A precious experience: Visiting Grandpa in Farmington. He was so small, barely there, barely hearing, recognizing a few. He knew me, I was grateful. He would doze, and then come back. He spoke often of how he should be on the top of a mountain. I told him he would be at the top of a mountain soon. His heart was in the mountains.
My mom and aunts brought him to Mancos to see all of the great grandkids and the families gathered. He had color in his cheeks, a smile on his face, hooked up to oxygen, dozed off and on, but mostly reveled in his party. He'd brought his entire family to this place. Eventually it was time for him to go. I knew it would be the last time I'd see him. I will never forget the scene. Forty people, young and old, standing silent, as Grandpa was wheeled to Mom's car. Joe grabbed Grandpa and lifted him out of his wheelchair and placed him in the car. There was not a dry eye watching this scene. Lots of hugging. Off he went, back to Farmington.
Later, after everyone had dispersed from the reunion, news came that Grandpa was sliding fast, and that it was likely that he wouldn't last more than a day, then, a few hours. That night I said to myself that I would dream of Grandpa. I fell asleep.
As I was dreaming, I became aware of being on the top of a mountain, breathing in the night sky, feeling the cool air on my face, looking at the full moon. Grandpa was sitting with me at a picnic bench. He was full of life, smiling, very happy, also enjoying the air as we pointed out all the marvels of our experience to each other. The dream ended.
The next morning, I was in my kitchen preparing breakfast, and I heard his voice, "I love you, Steffie." I knew he was gone from this realm, and shortly thereafter Mom called to tell me Grandpa had died in the night.
Monday, December 20, 2010
Little Bird
Written for Alan as he was leaving the nest... 2006
Joy, Love
- Three boys, now almost grown!
Young Child
Beautiful Boy
Perfection
Life, Change
Life, Love
Release, Embrace
Release, Embrace
Always Make Room
More Joy Awaits
Infinite Possibilities
Intimate Realities
Release, Embrace
Release, Embrace
Yours is the World
You are the Light
My Sad Heart
Filled with Joy, Excitement
For Your Life
Share Your Essence
It is Divine
Hearts Always Connected
Beautiful Boy
Beautiful Man
Perfection
Fly Away, Little Bird
I Love You!
Peter in a Box, March 2006
Peter aspires to be a homeless person. So he told me when he was 10 years old. "What do you want to be when you grow up?" "Homeless." Plenty to make any parent proud. "Does your father know this?" "Uh uh". His reasons behind it at the time... "I'm not smart enough to do anymore." or "Anything else would take work, and I just want to play my video games..." "Well", I ask him, "where do you plan to play those video games?" "In my box on the corner". "Which corner?" He has it all planned out, he's going to live on the corner of 1st and Garrison, a mere 2.5 blocks from where we live now. I'm sure he's thinking he can live in the box by day, and come over, visit in case I'm feeling lonely and get some food from my home at night, and maybe find a nice comfy bed in a nice warm house. So, I had to tell him that after he moves out, since he is the youngest child, I will likely sell the house that will be too big for me by myself, and possibly even move out of the city. What color markers does he want to decorate his new home? He's crushed. Plan B.
The years go by, he's 13. He often speaks of the box he'll live in, how big it needs to be, which corner of the intersection he's going to live on. The one adjacent to the fire station? Fire men are friendly and would be nice to him, he thinks, plus there's a vending machine for pop there. He realized the other day that it might be in his best interest to plan to petition the fire station to put into place a food vending machine by the time he takes to the street. That way he can beg for money for food and drink. He's thinking. He does not realize that the police drive up and down Garrison continually, and that the city of Lakewood would not be horribly tolerant of a person pandering. He thinks that the firemen will protect him from the police. It is suggested to him that he put his box not on the grass in front of the fire station, but maybe across the street closer to the ditch. He hasn't quite yet figured out how he's going to play those video games. Maybe being an accountant wouldn't be so bad? The possibility is planted.
The years go by, he's 13. He often speaks of the box he'll live in, how big it needs to be, which corner of the intersection he's going to live on. The one adjacent to the fire station? Fire men are friendly and would be nice to him, he thinks, plus there's a vending machine for pop there. He realized the other day that it might be in his best interest to plan to petition the fire station to put into place a food vending machine by the time he takes to the street. That way he can beg for money for food and drink. He's thinking. He does not realize that the police drive up and down Garrison continually, and that the city of Lakewood would not be horribly tolerant of a person pandering. He thinks that the firemen will protect him from the police. It is suggested to him that he put his box not on the grass in front of the fire station, but maybe across the street closer to the ditch. He hasn't quite yet figured out how he's going to play those video games. Maybe being an accountant wouldn't be so bad? The possibility is planted.
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