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Category Archives: Depression

Poem: Control

I’d rather be calm
as this glassy lake
than feel those stormy
winds writing my fate
hard on razor rocks
and eliminate
any delusion
that I might escape
what is preordained
because of the snake
promising knowledge
to substantiate
the reason to be…

ahh – I see my mistake.

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Poem: Valentine

you once were mine
as I was yours
and now all that
remains of us
is this old card
that says “forever”
and your old shirt
infused with our
sweet memories.

Poem: Persist Dance

by daylight
we slow dance
embrace our folly

tumble onto
satin sheets
writhe our story

of moon dark
vain starlight
spawning glory

by daybreak
we stagger
melancholy

back to the
loneliness
of ‘if only…”

and begin
once again
to dance slowly.

Ramble: I Miss You Mom

I haven’t posted for a while because my Mom was in and out of the hospital in the last month, and on January 16 she peacefully passed away. Free at last from the many years of struggle with her health. 

It is strange how we create a routine out of the obligations of life. A pattern is shaped from necessity and reluctantly overlaid. Eight years ago my father died, and my mom asked me to come see her more often. At first it was every other week. Somewhere in there it became a weekly visit. Usually on a Saturday, I’d be up by 6am and on my way. The 2-hour drive a quiet pleasant meditation through lovely Ontario country-side. A stop for a coffee. Sometimes a pause for walk on a trail.
I’d stop at the grocery store along the way and get what was needed, And arrive at my Mom’s usually before 9AM. We would have breakfast, discuss what was new and news, make a to-do list of what needed doing, Check the sump-pump, change the filters, light-bulbs, garden, lawn…whatever. Somewhere in there the PSW would arrive and help my mom with her personal care.
Then my mom and I would have lunch, and we’d cook something extra for the fridge and freezer. Sometimes we would bake – tea biscuits, cake, cookies – so my mom would have goodies to offer her many guests through the week. Her local church/community was simply amazing for how they took turns visiting her each evening.
Sometimes I’d stay for dinner, but usually by 4 pm I’d be heading back on the trek back the other way to my own home. Back to my own to-do list that was waiting for me.
Yes there were times I would feel trapped by the pattern of obligation. Times I just felt too tired, too overwhelmed…
And still I would go – maybe shifting the visit to a Monday…
I am not writing this to grumble and brag. I did what I did because I was available and I could. It was my choice. I am writing this because it became such a part of my life that today, this morning, In this here and now of quiet reflection, I realize and I feel the empty space that is here and now. It feels odd not planning a shopping list, gathering the tools to bring, creating a menu, finding a recipe…
I am writing not to say what I did, but to say how much it is missed. 

Poem: Forecast

you sky watch for omens;
sipping hot jasmine tea
from cracked ceramic cup.
rose colored dawn arises
clearly calling for rain,
while swirling swallows
swoop low over the pond
well aware of the storm
rumbling towards us.