A rose the symbol of love and passion
To live is to love.
Ah, the passion of living.
Each moment precious.
Each day and year collecting
The good, the bad and
Even the ugly part of life.
Each experience precious
My collection growing
As my hair is greying.
My appreciation of life’s variety
Expands until it Is boundless.
Originally written: January 11, 2004
I sat across from a friend and listened to the stories he was telling about his life. The stories reflected growing up in an envronment of anger and hate. Later, I was reminiscing on the conversation and how different my life was. I grew up in a poor family wearing hand-me-downs and shoes purchased from Goodwill stores. I admit there were days we hated our unreasonable father.
My sister was the only sibling that remained home to finish high school. All four boys got their high school diplomas later and several went on to college. I came the closest to staying at home until I finished high school. I left two weeks before graduation and went into the military receiving my diploma in the mail. As we grew into teenagers each of us began to have
an increasing number of conflicts with our father.
Yet, I must say we were privileged to grow up in that environment. We can face any challenge and know how to survive even thrive. Each experience we have had whether it was good, bad, or ugly enriched us. As I have grown in age, wisdom has provided a view of past happenings that has morphed from distaste to appreciation. In discussions with my brothers we discovered each of us has confidence in our abilities instilled by having been through difficult times.
I would even go so far as say each brother has a passion for living.
To observe the instant a child learns is a miracle.
I am amazed,
And in awe.
To see a baby,
Or a young child
Caught in the act,
Of seeing something for the first time.
The arms, legs
of constant motion stops.
The eyes open wide
Seem to be absorbing.
It is as if I can see
The child’s mind learning.
It is a wondrous sight,
A treasured moment.
Originally written: January 11, 2004
I saw a baby in a stroller see a robin sitting on a branch for the first time. I was totally captivated by the baby staring at the bird. For it’s part the robin chirped and chirped calling for a mate. The child stopped all motion and just looked at the bird. I could see her eyes widen and focus on the bird. It was absorbing and the thought came to mind was the baby was learning. I was elated to have watched the child see the robin red breast for the first time.
Reap the day,
The winter may be hard,
We fight on!
Originally written: Thursday, November 27, 2003
Autumn is a time of gathering the crops in, cooking, smoking, and preserving the food in any way possible for use in the winter. We had a cold cellar for potatoes, carrots, onions, and apples. This has been the way for centuries for farmers and small towns. Today, we live in a city and food is flown in from Chile and other southern hemisphere places to offset the winter season we are experiences. Yet, in the out of the way villages the traditional ways are slow to die away.
After autumn and the bounty of the harvest comes the winter. Winter time can be very hard. I remember winters with snow banks eleven feet in height. Last winter in southwestern Colorado they received nine feet of snow in 4 days. Several buildings in the small town collapsed. The town ran out of places to put the snow and had to lease a farmers field for depositing the excess snow from the town. I remember a winter that had temperatures hovering in the minus 40 degree range in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. A neighbor slipped and fell breaking her wrist. It was a time when people restricted their activities. In 2003 Denver received 4 foot of snow in 3 days. People living in the mountains on private roads were trapped until they could get plowed out which took more than a week.
It was a time of people coming together to help each other. Our neighborhood and many others shoveled a road through the snow to allow one car to travel out to a main road that was being plowed by the county as an emergency route. Friendships formed in the middle of fighting the storm have lasted for the last nine years.