Insight

 I weep the tears for two forgotten years and slightly more it seems

I cry inside to hide the feelings 

in between my cats comfort me

I weep for what and whom we lost 

I weep for opportunity

I hide all this inside myself I don't leak [on screen]

getting by barely but against the wall 

and yet fortunate it seems

but for grace or luck or charm these are lost into this the dream

I worry about all those I know and all I love today

I fear that we will lose yet more 'cuz crazy wins the day

these things I feel they're crushing me

and yet I cannot say to you

I could lose in these uncertain times

I hope I pray but religious not 

besides she doesn't take my calls

But I get up each morning and do it again

and I hope that we do not fall

Red Cross

For the first time in at least 10 years I have given blood.

Worth it.

Like Wow! man... Happy New Year.

Inspired by a phone call by a former roommate of years gone by; 

I spent the "Xmas" holidays in Portland, Oregon visiting Mom, sister and other assorted loose-linked family.  I didn't get to some of my other longest-association friends; but I will be back.

Hopefully, Mom will still be there. 

Flying was an adventure, because the airline (Southwest) had changed my scheduling about 5 times before I actually flew.  They were attempting to manage / forestall more of the disconnections that occured some months past; when the S*** hit the fan because of Covid, weather and staffing issues (perfect storm).

It's like that.

Because my sister likes cheaper alcohol, I was lugging some bottles of bonded beverage in my checked luggage and that overflowed my regular allotment such that I was rather overburdened; but it was well received at destination. (oh my back)...

Somehow, soda pop over ice and a handful of pretzels do not a meal make.

I did remember beef jerky and fruit for the return flights.

Now... back to work?

I weep for the loss of innocence

 I used to believe in romance, and the "happily ever after".

Now I take comfort in the smaller wins; a smile, a purr.

I no longer believe in the grand design.

Three fathers.

 I weep quietly in the night.

"Do androids dream of electric sheep?"
I pray my soul be mine to keep.
I miss those who go before,
Another father figure through the door.

I had three to hold on high.
First my father, biological and pride.
He suffer'd through the War number two. 
It scar'd him there, through and through.
He never talked about it though the years; 
He felt it though, in unshed tears.
He only told the story of 
his return alone with one buddy on
a troopship playing cards 
but not
every saying anything about
that time.

The second was an honorary post,
a sage and wise councilor 
giver of advise and praise.
He said "dear boy" and made me feel
that love felt but not revealed.
His family though, took exception to
my mother's affection and in spite of that
I think she felt unwanted and...
left the situation feeling less than that.

So, the third was the last companion
of my mother who never lacked for those.
Appreciated for her worth and value
that this one was also gentle and kind,
he passed today, with family around.

All were part of shaping me, 
all had value and shared it free
of charge or fee.
All were upstanding and some you'd know.
But, the point of it is what they show.

We all have value, I know I have mine.
The love shown to me, 
the example fine.
I take that with me, so they're not gone.

They live in my heart, as examples

As song.

Elemer, Brage, Bernie... 
you will always have a home in my heart.
(My mother does also, but she already knows that).

Honor and Guilt

From a discussion with a full-blooded Japanese American friend.

 Japanese have honor.

Jews have guilt.

I have at various times, made less-than-ideal decisions with regard to the animals in my stewardship, or been around the situation where I could have / should have helped and failed to do the right thing.  In retrospect.

 We lost my first cat  because when we took her during evacuation for a fire, I didn't keep her with me in a carrier in the room I was in... so she got out and got *lost*.  I was a kid at the time, but it still hurts.

When I went to UCSD to go to school, my father put down one of my doggies because he was *uncontrollable* and Dad was afraid of him.  I didn't even know and wasn't told until later.  (I very much doubt that the dog was uncontrollable.)The cat I left with my Mom when I was hopping from abode to abode, she left behind when she moved to San Diego, and I really didn't think it through; and he died (under the old house we lived in) sometime thereafter.

The cat I took with me to Fountain Valley, I had put too sleep because he had FeHIV, because I was afraid that he would infect the neighborhood cats and my then roommate would NOT under any circumstances bar him from leaving my room and going outside.  I didn't even hold him while they put him to sleep.

I made a promise to myself that I would never do anything like that again.  It drives my moral code.  It is who I am, and who I want to be. It hurts my heart when I consider those actions; and I try to do better / learn from them.

When my Mom (who otherwise I absolutely trust) makes statements that I should not do something with regards to the cats or the bunny... etc I realise that the gut reaction I have to that is based upon my prior history and failures.

I didn't even know Baby was sick until I couldn't find her, and she seized and died with me in attendance before the vet clinic opened.

I promised myself I would not-be-that-person Ever again. I spent a lot of money on Mr Taffy, Molly, and cats Baby/Pippi/Saido to make sure that they had a good life.  Not doing so was unthinkable; and I did have the funds.

Now, I'm trying to do it on a shoestring budget.  But, it isn't in me to be that pragmatic, they are my charges, my children, and I cannot do less.  I will at least try.

That's why I'm so defensive about it.

 John Stuart Mill, who delivered an 1867 inaugural address at the University of St. Andrews and stated: “Let not any one pacify his conscience by the delusion that he can do no harm if he takes no part, and forms no opinion. Bad men need nothing more to compass their ends, than that good men should look on and do nothing. He is not a good man who, without a protest, allows wrong to be committed in his name, and with the means which he helps to supply, because he will not trouble himself to use his mind on the subject.”

I am not perfect; as you well know.  But, I will do what I can to be better than the day before.

I speak to my Mom almost every night.

 I call my Mom almost every evening; it has become a tradition.

It started some years back, when she fell and broke something and there was some uncertainty as to her continuing because she was unhappy being restricted because of the break.  It was also a wake-up call that my mother was/is mortal and will not be around for ever.  And Ouija borards notwhithstanding, I'd rather hold a conversation with her while I can hear her answers.

She's now 101 1/2 and in spite of Covid19, looks likely to make it to the end of the year.  At least, I hope so (knock on wood?)...  because I'm not ready to let go, although I don't get much of a say in the process.

One of her favorite jokes concerns the "Hereafter"....  because she says that she goes into a room, and wonders "what she is here - after?"

I have tapes of interviews with her from about 10 years ago, when she, her brother and her sister all got together and reminisced about life, the universe and growing up.  I still haven't transcribed it to permanent media; and I should.

Meanwhile, I will call her every evening about 7 pm or so, and talk for a while.

It is at least enough.