Elegy

My father passed away on December 22nd, 2005. My sister placed inside the coffin a poem written in my mother's handwriting - in red ink. She had passed away January 7, 2004. I do not think it was my mother's own poem, maybe a Polish or Russian poet. I googled some of the key words, and much to my amazement, while I did not find the poem itself, I did find this poem, by Janina Degutyte, a Lithuanian poet:

ON A SNOWY MIDNIGHT

I left for the snowy midnight
To bow to the earth and the sky.

And in this silver point of space,
Where winds and ages cross,
Snowflakes fall and seconds fall
On my hair, upon my palms.
And they burn like salt,
And fetter the feet
With white unbreakable ropes.
But I shall not flee!
Only in this silver point of space,
Where houses and trees breathe behind my shoulders,
Where snowflakes fall and seconds fall
Upon my palms, into my heart, –
In red letters
I silently write on the snow
One name, one name...

by Janina Deguytyte

...."in red letters"....I lay in the snow that night....remember?
And so I ask: What were the odds of finding this poem,
amid all that exists out there....as if I had written it....."in red letters" ?

My First Amaryllis of the Season - Such Beauty

Farewell to Tree Viking - an old warrior has been felled.

This gorgeous sunflower was refusing to look at me - so I took this picture and now I can see it all the time! 

Today? Really? You mean it's cuddle-shmuddle tonight!!??? I am overcome with joy!!

Oh No!! Say it isn't so! I won't listen - I don't wanna hear it! Just wake me up when you're back.

Here is Timmy, enjoying the spring from the inside, as outside is still a little too cold. We all need to see the green soon - to warm ourselves after a long cold winter. 

On Aging and Death

Well it has been over a year that my mother and brother passed away, and I feel that ever since, there has been a shift, a very dramatic shift in how I think and how I feel. It is not for the better. I read the obits every day - and look at the ages of the people who died, some very young, some very old, some close to my age. It could happen soon, or not -we just don't know. I look to see what they died of - accident - suicide - horrible lingering illness. Am I obsessed? Do others do this? I look at my face for those signs - and sometimes I see my mother's face - some days more than others - and I must admit that at times it scares the hell out of me. I wonder why? Maybe because my mother was attractive - and I saw what aging did to her - even though she was my mother, and I loved her - it was ugly to see - so ugly and so frightening. And I cannot get the image of her as she lay dead on the hospital stretcher. What was that? Who was that? Why was I barely able to touch her hand, so cold and white. Why was my sister unable to stop touching her? Is there something wrong with me? A fatal flaw? So how do I change it? I would if I could.

The Big P's 2nd Christmas

...Before...

...after...

"Ah - Christmas Schmistmas - just let me get some shut eye, will ya?! " Before and after views of The Pumpkin's 2nd Christmas.