Friday, February 14, 2014
We walked in autumn
under arched canopies of gold and red maples
on a path made from an old rail bed
along the swift moving Schulykill
full from late summer rains.
We walked in spring
on trails trimmed in fern and moss
shaded by Douglas fir and sweet smelling cedar
Jason racing ahead in fits and starts
to dig in the damp dirt of
the secret amber place.
We walked Yosemite in winter
Jason in a carrier on your back
wearing a sky blue knit beanie
eyes round in excitement at the sight
of puffy snowflakes
landing on his tiny hands.
We walked in summer
on high slopes of the Montana Rockies
searching a mountain pass for
whistling marmots and mountain goats
shivering in the cold
despite the bright sun.
We walked many seasons
the sage hills of Laguna
the concrete and glass canyons of Manhattan
the rocky shores of the Pacific in Baja
Vancouver, and Oregon.
We walk hand in hand now
under palms on Coffee Pot Bayou
manatee, dolphin, turtles
rays and egrets keep us company.
We talk of everything and nothing
content with the season
and each other.
Sunday, January 12, 2014
"I am absolutely convinced that neither you nor your wife have sat down and taken the time to actually read Lisa's blog...so do it. Grab a cup of coffee and start about two years ago, before her met diagnosis. Get to know her, then follow her journey. do NOT cherry pick. do not rely on just tweets. READ THE DAMN BLOG. Then come back and read your editorial. and try to tell me it reflects Lisa's opinions or experience. Because it does not. She would tell you that every person's journey through cancer is unique to themselves and there is NOT one way or a right way to make that journey. She would agree with you that the "battle" metaphor is unfortunate...it is one she NEVER EVER uses...the fact you read it into her experience is from something in you that brings it to the table. I just can't believe that you have compounded Emma's misstatements and misunderstandings with your own. It is a sad day and many, many of us who call ourselves friends of Lisa are sad, angry, and disappointed. You do her a a great disservice at a time when she does not have the energy to combat it. So we will do it for her. "
Tuesday, December 24, 2013
Everyone is ready for Christmas Eve including our tiny tree. Merry Christmas all., a photo by abaesel on Flickr.
Our Christmas celebrations have gotten simpler as the years have gone by. Jason grew up and away. We moved. Mom passed. Some years I still put up the Christmas trees laden with ornaments from Christmas past. But more and more we keep it simple.
Two years ago we met Jason in Montreal and shared a simple tiny tree, wintry snow, and a home cooked meal.
This year we are in Seattle where Jason now lives. It is just the three of us. We rented a small house for the week not far from Jason. It has snowed and rained. It has been sunny and windy. Today is mild with the sun playing peekaboo behind gray clouds fringed with white wispy tendrils.
Over the past few days I've gathered a tiny tree from Trader Joe's to go with the snowmen, elf and penguin I brought from home. Jason bought me the husky ornament from REI and I found the cute kitty at Pottery Barn. The rum bottle is from my friend Kim, the shortbread from Daryl, and the Corgi is from yesterday's tea at the Queen Mary tearoom. Symbols of past and present holidays, good friends, and family.
Today we'll roast e a rack of lamb, sweet potatoes and zuccini, and bake an apple crisp. We'll open a bottle of good wine and toast to our good fortune to be together on Christmas. All under the watchful eyes of a few dogs,a cat, and a penguin.
Merry Christmas all.
Monday, December 16, 2013
Jason on the "front porch" of the gnome house of our Issaquah home 1992. Our first snow., a photo by abaesel on Flickr.