My Favorite Poem I've Ever Written

I am surprised but I just about if not actually cry every time I read this. I am pretty proud of this poem. 

love

kj

Astonishment:

If I were dying tonight,

Lying in my bed with plastic tubes and half-filled bottles

on the small table nearby 

and bedpans and oxygen there to diminish any shame, 

Perhaps forcing my breaths

with the strength of a desperate parent

who implausibly and frantically lifts two tons 

of mangled steel off a broken daughter—

If I were dying tonight and I wished to tell you

What will astonish you,

I would tell you this:

Be sure to notice white flowers in the moonlight, 

Because the softened glow is like no other.

Appreciate the lingering scent of garlic on your fingers, 

Because healing is possible from that alone.

Tell the truth when it matters least

Because then you will be sure there is another honest person in the world.

Always spend the extra money for dimmers

Because light that builds in intensity and then gently fades is 

 good for your spirit.

Over and over, ask yourself, “What is the lesson here?”

Because then you will forever be a student and never a victim

Never believe for a moment that the world is going to hell

Because you only need to love outside yourself to know better. 

If I were dying tonight, I would tell you all this

Because astonishment is brethren to curiosity,

Which leads to observation,

And dedication,

And finally appreciation.

If I were dying tonight, perhaps there would only be minutes,

Perhaps only seconds, 

To tell you that I will leave with all the love

I have ever felt, and ever given.

I will take it all with me, tucked under my angel wing—

The accumulation of grace from every breath I have ever taken.

Here’s what’s astonishing:  I will also leave all that love behind, 

It will be imbedded in my daughter’s stunning light and my partner’s quiet 

courage,

It will guide my friends and coworkers when the layoff comes. 

My brother will remember how I tried to do my share

And Joey will find someone else like me to help him tame his fears.

Even the woman at the grocery store that day I let her go ahead of me—

will remember how we were both comforted from that simple act.

If I were dying tonight, I would also tell you

That within, under, because of, and from the little moments 

Comes all the wonder and astonishment you could ever hope for.

The little moments that aren’t so little.

I would tell you to let those moments astonish you.

I would tell you this because it is all you need to know.

Vacation Time

I am finally back in Provincetown. With JB and Chase. In our new sweet house. I'm walking with canes. But walking better. And the ocean is everywhere.

JB and I are here for one week and a day or two. We got an offer on our condo and my surgery is behind us, so we are trying to get back to  relaxing--not always easy. Boy the world is a mess. Syria and Egypt and Miley Cyrus on stage in her underwear, and racially, even worse. 

This is not a typical  time in Provincetown. We have moved from a quiet location one block from all the action to the quiet East End on a busy street. That, and I cannot walk far. I should say that the folks at physical therapy say I need more patience because I am doing really well for 7 weeks after major surgery, but I don't like being impaired walking. And I'm uncomfortable with some degree of pain most of the time. Maybe so for another month or two. 

Tonight lounged on the couch we passed JB's IPad back and forth, resulting in this drawing. This is an app called Making Paper 53.  I learned about it from Silke's blog. It has paint colors and different sizes and functions of pens and pencils and paint brushes. And an eraser. All easy peasy to use and fun to create drawings and doodads. And then to store them.

Plans for tomorrow:   breakfast

                                  read two chapters of my book aloud to JB (could be difficult)

                                  work in the little yard weeding and pruning

                                  go to the provincetown pool and lounge and bob

For me, it's been a quiet summer on the blogs. I have an unsettled feeling that Facebook has made the blogs less essential, and I hope that is not true because I love blogging. 

Best wishes with love

kj

Moist

Some time ago I stopped writing poetry. I am not happy about that so this is about that.
love 
kj

Where is that well of words;

gurgled streams moving

through the right and best place,

a channel for my brand

of perplexity and observation?

Those words used to flow

 sputter and drip too;

they'd drench me with the chance

to rightly see--

A waterfall it was, 

no effort just gravity; 

just my keyboard,

and feeling fingers.

I stopped writing water words:

now I think but don't record

and I don't know why. 

But I still turn to the the waves and trees.

and I still try.

I know this much: what yearns

Is just the whether

of a waiting sky.

Thoughts About Family

I noticed something a while back.

When I talk about my family, I mean JB and Jess and her family.

