Best Thanksgiving

We have missed Thanksgiving with our son for a long time. It was time. Long past time. It was the best Thanksgiving ever.

We stayed in a hotel

That felt wrong

From the beginning.

No details here.

The dinner at the pricey restaurant

Had no turkey

On the menu,

Nothing with cranberries

Even.

The portions were small.

We left hungry.

Still

We laughed at the bill.

The next day

We ate like kings and queens,

Sat at the bar

And watched the son

And brother

In his element.

Black Friday

Was not Black.

It offered a spectrum

Of white light

Every color

Of the rainbow

And then some.

It was the best Thanksgiving

Ever.

Persimmon

None of us had ever had a persimmon, so we bought one.

The taste of the persimmon

Was sweet.

It dried out

The backs of all my teeth.

We each described it in different ways.

I am not interested

In eating another one

Ripe

Or over-ripe.

My teeth still

Feel it

One day later.

The sweetness

Has gone.

Exact

I am learning to change my punctuation, putting semi-colons where I once put periods. Life is so much more interesting with semi-colons. I am considering a semi-colon tattoo. I know this is a reflection in itself, and may have little to do with what follows. So be it.

Some people

Are exactly on time

For everything.

Exactly.

I am learning

To be less exact,

More gracious,

More understanding.

Here I am.

Here you are.

We are all

Never really exact at all,

Even if we pretend

We are.

Here I am.

Here you are.

Exactness is a figment

Even if we almost always

Arrive on time.

Goodbye exactitude.

Hello approximation.

Here I am.

Here you are.

Not a bad way

To start a new year.

Exactly

Not a bad way

To begin.

Not Black Friday

This is a perfect trip. Perfect because of the company.  Family.  Minneapolis is home turf for me. It's the combination of family and memories. Yes.

This is not at all

Black Friday.

In fact

I think

It’s a lovely maroon.

We all had lunch

Together.

The son is off to work.

The daughter will go

To the art museum.

Perhaps my beloved will go

With her.

I am staying

In the hotel room,

Maybe reading a book.

We will eat dinner

At seven,

Get a good night’s sleep,

Leave in the morning.

Not a Black Friday

At all,

More like maroon

Or maybe even teal.

Thanksgiving morning

Breakfast in the motel in Milwaukee before we pick up the daughter. Thank goodness the woman with little cigars disappears outside before coming back in to comment on every item on GMA. Time to go.

The air is filled

With Good Morning America

A woman with little cigars.

Everything

Thanksgiving plans changed piece by piece. I think I like this.

My sister is in a tiny house

Outside of Santa Fe.

My brother

Is in Vietnam

Having drawn the right number

Years ago

My sister-in-law

Is in Vietnam

With him

Playing dress-up,

Taking pictures.

My beloved and I will drive north

To Milwaukee

To pick up the daughter

At midnight,

Leave in the morning

To drive north again

To Minneapolis

To find the son

Eat turkey.

Who knows what else

Will transpire.

Everything changed

Over the weekend.

Everything.

And so the sandhill cranes

Signs of winter. Some here. Some to come.

And so the sandhill cranes

Appear again,

Signal the true end

Of fall

More than the snow.

They are late this year

Their calls

(my beloved heard them first)

Their calls

A joyous sound.

The first snow melts.

The backyard birds

Find the seed

Around the crabapple.

Soon the duck lady

In red

Or blue

May appear.

My beloved saw fox tracks

In the snow

You can tell

He said

Because they walk

In a line.

More kitten

Got to get back into writing. 

Thanksgiving plans have changed. We are driving north to find the son, picking up the daughter on the way, This will be good. Very good. We may even bring leftovers home to the cats.

The kitten has a tail

Bigger than the rest of her,

A black stripe

Down her nose,

A chirp which serves

A constant reminder

She is there

For leftovers.

The kitten

Loves the bran sludge

In the bottom

Of the cereal bowl,

And anything round

She can pick up and carry

Bottle caps,

Milk rings.

She adores shredding napkins

And leaving them

By the side of the bed

For us to find.

Hotel room dream

Funny things, these dreams.

In the hotel room

I dream of the kitten.

I dream of taking tests

In which I score 61

Though normal

Is 68.

The test-giver laughs

When I tell her

That’s not good enough.

But look!

She says

Look!

That same test says

You have absolutely no risk

Of a heart attack.

I wonder how this can be.

No

She says

No

These tests can’t lie.

So

I wake up.

Arriving early

I am learning new ways to navigate things like Convention.  Arriving early and establishing a nest is a new thing for me. It feels pretty good.

I arrived so early

The lobby was empty;

I reveled in the silence,

The sheer space

Before the fullness

Tomorrow.

Tonight I establish a nest

To return to

From the fullness

When the respite

Calls me.

Then and only after that

I will return

To the fullness.

Earth shoes

Still seeking the magical cure for everything.

A while back,

Long ago now,

It seemed everything

Could be cured

With Earth Shoes.

Not able to stand upright?

Earth Shoes.

Unbalanced?

Earth Shoes.

Forgot to eat breakfast?

Earth Shoes.

Didn’t get enough sleep?

Earth Shoes.

Not enough water?

Earth Shoes.

I still seek the equivalent

Of Earth Shoes

That magical way

Of keeping feet

Flat on the floor

Earth Shoes

The cure for everything.

We do what we can do

It's newly dark. I am figuring what needs to change...no more, no less. I do what I can do, as we all must. Hugs are wonderful things.

We do what we can do:

No more

No less.

Today requires

One cup of coffee:

No more

No less.

Today requires

The right amount

Of engagement:

No more

No less,

The hearing of jokes

Silly yet serious;

The hugs

Just because hugs

Connect us

In unworded ways.

Here we are

Doing what we can do.

