What do you do??

So, while I was winding up my trip in the Holy Land, I got sick. Really sick. And I’m just now getting over it. It has made my traveling and life-re-entering difficult! Finally feeling better. But. While I was sick at the hotel for two days, I found time to interview myself about my role overseas. 🙂 It’s supposed to be funny!

Advertisements

Elderly Dragonfly

Oh, aged, fluttering Friend,
Your short, lovely life is about to end.

Perched upon my window sill,
Your lethargy reveals you are ill.

You linger and you long,
Not quite finished with your song.

When your life is almost over,
Why aren’t you dancing above the clover?

Instead, you visit me for one last glance.
My window–your funeral. Our last chance.

When humans are old and losing the world,
We sit and stare at Universe unfurled.

But you, my friend, stare back at me,
Waiting for Heaven to finally be free.

Did you have children? Did you find grace?
Did you ever find your very own space?

Thank you for spending your last minutes here.
I embrace your brave absence of fear.

Float on up. Flying is done.
Your winged race? Too-soon run.


Based on a story my husband just shared from work last night. I made the dragonfly in Photoshop from scanned ink textures and filter effects.

Vol. 2 (continued)

More from my second volume of Present Tense. These excerpts have not been published or seen. This is from the time I visited my dad in the hospital, just before he passed. He was very sick. End-stage cancer.


Smoke ‘Em If You Got ‘Em


Lung cancer. He smoked for over 45 years. Sometimes 3 packs a day. Sometimes a pipe. Rarely marijuana.
He is laying in bed in a hospital room. I walk into the room with my mother and sister. He’s in a gown, head shaved and Sharpie marks on his scalp. That’s where they focus the radiation. That’s where the brain tumors are. There are several marks. There are other places in his body that have cancer. Leg. Stomach. Chest.
He’s uncomfortable. He starts to squirm. He rolls onto his stomach, props himself up on his elbows and knees. My mother rubs his back. She whispers softly in his ear. She looks scared. So does he. This is the most vulnerable, tender moment I have ever seen them share. The pain passes.
He looks at me and asks me to buy him a pack of cigarettes. He hands me several dollar bills. I agree.
Our philosophies were in agreement on this day and many to follow. The world is a brief, harsh place and you find pleasure where you can.
I was not going to deny a dying man his last want or need.
We are on our way to my grandmother’s funeral.