,


while listening to the rain, reading.