Remembered



There is a spot of land at some corner of the world that may remember me. I’m hopeful. Oh it’s compressed and rearranged and slightly congealed with old engine oil or lizard dust, I don’t know, but I think I could find a few grains of sand or a fingernail of loam from that day.  Well, there were many days. It used to fill my fingernails, that soil under the grape vine next to the young deodar cedar that Dad planted I don’t know when.  But I think the grains of sand will remember; they would tell, if I could just stop and listen, with my finger tips.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

CLOC Club and adapting to the ongoing adventure

I recently received an invitation to a reunion for the CLOC Club.  That invitation took me back to the school year, 1976-77.  It was my second year at Reedley College.  Reedley is a Jr. or Community college, and it easy access for those of us who hadn't quite made up their minds yet, or just needed to save some money.  It took just 15 minutes to drive there from my parents' home.  That year I was also president of the CLOC Club. The letters stand for Christian Living on Campus, and its a chapter of Intervarsity Christian Fellowship.  We met twice a week for large group meetings and small group Bible study.  We also held several events, a weekend camp and a street theatre presentation of Noah's Ark by the Lamb's Players of San Diego.  While many of my friends scattered to distant regions after Reedley College, many of the CLOC Club members from those days stayed in close contact, and we tried to get together periodically.   I was happy fo...
Read more

The Phial of Galadriel and my pulmonary journey

 I have been a fan of J.R.R. Tolkien since my late teens when a church friend handed me a copy of the Fellowship of the Ring . In the decades since, I must have read the Lord of the Rings trilogy at least five times, along with The Hobbit .  I'm always drawn to the strange adventures of Bilbo Baggins, and later, his nephew, Frodo. My imagination is captured by Tolkien's lyric narrative and poetry. Caught up the heroic journeys, I can be distracted from my own struggles and relax for a while.  But this time, I realize that I'm also identifying with their fears and anxieties, because I'm dealing intensely with my own fears and anxieties, as I struggle with multiple health issues, including pulmonary fibrosis, weight loss, and increased anxiety that is directly related to my health.  I've coined the phrase "startle dream" to describe the experience of a sleepless night when I start to drift off to sleep, but then awaken with a start from a recurring dream, l...
Read more

Acts of giving thanks (Guest Writer: Walt Martzen)

Image
I've asked my son Walter to write a short thank you to everyone as well as further share my meal train link. Please enjoy, and happy holidays! My parents and I have felt your love, thank you! 💓 Something I observe is that in our modern world, simple acts can get overlooked in their ability to convey the most intimate and life-sustaining messages. Acts like these can seem simplistic or cliché or mushy or redundant, but they aren’t. They are the building blocks of connection, relationships, family, and community. It’s why my dad’s persimmon cookies don’t taste the same when someone else makes them, or why my mom’s soups really do seem to have magical elixir properties. When the spirit of God is with us, so is the spirit with the presence, gifts, and service that we make.  This might be new information for some, but my dad began at-home hospice recently to match his increasing medical needs. It's been a difficult new adventure for him and all of us, with many challenges yet oppor...
Read more