The same things

Yet somehow different

No more

No less

Present as much as possible

With enough left over

For tomorrow.

No guarantee

I have one more daily pill to take. And no guarantee, absolutely no guarantee, I will not have another unforeseen seizure. Still... I will do what I can. I will find the humor where I can. I will enjoy the people who work in the neurologist's office. I will give thanks for what I know, and I will give thanks for those who care for me when I do not know, for those who tell me what happened in my absence.

There’s no guarantee

Of course there’s no guarantee

Still… this might help…still.

Not tempered

Change comes hard, even when it's written on the calendar.

I am still not tempered

To the evening sky

An hour earlier

Than it should be

Dark and darker

I wait for the hour

To slip back

Where it once was.

I know I am not in charge

Of time

This time or really

Any time.

Still

I keep hoping

For different things

To come to pass.

I do not want to wait.

I am not tempered

To this particular darkness.

Grok

For my dear friend, Laurie Michaels, she who groks. My beloved says this is one of the only good things about Robert Heinlein's Stranger in a Strange Land... the term "grok." Thank you, Laurie.

At every point in life

It is vital

To find those

Who have experienced

Something similar.

At every point

In life

We must sit

With a warm cup of something,

Share the similar thing

And say

That thing is not the sum total

Of our being.

There is always more

To be claimed.

Bright wonder

I think I will be processing this for a long while. Now comes the news from the state that I can not drive. Of course I can not drive. I do not remember what happened five minutes after I left home. I lost at least three hours a week ago Monday. Thankfully no one was hurt. Of course I can not drive.

It is possible to leave home

With no inkling

You will find yourself

In an emergency room

Sometime later,

Realize

Eventually

God has been in charge

All along.

It is possible

To leave home

Find out

Your brain malfunctioned

While driving

And a whole community of people

Gathered around

And even continue

To gather around.

Meanwhile

God pulls threads,

Reweaves and patches holes,

Adds a person here

And a person there

And even

Bright wonder

That everything continues on

In such unimagined ways.

Clever

'Nuff said.

God

Is a clever fellow,

Always weaving our lives

Together

Or pulling a thread

So we notice the ones

Left in place.

God is

Oh so clever

Of course.

Usual dizziness

I woke with a familiar dizziness, not the awful aftermath of multiple seizures which hung on for a week. This is my new normal.

I woke with the usual dizziness

Overjoyed with the regular feeling,

Overtaken

By what I have come to expect

As normal.

The weeklong aftermath

Expired with the morning light.

I knew it was

A different day.

I will still

Not be able to drive.

But here I am

One week out.

I make plans

For this:

A new normal

Shaken into place

While I still slept.

Mostly grateful

Today my beloved explains my seizures to the folk I work with. The time has come. For this very private person, I am not looking forward to it. Still... I am mostly grateful.

In the midst of this life

My friends respond

As I know they will

My family comes in swinging

As I know they will.

In the midst

Of this life

There are always those

Who can be counted on

For an atta girl

For a prayer

For a cup of coffee.

Dare I say

There are also those

Who have never been there

In times like these.

Still I have learned

To give them the opportunity,

Then move on

From there.

In the midst of this life

I am grateful.

Mostly grateful.

Today the list is small

Today I hang out with the cats in the sun. I am grateful for both.

Today the list is small:

Write this,

Whatever this is.

Take the morning pills.

Eat breakfast.

Drink coffee

From the sunflower mug.

Watch the kitten.

Consider the sun.

Consider it again.

One needful thing

Wow. One needful thing at a time. I did not write yesterday. Today I did.

This morning

There is one needful thing.

I will write.

The words themselves

Do not matter.

I notice I forgot my pills again

Last night.

So

Perhaps

Two needful things.

Oh and maybe three

If I think hard enough

Remember the pills

Notice the golden morning light

The kitten sliding across

The dining room table

Me curled up

In the soft blue blanket,

That blanket given to me the first Christmas

After seizure number one.

This morning

Only one

Maybe two

Perhaps three

Needful things.

I imagine

Wow. Prayers requested for grace and equanimity as I learn new ways of being after Monday's seizure experience.

I imagine this

Is what death might be like

Suddenly waking up

In a new place

Only really

It has a familiar ring

Like I’ve been here before

The kitten asleep

Next to my chair

The person on the other end

Of the phone,

He has waited

She has waited

For me

To answer

Time to come home

Time to be home

I imagine this

Is all rehearsal

For the real thing

I figure I will know it

When I see it.

Steps

I write this so maybe I will believe it eventually.

One small step still leads
To the very next one
Even when I can’t see

No plans

The entire day was a distraction. And here I am... today. Now I am really back in no driving mode,

I do not know

Where yesterday went

Except the details

Have flown

To parts unknown

I remember many kind voices

But not the ambulance

Not the emergency room

I don’t even remember

Being driven home.

Here I am

Awake in the blue chair

With no plans

For the day

Tomorrow is a cipher

As well.

Gold leaves

More steps in gold leaves.

I wake and wonder

What next steps

I shall take,

What next steps

I shall put off

For now.

I know

They will come later.

I am on the road

To Oz.

Gold leaves

Cover the front walk.

My companions are often

Unlikely.

I am on the road

To Somewhere.

Gold leaves

Blanket the front walk

And yes

The back yard

As well.

Which door

Shall I use?

My companions offer

Different possibilities.

They search

For brains

For courage

For heart.

Gold leaves show us

The way.

We

All of us

Search for Home.

Time is an abstract concept

I woke up philosophical. Now off to church.

Here I am

In the blue chair.

The clocks all tell

Different times.

Some we changed

Some change automatically

Some may never change

At all.

Time,

After all,

Is an abstract concept.

It depends on which clock

Numbers the hours

Numbers the days,

Which ones we believe,

Which ones we don’t.