When Jess talks about her family, she means Mike and the kids. 

I could be sensitive and sometimes I am. Jess is number one to me (forgive me JB, please understand) and I am number six to her. That is the normal arc of the circle. I know that when I am needed, whenever there is big news, I will be sought and I will be there in a flash. I have not achieved true elder status yet but I do think my daughter is proud of who I am. 

But look at her and look at Mike and now their four children. This is a happy family. This is all I could ever want and hope for for my beloved Jess. Too often I struggle with questions like do I spend enough time with them? Do I help enough? Should we move closer? Too often I find no answers, but when I look at this picture, taken two days ago on Logan's second birthday, I know the best use of Jess' day-to-day and my day-to-day is that we rejoice in our collective well being, whether the physical distance between us is near or far.  Because we will always find one another at the big moments and in the little treasures. I am sure of that. 

I love this girl and her family to the moon and back. I would step in front of a moving train for any of them. Jess knows that and that has nothing to do with anything except abiding love. And I know, even at number six, I am equally loved in return.

I am so lucky proud. 

love

kj

A Dog Named Chase

He is the size of a deer. He has a seizure disorder, a broken ankle that was never fixed, he's missing half his teeth. His medication costs more than our monthly electric bill and has to be given every twelve hours, meaning either JB or I are up early each morning and have to plan ahead for his evening dose. He howls like a wolf several times a night, waking us from a sound night's sleep and he turns his head when we try to give him treats, even chicken. Until this week, he has refused to do his business while on a leash, requiring major planning whenever he is anywhere but in our fenced in backyard.

JB and I did not sign up for all this when I had a dream about a dog named Chase and then there he was on Petfinder, Chase, a six year old retired greyhound who was lucky to be rescued rather than put down. I do not like having a dog who must be on a leash when not in a fenced area because, we're told, he will hit 58 miles a hour in four strides and has no knowledge of traffic and no nose to find his way back home.

The howling has been almost the worse, but Chase's aloofness is the hardest of all. We have been trying to woo him with soft words, body rubs, cookies, comfort. Sometimes he will make eye contact but most often he barely moves. Sometimes he sleeps twenty three hours a day, at least four of those hours the effect of his seizure medication. He will not come when we call him, does not play, rarely wags his tail. Sometimes he just stands there, ignoring us. 

BUT.

Dear Chase,

We are noticing differences. We can see that you are trying. We are so happy that we've finally found cookies that excite you, that you come for them when we call you. We are so happy you like being scratched under your neck, and don't think we don't know that you are looking at us more; that you come in the den and stay with us each morning while we have our coffee. 

This week you traveled with us much more easily. Thank god your bathroom habits have become more flexible. We know you like routine and it's unfortunate you ended up with a family who gallivants more than stays settled. But we'll try to be your routine; us and your dog bed. 

You cannot continue to howl at night. A dog behaviorist has made suggestions and you do seem to be doing better. We can handle one howl a night until you figure out you don't need to howl at all. We know you lived in a crate 23 hours a day when you raced, and probably many other dogs howled too. We know you have not had a close relationship with a person or a family and that living in a house with people is totally foreign to you. We know that you have had to learn to live and cope in ways that we cannot even imagine. 

Yes we have wondered if we are the right placement for you. Yes the greyhound adoption agency would take you back without question. But no you are not at risk of being sent back. We want this to work.

And this week, for the first time, it seems like you want it to work too. We're glad.

Love from

us your family

For Deborah xo

This is Reese. She is one month old. I am highlighting her for my friend Deborah, who has a little grand girl of her own and whose family has been unfairly targeted by fecking cancer. I hope she makes you smile, Deb. 

Reese is the fourth child of my beloved and only child, Jessica. From age seven, Jess grew up in a two Mom household and I would have bet all my riches she would never have four children. Reese has three brothers, Mr. Ryan 6, No Longer Baby Drew 4, and Logan almost 2. 

We expected a fourth boy. It has actually be a shock that Reese is a girl. Which is interesting.

How petty to admit it's partially about the clothes. Boys' clothes are really boring; I'd be surprised to hear much disagreement about that. Already I've bought Reese a fall knit dress even as I lay on the couch nursing my new knee. 

But it's more than just the clothes. I've worried about my daughter when I am too old to take care of her. I've looked at her boys and I've guessed it will be Drew who will care for her most and best when she is old and needs care. I look at the situation with my brother and myself and I thank god there is me to tend to our Mother. Forgive me because I know there are exceptions, but we girls get it better: we understand nurturing and care giving and we seem to accept what is needed and expected. 

So I am glad my Jess will have a daughter.

But not just that either. I expect I will do different things with Reese. Maybe not. I imagine simply by nature of being a girl that she may be calmer than the boys. Maybe more interested in spending time coloring and cooking and going through my jewelry box and not as much physical rough housing. I KNOW I may be wrong here; I really do. But still, it feels different. 

Reese's two youngest brothers kiss her every morning and evening, want to hold her, speak softly to her. Do they react differently because she is a girl? Will they wrestle with her in the same way? And will they tend to protect her in ways different from their bonds with one another? 

Don't get me wrong. I love these boys. Adore them. Every year JB and order their pajamas for the year. 

It is the most fun thing. Mr. Ryan via his Mother sent us a photo yesterday. He was excited to try on his new pajamas. 

Last year just about this time I bought Mr. Ryan a big boy camera for my birthday. It was quite an event: I took him to a camera store and a very nice man taught him some basic instruction. I told him this is something he and I will do together for years; gallivanting and taking pictures. At the time Jess politely said to me, "You can't be serious that you bought a real camera for a five year old?"

Well yes I did. Last weekend Jessica told me, "Wait until you see the photos Ryan took at the beach--pretty amazing." I am not surprised. This will be one of I hope several assets he will carry into life which will help him feel competent and curious. That's what assets do: they build up your self esteem.

I am so glad.

 

Love

kj

Where I'm Not

I am not here.

Hanging these fab party lights was the last thing JB and I did before we left the new house in Provincetown and before I had surgery secretly praying that I would wake up the same me. 

This is the longest I've gone without the urge or push to blog. It must be because I've been home recuperating and I am without my normal tools of camera and pen. Instead I've been sleeping and bending and slowly reading the daily paper.

This is about to change. This week I will see the surgeon who will tell me I can drive again and I will forego a cane for my own stiff knee and physical therapy where there is an exercise bike and weights.  Tomorrow I will write again. I have sixty pages to pull in shape for submission to a certain agent I want to pick up my novel. I want a $ 5000 advance and I am envisioning that happening. :^)

Ah but this deck in Provincetown. I cannot believe this will too be part of my life. 

I stopped work just before this surgery and for the first time in my adult life I will have no schedule I must keep. I have a consulting gig I can do at my own pace from home; I have a novel to finish; I have a garden that welcomes me anytime. I have a family and small children who live two hours away. I have worries and chores. But I also have a clean clear canvas. I don't know what I will do. I can easily find myself staying close to home, staying inside all day even, and I know that will not be good for me. I'm a social sort. I like contributing and I like attention.

I'm glad to be posting this tonight. It's a good sign for me. I'm just about off the heavy meds. Last night I made soup. Tonight I emptied the dishwasher. I've taken a shower. Normal life. 

Normal life. This is my current worthy grateful goal and I'll be fine if it turns out to be anything but normal. 

love love

kj

My Life On Drugs

I am on my third week of oxycodone for pain control and I have some observations:

1. It works

2. Best to avoid provocations of all kinds, to or from my direction

3. I am ready to reclassify two friends for inattention to my present circumstance. I may or may not give them the option of explanation

4. What's wrong with being a little confused?

5. Most people would know I mean biscuit when I say that bread thing.

6. Oh is that why I'm so sensitive?

7. Yes I will wait on that list of grievances until I'm off the meds--but it's still a good list.

8. So now I know not to cut down the dose so abruptly.

9. I may on occasion repeat myself.

10. It works.

Hello there, I've been sick for the past few days to bodily complications (the nurse called it 'the bashful bowel) but today I'm on the mend again and have graduated from using a walker to using a cane. To use similar medical terms, my knee is a bashful bender. 

I promise I won't write post after post about my surgery and rehabilitation. I wish these oxycodones wanted to write poetry but no; so far they prefer reruns of Judge Judy and Words with Friends at 4 am. I have been discouraged for a few days but I'm back on track and practicing walking on uneven ground. Which by the way I should have plenty of experience with already :^)

love 

kj

Thursday Thirteen etc.

 JB, who is weary enough taking care of me and handling all the chores around her, is standing at the bedroom door at 3 am. She is holding a half dozen metal hangers and is not happy.

"I can't sleep. I'm going upstairs."

'Okay," I say.

I toss in bed for ten minutes, fretting that she is exhausted with a work day ahead of her.

Then I remember we don't have an upstairs. 

An actual hallucination: the oxycodone has gotten to me.

I've begun to wean off the stuff. It's made me sick and I'm unreliable. There is already an increase in pain but not too bad. I'm rounding week two and still better than expected.

_______________________________________________________________________________

I haven't done Thursday Thirteen in a long while. So why not tonight:

Where I was in the hospital

Where I wish I were

Wishes for a friend's hot heavy move this weekend

Thanks to Liz who stayed for three days and tracked down the drugs

When I think of my father

Instant smiles = zinnias plus salt and pepper shakers

Where I gave it up and asked to move on

 When love just is (JB and my Mother)

When the kitchen got remodeled

When three boys and one girl was just two boys

When I forget

Where I love

And where is Emily?!!

love

kj

Days

 I am making my surgery sound easier breezier than it actually is. The truth is I have been taking 10 mg of Oxycodone every three hours to stay ahead of the pain.

But.

I kind of am doing pretty well. JB is fixing me wonderful meals, ice packs feel like the Atlantic Ocean in August, and I am finding my disposition is more affable than I expected.

There are some new additions that make me smile wide:

Hello Baby Reese. Please let your Mother get a good night's sleep. You have the most elegant fingers and toes and I can't wait to see what you do with them.

Hello Chase. So you've loved having us home with you like this. No, we don't mind scratching you all over; in fact, we're glad you're starting to respond to us. Did I hear a contented sigh?

Hello Jess. Happy Birthday favorite daughter. We sent you giant helium balloons because we thought the boys would love them but we are never sure what to get you for a real present. I think I will order polka dot towels and sheets from the Garnett Hill sale catalogue. How could you not like soft plush aqua polka dots?

Today was my first day outside in almost two weeks. With the help of JB I and my new friend the walker went to see my Mother at her nursing home. What a joy. She is so happy there. What a shock. I asked one of the nurses how she was doing and she broke into a wide smile. "We love her," she said.  I believe it.

On Monday my staples come out, all twenty four of them. I will now never enter an Elder Beauty Pagent that has a bathing suit portion.

On Tuesday an editor who has reviewed the first 60 pages of my novel comes here to give me her feedback page by page. She has followed this manuscript through several carnations and she honest to god now says it is GOOD. Actually I think it is too. Actually I am not sure how or when or even if this book will be published. But Actually I am relieved I can write the damn story to a level I feel good about.

I felt more like myself tonight than I have. That won't replace the fact that I'll be icing this knee at 3 am but did I already say the ice feels as refreshing as the Atlantic Ocean in August?

Thank you for so many well wishes. I have never appreciated my blog and even pain-in-the-ass Facebook so much.

Best wishes for a good week,

love

kj

wishing for (frozen) peas

What a relief.

I woke up in the recovery room dazed and delighted that there I was, all of me, able to nod, smile, feel.

I had a knee replacement with plenty of warnings and preparation: "could take up to a year before you're fully recovered," "the first two weeks are the worse," "take the meds and don't let the pain get ahead," "plan for three months of heavy rehab."

Yes.

I am now home seriously taking oxycodone every few hours, sleeping, icing, pushing my left leg to bend a fraction of an inch more than yesterday. I am confident I am going to be okay and with help and in time I am going to reclaim my gait and step.

I have strong memories and experiences already.

My hospital experience was incredible. The nurses and nurses' aides and therapists were so competent I felt safe and almost relaxed throughout. They managed my pain incredibly well. They were efficient and reliable. I pushed a button; they came.

When I was discharged, I gave a 60 year old aide named Maria the flowers JB had brought me and I gave a young nurse named Dante a copy of my book. We had connected in the four days I was there.

They had their own confidence in how well and how much they pushed me. They made me walk.

I've come home to home services in place. The visiting nurses have been a bit disorganized and inconsistent but the physical therapist--the person I must rely on most for rehab-- is a already a gem. She is working me to the max and with wheels and a walker I am able to get from one end of the house to another. I feel new muscles appearing in my leg.

The pain has been much less than I expected. I am foggy and spacey by the time dinner rolls around. Thankfully JB is watching that I take these meds as I'm supposed to. I am awakened around two am each night knowing that I need to ice the knee fast. What relief from that! I've learned to sleep on my back, to move my leg carefully, to push one more time.

Our friend Liz left last night after staying with me for three days while JB worked. (Maybe I will write about our collective saga of my running out of meds and the crazy mess of having them refilled.) Each day I have gotten some cards and little presents, and today, these amazing miniature chocolates from Suki.

Each day I am aware that I have two things going for me that makes all the difference:

I connect. And I appreciate. 

The nurse who came today was very overweight and was covered with layers of clothing that must have made the already horrid effects of 99 degree temperature unbearable. She was serious and professional and covered up in more ways than one. I went out of my way to respect her. We both benefited. 

This is my report so far from the frozen peas and frozen corn section of chez rehab. 

How nice to be saying hello

love

kj

So There, Surgery!

Not easy to type in a hospital bed
Interruptions all night from my feet to my head
Running a race ahead of the pain
And winning because I have to have gain

There goes my summer, no ocean no beach
No gallivant, spinning, no trips within reach.
A new knee has appeared and man is it tight;
I'll be bending for months to make it alright!

Tomorrow I'm home, confined to a space
That's cozy familiar and at my own pace
I 'll be rehabbing and bitching, a step at a time
Until I can walk a happy straight line .

But hey, I'm alive and the surgery's done;
A few months ahead of make-my-own fun.
I was scared for a bit and now I'm over it
At least I can sleep and I'm inching toward sit.

I won't cook clean or garden, instead I'll be viewing
CNN and Judge Judy and I won 't be stewing.
Things could be worse, that's for damn sure
So excuse me for saying I feel pretty sore!

Hello everyone, it's me, kj. It's one am and I've been woken up five times now for pills, prods and pulse. It's not been as bad as I thought it would be. I'm not in horrible pain, just normal pain. I 'll be home in twelve hours and my Olympic try outs begin with a physical therapist and visiting nurse :-)

Getting through the surgery is such a huge relief . So, I'm typing this on my iPhone , excuse my typing errors, and I'm suspending complaining for the next 24 hours. After that, maybe, maybe not :-)

Thanks for rooting me on. It's meant so much.

Love
kj

Lists

I'm getting ready for a flight of my own. Tuesday, a surgery that I'm advised will (I prefer the word 'could') restrict my activity level for three months. Yikes! No driving for one month, maybe two weeks of real drugs for pain, and no fooling around physical therapy to get my knee and body moving again.

Fortunately I've been busy enough that I am not dwelling on anything but getting organized and thinking I'll do okay.  And preparing lists. Mostly lists so JB knows what I know if I'm too drugged to care. But some non-essential lists too: 

6 things I want to hear in the recovery room:

1. Wake up. You're alive!

2. You were one of the most entertaining patients we've had in the operating room in years

3. Hmmm, your pain is so much less than expected.

4. You won't be hungry so you might lose 20 pounds

5. After the first few weeks, swimming in the ocean will be good for you. 

6. You really enjoy complaining, don't you?

6 iloveyous

my best friend willa died of cancer eight years ago. When a couple of months later her kids arranged a memorial for her in a large gym about six people who addressed the crowd said willa was their best friend. 

This still makes me laugh. i had no idea willa had any other best friend besides me! that she was somehow  all of that and more to five or six other people who didn't all even know each other was quite a feat. and not one of us got less from her. 

So 6iloveyous from me? It's a good thing love multiplies!  To 6 special people, give or take, now and always, thanks for being in my life. thanks for putting up with me. thanks for laughing at my jokes. thanks for feeding me. and JB and Jess, double triple quadruple thanks. 

3 very great things:

1. JB and I managed to buy the house in ptown!

2. my Mother likes the nursing home ALOT!

3. Jessica just had a healthy baby girl!

3 pretty good things:

1. i no longer have a work deadline

2. chase is slowly showing signs of bonding with us

3. maybe provincetown in september

3  not-so-good things :

1. rehab for a knee replacement is significant

2. our ptown condo hasn't sold

3. i wish JB could stop working

3 important things to know: 

1. Life gets harder so it's best to learn to flow, float and figure

2. What an incredibly beautiful exquisite planet

3.Sooner or later things almost always get better

If I don't post again until I do, I'll be back with a new ability to set off airport security alarms. I know you wish me well and honestly, thanks so much for that.

love love

kj

Happy Story

 This is the story of a family of a mother, father, three little boys, and three grandmothers. 

Everyone expected the birth of a fourth little boy. Science was on the side of that assumption. 

Everyone is shocked that a baby girl has arrived instead. 

Her name is Reese Elizabeth. She is going to have three older brothers who wrestle and chase monsters and chances are they will treat her both rough and soft so that when she grows up she will be both tough and tender.

 Reese and her brothers live in a new house and they have a new yard where they will be able to swing, run, dance and play baseball.

 Reese's grandmothers are ready with the nail polish.

Reese's brother Drew also wants his fingers and toes polished. His Mother and Father do not like that idea, probably because the world is not really gender neutral, even with smart parents.  His grandmothers might one day quietly paint Drew's fingers and toes anyway.

And when the time comes, Reese's fingers and toes will be no doubt be painted in the open.

After all, let's get real: what is a passionate life without nail polish?

(welcome baby reese. We already love you madly)

love
kj

Two Homes

# 9 is where I live. I'm told the richness of the soil in my yard is second only to a spot in Egypt. I have lived here for 8 years in a one story ranch house that is cozy. There will come a time when JB and I will move, probably to Provincetown and possibly close to my beloved Jessica and her family. But I will miss # 9. I will miss all the shrubs and trees and perennials I have planted; each season I plant like a turtle. I only do yard work that makes me happy. Because there are farms everywhere surrounding the college town where I live, I can buy hostas for $ 2-3 each and perennials for even less. Plant sales are abundant. Nothing could make me happier.

I am making progress. The yard is filling out.

In February JB and I came across a 1300 square feet house in Provincetown. We have had a condo in this town by the sea for many years, but this was a house! A rare house we could afford! We could make our own decisions, have more privacy.

We closed in April and put our dear condo on the market. Not a nibble so far. This is official high finance anxiety. We are so nervous we are ordering a Saint Joseph statue that comes with instructions to bury poor Saint Joseph upside down and then your house will sell. JB and I tip the odds when we can, so we're contracting with Saint Joe.

Meanwhile, we are obligated to rent out this house in Provincetown and in the past few months we are doing our best to get it cleaned up and ready for weekly renters. This has been a formidable task due to the fact that the house is old and I've been preoccupied with my Mother's move to a nursing home, my daughter's pregnancy, and my every loving ##@@&** knee problem that selfishly is demanding surgery.

But we've HAD to do what we can make the place attractive. We are on the home stretch. We've needed paintings and wall hangings. This is what we did today and it has been fun. These first shots are three ocean scenes painted on wood blocks. We've had them for a few years and finally they now have a home on our stairs Kind of an odd place but they look pretty nice.

 I am not doing this mixed media piece justice. The light was not right when I took these pictures. My  friend Joss painted and collaged this example of her fantastic South African art. She has earned success--how awesome! The true colors are so much more vibrant that I am showing you. But here it is above the sectional couch in this new house by the sea. How great.

And in the hallway to the kitchen now hangs Marianne's mandala, gifted to me because I just totally loved it and Marianne is a wonderful generous friend.

The little hall also leads to a back yard private deck. The house has very little yard but it has this deck. But first look here: how wrong that during a beautiful hopeful summer there is a crutch in this picture?!! Oh well. A time for patience, weight loss, and rehab. Oh well. Okay...I say. 

JB and I hung pictures, organized the kitchen, AND strung lights on that deck off the hall. I took this photo from the kitchen window through the screen. How awesome is this?! No doubt we and our family and friends will sit on this deck with the sparkly lights, look up to the ocean scented sky, and shout "Thank You, Thank You, Thank You." 

I'm not exactly saying life is easy: it most certainly is not. But there are moments when you get to hang the artwork of special people and string patio lights on a tall wood fence and that's quite lovely.

Here's wishing you some of the same. xo

Love

kj