End of Winter

The sun is a benison to weary nerves. It is good to stand outside as the day ages, and to blink into the westering light. Soon the city and surrounding countryside will swell full with warmth and greenery. Max and Will will stretch and crow, and produce Vitamin D at an alarming rate. We will sleep out of doors, and swim in the river, and eat food we've grown and fish we've spent hours catching, and I will revel in the life and growth of my sons.

much peace

Goodbye Mom

Mom went about as easy as a body can go, I guess, and was conscious and lucid for all but the very last. She asked to see my boys, and got to talk and listen to them for a little while before she began the last mile.

She was relatively pain free, and tired of the oxygen mask. She couldn't breathe so well without it, but a little bit of morphine here and there alleviated that discomfort. Her tiny little body, which had given life and comfort to so many for so long, was just done. She slipped pretty gently out of consciousness, and all the brothers and sisters sang and talked and prayed her to sleep. We got quiet at the end, and kept vigil while her breathing slowed, and while the pulse at her neck weakened and finally stopped. Everybody cried some, and I was a big bawl-baby myself, but I'm fiercely glad that my mom kept her sovereignty to the end, and drew her lines where she did. I'm also glad that my kids' first experience with death was with a woman as brave and as dignified as my mom, and with a family as large, loving and unabashedly emotional as mine. Her whole life, my Mom gave, and gave, and gave. Even in dying she had gifts and lessons to give. I'm richer for it. So thanks, and goodbye, mom. I hate that you had to go, but I'm glad you're free.

much peace,

Bike Commuting

There were geese in the creek today, and a mallard couple, and a small mammal of some sort disturbed the surface as it swam. There was also some resilient ice in one of the drainage pipes, and the water was chilly blue-green.

much peace,

Abracadabra

So this talking snake in a tree told me that Xenu, the Director of the Intergalactic Federation, knocked up this chick who swore up and down she was still a virgin. This was AFTER this crazy bearded guy with a magic hammer caused thunderstorms all over Norway, and some other cat in the desert said it was okay to kill all the infidels, a position that met with serious objection from folks who avowed and averred that THEIR bearded sky fairy had Chosen only them for that luscious desert. Then Aslan gave Prince Adam this magic sword and he and MacGuyver hooked up with Wonder Woman and Batman and made some crazy looking kids that Abraham was quite ready to kill until Buffy and Angel convinced him to change his ways.

Now, which of these things can be proven by actual empirical observation?

Answer: None.

Have a nice day. Abracadabra.

The demons all come crashing in
to find a place under my skin
where there's fear and loneliness enough
for all the hosts of hell...

(CR 2010, tjb)

Awake and Alive

It's easier to get up in the mornings knowing I have a bicycle ride ahead of me, and office work is more tolerable when I'm looking forward to my bike ride home.

This morning I heard bullfrogs creaking and croaking down by the Papio Creek, and the locusts were louder than I recall in previous summers. At 6:25 a.m., the edges of greenery along the trail diffuse into the late summer haze, and the eastern sky is still a tumbled confusion of color and cloud.

My shredded, then repaired, then re-shredded right knee aches in rotation, but my breath comes easy, my heart is steady, and my muscles burn like the good old days. I could spend a day concentrating on the rhythm of my quadriceps: fire and relax, fire and relax. Hypnotic, like the locusts and the slow-moving creek. I'm nothing but an extension of the scenery.

much peace,

Old Friend

I saw a bluejay on my bike ride to work this morning. I hadn't seen one in a long time before that. I hope I see him again tomorrow.

much peace