The hardest part
About leaving anything
Is making the
Decision to leave
This includes love
Jobs and life
The hardest part
About leaving anything
Is making the
Decision to leave
This includes love
Jobs and life
Standing amidst fields
Of wheat I
Hear the delicate
Sound of wind
Pushing the kernels
Together like my
Mother’s brush on
Linoleum floors in
Other people’s homes
Standing here free
From those days
So long ago
This sound sings
Now to me
Degrees of simple
Silence a place
Of quiet forgiveness
For her many
Years of sadness
In this darkness
I wonder loss
Pretty things gone
Living in Hell
But still living
Not condemned or
Damned in silence
Ahead I spy
A new world
Filled with joy
Wonderments and miracles
Laughter and kisses
The sweet kisses
Of new-found love
To explore map
Typography of ribs
And hollowed cheeks
To peer into
The deep pools
Of someone’s eyes
And knowing certainly
I’m at home
Again once again
I wrote this long-handed while sitting in “The Olde Crapper,”
the oldest pub in Stow-on-the-Wold.
Typed, it remains identical except for the
“dopplestick” Altbier’s splay of creamy foam
due to the barmaid’s negligence and naiveté
of noteworthy Alt-style ales and their
distinctive yet dreadful character:
the infamously delicate and fragile froth
which collapses quicker than a slit souffle!
10 May, 2014
Dear (You):
Not writing to you doesn’t imply not thinking of you or your gracious patience since 3 February, 2014. That was the date of my last post which required wringing the writer’s dishcloth to honor the writer’s vow: To write no matter.”
Marcea, an insightful, honest, and very good friend (38 years) proposed “If writing is a catharsis, then I strongly suggest shifting your focus to gain perspective. If you force posts they’ll be “a whole lotta negativity” which no one wants to read.” And she was right. I spent months trying to frame what I went through, but everything devolved into a pity party or my selfishness or that I’m an unforgiving asshole. Then my partner mentioned an interview between Katie Couric and Hillary Clinton about forgiveness which ignited an epiphany underscoring families and catastrophic illnesses:

Many thanks to my partner (of 30 years) who lifted the burden of impossible tasks (cleaning out his house, and negotiating with lenders); my best friend Scott who travelled with me and discussed diagnoses and added a degree of levity.
And especially to Marcea who gambled friendship for honesty.
I could not have navigated the maze alone, and I am truly blessed by being their partner and friend.
P,S, I have several drafts for new posts “in the oven.” Keep an eye out for them.