Saturday, December 25

silent morning

--  Silent Morning 2010  --

Christmas morning:  Nothing quite like the sound of snowy woods; everything is muffled as if the speed of sound has slowed to a standstill. So quiet I can hear the snow falling; tiny, almost imperceptible pitter-pats of flakes hitting the few remaining leaves. The near-silence broken only by the "skreee" of a distant hawk, and the chatter of a nearby squirrel.
Peace be with you.

Friday, December 24

goodbye

 --  Christmas Eve  2010  --

I had only talked to you a few times over the years, but I sobbed when I inadvertently found out you were gone.  Sobbed until my eyes and face were swollen, and I was exhausted.  Tears for each of us and for many reasons.  I wondered...no, I hoped you did not die alone.  A thousand miles kept me from attending your service, but my heart was there.

The holidays have brought me home, and I decided this afternoon, Christmas Eve, that I needed to see you.  I searched for you in the falling snow for over an hour.  I called out to you for guidance, as I did so many years before.  A fairly new grave should not have been so hard to find.  Then there you were.  Alone.  Not a shred of evidence that anyone but you had been there.  No flowers.  No footprints.  Not even a mound of fresh earth.  Nothing, but a small marker that I nearly missed poked into the smooth barren ground.  I sobbed once more.  You deserved better.  My footprints will be gone before anyone notices someone cared enough to stand there and talk to you.  I left you a flag because you were a veteran, and a rose because you were loved. 

My world is strange sometimes.  I had looked at old photos of you and I just a couple of days before I found out.  I smiled even though my heart had ached so long ago.  You were such an influence.  The past 26 years of my life would have been completely different had I not known you as I did.  I hoped I would run into you over the holidays.  I did...I talked to you today, and again I sobbed.

Friday, November 26

happy birthday, alice

How wonderful that Alice of "Dancing Under the Gallows" is celebrating her 107th birthday today, which is also the National Day of Listening.
I hope more people take the time to listen to this remarkable woman's story. 

(In case you didn't know, Alice is the oldest living survivor of the Holocaust.  Her compassion, tolerance, and more importantly, forgiveness are inspiring.)

Sunday, November 21

invisible

feeling quite invisible
not the cool superpower
an afterthought
the elephant in the middle of the room
it fucking hurts

apparently also disposable

-------

But there is a light
The dear one
Held as close
Defended and loved
Seen and heard
Hearfelt

Monday, November 8

Alice


Beautiful.

At 107, Alice is the oldest living survivor of the Holocaust, and she is nothing short of inspiring.
I can only hope to ever have a fraction of her strength and passion.
Please watch the video, and take some of it into your heart.

More information on Alice Herz-Sommer

Video at aish.com - Holocaust Studies

[If the videos and links no longer work, my apologies.  It keeps getting moved or removed from sites from which I've obtained it.]

Sunday, November 7

sunshine and fresh air

...like milk, it does a body good.
--  Playing in the Light   2010  --

Monday, November 1

amy's midweek thoughts about mid-life

Amy's site has moved/restructured, and so far I can't put it in the sidebar. I'll keep looking for a workaround, but until now, here's a link to a recent post to get to her site.
Happy Monday.

Midweek thoughts about mid-life