Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘My-life’


I did not realize the depths of my wife’s love

until she spent hours beside my hospital bed

while all I had strength for

was to sleep and recover.

Or when she was there

While I relearned how to do every little thing.

Or when she bathed me when I couldn’t.

I didn’t realize the depths of her love

when she attended to bodily functions I’m embarrassed to mention.

Or when she cut up my meat at the table because at the time I lacked the capacity to do so.

Or when, like a mother asking a child, “What’s Wrong?”

She wondered at my tears of frustration

at not healing fast enough,

or my weeping in gratitude at doing something simple for the first time

this time around,

like moving a toe.

I didn’t realize the depths of her love

until I experienced all the myriad ways she cared for me,

when I couldn’t care for myself.

And now, when she gets even more angry at me for smiling during her lecture

for doing something so incredibly stupid,

it’s because

I realize the depths of her love.

Read Full Post »


Before my fall

I thought slapstick was funny.

Read Full Post »


It would not be appreciated,

if you were not with me

to enjoy it.

Read Full Post »


I was looking through a small unpublished journal I wrote as an undergrad and liked one of the poems I read in it. So I decided to reprint it here with a few changes to reflect my current understanding. I’m so glad I’m no longer in that situation, and my heart goes out to those who are.

Free Windows 7 Screensavers Autumn | fall screensaver for mac ...

A long time ago,
twenty times before,
I’ve walked the path I’m walking now.

My love is lost.

Lonliness is what that path is made of.

I’ve gone and lost another.

You,
have been stifled

by me.

 

“What can I do?” I ask myself.

I don’t know, I’ve tried so many things.
.
There is a river which travels throughout my mind.
I wish…
to cast myself upon it.
I wish to float…
so freely,
thoughtlessly.

I wish to travel on that watery grave where thoughts become meaningless.

Yea, I say,

where there is no existence of feeling.

In my sorrow,
time has no meaning beyond the moment.

Now I’m feeling, wishing,
that moments had no meaning;

that there was no undergoing, nor gleaning
of the fates which impede our progression

toward the eternal truth of love,
and understanding.

Now I’m feeling, wishing,
that there was no undergoing, nor gleaning

of the fates which beckon falsely,

trapping hopeful lovers, ensnaring us in situations

that dash our hopes,

and those of others.

Read Full Post »


20200306_112700The full title reads: ” “Chippewa Indians of Minnesota, Incorporated” — BallClub, July 13-15, 1920. Benjamin Caswell, of Cass Lake, President” “and in another place “Rich” Photo –Bemidji–

I found this photo in my Grandmother’s shed. Having cleaned it out a few months after she died in 1985. “Lizzy” Elizabeth Joyce Mason is the girl with the bow in her hair on the far left. She was 14 then.

20200306_123657

To the left of her is my Great -Grandfather, “Neogeshig”, or Thomas Jefferson Jerome Mason. You can tell from his visage that Littlecreek men received many facial characteristics from him. 🙂

He’s holding Helen C. Mason, age 2, and I believe that little boy half hiding behind his pant leg to the left of him is either his son Vilas, age 6, or son Thomas Jr., age 7.

I figured I’d better put this photograph online somewhere so others could benefit from it–since it’s been sitting on top of my dresser all these years.

I am amazed at the amount of personal family history contained in this photograph. Who are all these people???

The expression of their genes is so strong, I think I would recognize their descendants from this picture! Let me know if you know any of them.

After uploading the whole photo,  I noticed that it was compressed so much that I couldn’t really identify anyone, so I’m adding enlarged sections of it above and below.

20200306_125142

I’m guessing that the man sitting apart from the others in the front bottom row, as a place of prominence, is Benjamin Caswell. Can anyone confirm this?20200306_125403

20200306_125627

20200306_125839

20200306_130037

Aren’t phone cameras great?

Read Full Post »


I’ve been away for a while. Doing other things. Recently started to learn to play the cello. I can do one scale and can play the Christmas Carol “Silent Night” badly. I figure in ten years–if I make it that long– I might be a passable player.

I’ve also been watching Korean Romantic Comedies too.

In a world where I hear that R rated movies of today are the same as pink porn of the 70s, it is refreshing to find for the most part–a G-rated genre where the worst curse you hear is, “You punk!” Where a relationship is started by a couple holding hands; where that relationship is consummated with a kiss at the end of the series. And where saying “I like you .” is tantamount to a declaration of love. I have more to say about this topic but I’ll leave that for another day.

But, the point is, I feel like writing again and you have seen the result of that in the last couple of days.

Cheers!

Read Full Post »


Spring Green

There is something about the Spring-green color of leaves

which brightens the eyes

and energizes the soul.

Read Full Post »


Every once in a while an Indian (read American Indian) will give a friend or family member a nickname. Sometimes these names are given just for fun, other times they are given to help that person be humble. “Dances With Wolves” comes to mind.

I actually know some of my aunts and uncles by their nicknames: Ishky, Bunny, and Boogens are three.

I told my wife that I finally figured out what her Indian nickname was.

“Well, what is it?”, she asked.

“Too Many Pillows”, I said.

She laughed… because she knew it was true.

Read Full Post »


I hear the crows converse,
I see the cloudy skies.

I feel it pleasantly cool outside,
in Red Lake.

How strange,

that I will miss the amusing sounds of the crows,
the melancholy overcast skies,
and the invigorating feel of the cool air,
when I return to someplace else
where I live.

Read Full Post »


Nothing compares to listening to the gentle susurrus of the rain outside

from the warm comfort of my bed,

first thing in the morning.

Read Full Post »

Older Posts »

%d bloggers like this: