Category: Life

Life

Lost

Sally3 Comments

One of my mother’s favorite sayings when something was lost was, “It’s always the last place you look.”

It’s funny, I suppose. I say it myself these days.

But it’s really NOT funny when you’ve lost something and looked EVERYWHERE. This has been the case for me this past week. I lost my new glasses. I have looked everywhere.

Everywhere.

And yet my mother keeps whispering in my ear, “Keep looking. It’s always the last place you look.”

Not helpful.

This post is brought to you by Linda Hill’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday for which the prompt was “favorite saying“.

Life

Symbiotic

Sally3 Comments

Okay — so there have been times in my life when I have started something and midway through stopped to ask, “Whose dumb idea was this?” Of course it was mine.

Of course it was.

When the JusJoJan prompt for today came up, I looked at the word — symbiotic — and thought, whose dumb was that?! I think you know the answer.

I had quickly submitted it as a prompt word while feeling very frustrated with the state of our country. We’re at odds with each other too much.

I think the beauty of our country has been that we don’t always have to agree. We are free to disagree. We are free to speak about what we believe. We are free to be who we want to be. AND we are free to seek a mutual good for us all.

Until now.

But I don’t want to focus on that.

Symbiosis is when two different species or organisms live intertwined lives.

Here are three different symbiotic relationships:

  • Commensalism
  • Mutualism
  • Parasitism

Commensialism is where one species benefits and the other remains neutral. An example is barnacles on whales. The barnacle benefits from the free ride and access to plankton; the whale is unaffected. In politics, it may be the politician who considers a bill doesn’t really affect his constituents and doesn’t come with a big pricetage. It may benefit another state significantly without costing him anything. He votes FOR it.

Mutualism is where both species benefit, like bees and flowers. In politics, this may be the behind-the-scenes negotiating on some big bill. The politician may say this part benefits me and that part benefits you. Let’s do it.

Parasitism is when one species benefits and the other is harmed. Ticks immediately come to mind. Blood-sucking disease-bearing arachnids that we can all do without. Political analogy? I’ll leave that up to you.

Life

A Matter of Opinion?

Sally8 Comments

I’m struggling — like most Americans these days. I watch the news and think I know beyond a doubt what I’m seeing. Yet, I have family members who watch the news and see something completely different.

I force myself to look at different news sources: Fox, CNN, Reuters, AP

I try to mentally sidestep to a different vantage point.

Personally, the immigrants I know are wonderful people. They have escaped repressive regimes. They have stories to tell. They love living and working here.

One friend, though, from Cuba, a naturalized citizen of the US, is afraid to leave her home these days. I told a family member about her.

“Why would she be afraid?” I was asked.

Umm… racial profiling? Her life experiences before the US? I could make guesses, but my life in no way mirrors her. I will never fully understand. But she’s my friend, and I can try to support her.

This shooting in Minneapolis? The videos are out and available, but everyone watches them differently. I see a woman who blocks the street with her vehicle, but then smiles at the officer, hands in plain view, and says, “I’m not mad at you.” Her partner is more aggressive, more profane. Is the driver trying to kill or harm the ICE officer? Judging her demeanor seconds before, I would say not. And someone (the officer?), after the shooting, can be heard saying “F*cking B*tch”. AND they won’t allow a doctor to attend to her.

But that’s how I see it. That’s my opinion.

An impartial and thorough investigation would be wise and prudent, but it doesn’t look like that’s going to happen either.

Judgments have been made.

I often wonder about Nazi Germany — and I know that even bringing it up sounds hostile. Still, at what point was the evil of Hitler clear? Was it when they were requiring yellow stars? Or was it when they were rounding people up onto cattle cars? Or was there some other trigger? What did mothers tell their children when this was happening to their neighbors?

I have family members — people I love — who see the ICE and Minneapolis thing differently. I found myself thinking about this poem this morning. Am I missing something? Am I not seeing the whole picture?

THE BLIND MEN AND THE ELEPHANT

by John Godfrey Saxe

IT was six men of Indostan
To learning much inclined,
Who went to see the Elephant
(Though all of them were blind),
That each by observation
Might satisfy his mind.

The First approached the Elephant,
And happening to fall
Against his broad and sturdy side,
At once began to bawl:
“God bless me!—but the Elephant
Is very like a wall!”

The Second, feeling of the tusk,
Cried: “Ho!—what have we here
So very round and smooth and sharp?
To me ‘t is mighty clear
This wonder of an Elephant
Is very like a spear!”

The Third approached the animal,
And happening to take
The squirming trunk within his hands,
Thus boldly up and spake:
“I see,” quoth he, “the Elephant
Is very like a snake!”

The Fourth reached out his eager hand,
And felt about the knee.
“What most this wondrous beast is like
Is mighty plain,” quoth he;
“‘T is clear enough the Elephant
Is very like a tree!”

The Fifth, who chanced to touch the ear,
Said: “E’en the blindest man
Can tell what this resembles most;
Deny the fact who can,
This marvel of an Elephant
Is very like a fan!”

The Sixth no sooner had begun
About the beast to grope,
Than, seizing on the swinging tail
That fell within his scope,
“I see,” quoth he, “the Elephant
Is very like a rope!”

And so these men of Indostan
Disputed loud and long,
Each in his own opinion
Exceeding stiff and strong,
Though each was partly in the right,
And all were in the wrong!

MORAL:

So, oft in theologic wars
The disputants, I ween,
Rail on in utter ignorance
Of what each other mean,
And prate about an Elephant
Not one of them has seen!

This is my response to JusJoJan’s prompt today: opinion

Life

The Usual

Sally5 Comments

Karen used to come to our table to take our order.

“How about you?” she would say when it was my turn. “The usual?”

The usual, for me, was a turkey reuben with sweet potato fries. It was something I always enjoyed and one less decision that I needed to make when I was at the restaurant with my father.

We ate at the Doubleday every Thursday night during the last few years of my father’s life. It’s like the bar Cheers from the old television show. Good pub food. Everybody knows your name.

Karen was our waitress. The night that my father died, some of my children went to the Doubleday to tell Karen. She was practically part of the family. She knew that what my father needed even more than the burger he often ordered was a hug when he arrived and when he left. And she delivered, with a kiss on the cheek.

The Doubleday is still my favorite restaurant in town. Karen is still the waitress who usually serves us. However, I don’t order the turkey reuben often. Now I have the luxury of looking at the menu or choosing from the specials.

This is my submission to Linda Hill’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday. The word was “usual.” I read it and knew exactly what to write about.

I’m struggling to write these days though. Can you tell?

Life · poetry

Framing a Moment

Sally7 Comments

Look. Take a snapshot and frame a moment:
[The deer too near the road frozen in fear]
[Tourist on black tarmac, the bestowment
Of a lei, Hawaii’s first souvenir]

A magnifying glass serves as a frame
That convex lens enlarging [blades of grass]
If dry, the grass might swiftly burst in [flame]
[The magnifier aims sun rays en masse]

I can make [a frame with fingers and thumbs]
And raise them high, see [bits of sky and cloud]
[Wispy white] turns [thunder gray] as [storm comes]
See [lightning flash], hear thunder crash too loud

The best of poems (I think you’ll agree)
Capture something intangible and small
A dumb thing overlooked you wouldn’t see
Unless there was a frame that brooked it all

Be mindful. Stop whatever else you’re doing and notice. Allow yourself to be seized by this…

~~ Frederick Buechner, The Remarkable Ordinary

This is my response to this week’s W3 Challenge. The Poet of the Week instructed us to write a poem that utilises internal rhyme where possible and keep the length between 8 and 16 lines.

Blather · Life

Before HIPAA

Sally3 Comments

I’ll admit — it’s a semi-irrational fear that I have of getting a fishhook stuck through my skin.

It may date back to the days when my father’s office was just off the Emergency Room. HIPAA hadn’t been born yet. I would cut through the Emergency Room to get to his office.

Which was a trailer.

Yes, it’s what you picture — the kind of structure that fills trailer parks.

When I got into the trailer, his office was on the left, opposite his secretary’s desk. Sometimes she was transcribing his dictated notes and would let me listen to his voice on the transcription machine as he said things like, “The patient was a white female, age 47, who presented with…”

Clearly another HIPAA violation. But HIPAA wasn’t a thing then. And I wasn’t paying attention to the words as much as his voice.

True story: These days I recognize people by their voices. More than once I would have walked right past my high school boyfriend had he not greeted me by name.

The other day, another person that I knew years ago walked past me and said, “Hey, Sal!”

The words got my attention, but the voice identified the speaker. I immediately knew him.

I mean, seriously, most men over the age of 70 look remarkably similar to me: gray hair or balding, scruffy beard, blue jeans, etc. Add a baseball cap and I’m sunk — until I hear their voice.

But I digress. I guess that’s how it is with stream-of-consciousness writing.

So, as a kid, I would cut through the Emergency Room on a daily basis. My pattern was to swim at the gym after school and walk to the hospital for my ride home. I would wait for my father to finish his day and we would walk together to his vehicle which was ALWAYS parked in the farthest spot available.

“It’s good exercise,” he would say as I complained about walking to the car.

One time, I saw one of my classmates in the ER. He had stabbed a pitchfork through his foot. Actually, through his work boot, and his foot, and out the other side. He was crying and cursing, obviously not having a good day.

I remember his name — but I won’t say it here. HIPAA and all that, you know.

The fishhook thing must date from those days. I think I saw someone in the ER with a fishhook in their cheek.

My father said, “They’ll just push it through and cut the barb.”

He made it sound easy.

But then, he didn’t have a fishhook in his cheek.

I remember my father explaining to me how the manure pitchfork through the foot presented a particular problem because of the risk of infection. Should they just pull it out? Cut the tip and pull it out? I think that’s what they did.

It doesn’t matter. The prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday wasn’t pitchfork. It was hook.

I can’t decide if I like stream-of-consciousness writing or not. It feels like a bunch of blather.

What do you think?

Life · poetry

I Am Lost

Sally7 Comments

A song to the tune: Beecher (aka Love Divine, All Loves Excelling)

I am lost —
Oh, can you help me?
To the airport I must go —
I don’t know
What language you’re speaking
Yet, to you, I tip my chapeau
You are one who knows this landscape
I am sadly ignorant
Yet, I trust you
To be honest
With this poor itinerant

I am lost —
Oh, can you help me?
I don’t know which way to turn!
Status quo?
Or major adjustment?
It’s so hard for me to discern!
Do I take some easy way out here?
Do I battle through some strife?
Someone, please, tell me what the way is
To steer safely through this life!

I am lost —
Oh, can you help me
Find the way to where I should be?
Life for me
Is so confusing
Do I make choice A or B?
C does really have some merit
D — I have ruled out thus far
Making choices
(Can I share it?)
Is so very hard for me

This is my response to the Unicorn Challenge. It’s easy-peasy, right? Except when it’s not. Write no more than 250 words and use the photo for a prompt.

Life is a struggle. I know, I know — this only happens to me. But it happens to me a lot.