Archive for September, 2010

“There is a crack in everything. That’s how the light gets in.”

-Leonard Cohen

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making like a squirrel

The kiddo’s hoarding acorns again…

yesterday…

was the 30th anniversary of my father’s passing. I didn’t realize the milestone until my sister T. had pointed it out. In my head, the years stopped passing at about fifteen. Most of the time, it seems like a year…or a month…a week…ago. My emotional point of departure always lingers there, I guess.

This snap was from a recent trip this summer, in which, as I’ve mentioned previously, the kiddo and I haunted a pair of old cemetaries. And in which the kiddo tossed some big questions at me. She was saddened to see the headstones of mothers and fathers. Probably scared for her own sake. She insisted that one pair needed some flowers, and plucked a few posies to lay upon their stones.

I believe our children come to us to teach us a thing or two about a thing or two. One of my minor complaints about parenting—occassionally—is the lack of alone time. I am a person who prefers the peace of solitude. Summer doesn’t allow for much of that. This child will not leave me alone. I like to think it’s something she’s teaching me. And I pray she never feels  alone, either.

“Every man’s memory is his private literature.” -Aldous Huxley

This is from David Hollies, who has Alzheimer’s. He wrote:

Lost and Found

The first few times
Being lost was frightening
Stark, pregnant
With the drama of change
Then, I didn’t know
That everywhere is nowhere
Like the feeling when a ocean wave
Boils you in the sand
But as time goes by
Each occurrence of lostness is quieter
Falling from notice
Like the sound of trains
When you live near the tracks
Until one day
When a friend asks
“How often do you get lost?”
And I strain to recall a single instance
It was then that I realized
Being lost only has meaning
When contrasted with
Knowing where you are
A presumption that slipped out of my life
As quietly as smoke up a chimney
For now I live in a less anchored place
Where being lost is irrelevant
For now, only when there is a need
Do I discover where I am
No alarm, no fear
Just an unconscious check-in
Like glancing in the rear-view mirror.