Thursday, November 24, 2011

Thanksgiving




Thanksgiving Day traditions
perfectly unfold
with ol' Tom turkey
slowly cooking; Sweet potatoes,
mashed potatoes,  a green
bean casserole, cranberries
and creamed corn
Friend and family
gather at table
made festive with
familiar heirlooms from
two loving grandma's;
Organdie  dishes, and
gold plated flatware
We join  hands,
and lift our hearts to
 pray a prayer of
thanks for the gift
of each other, God's abiding grace,
and the bounty we share
For loved ones far away,
and those no longer
here -  All  sweetly remembered
as stories are told
Past memories held
dear, new memories  are born



Saturday, November 19, 2011

Early Winter



The calendar says
Autumn; Thanksgiving Day
not yet here, but winter
has come, snow has
arrived, quietly falling
from a colorless
sky, covering north
Idaho with a cold,
frosty white - looking
like  Currier and Ives
at Christmas time.
The woods are
silent, no  sound
of bird, or critter
to be heard
Deer seek shelter
under heavily flocked
trees , trying to
keep warm  from
an afternoon temperature
of twenty-three degrees



Thursday, November 17, 2011

Winter Approaching




Signs of winter weather
travelling this way, across
field and mountain
and farm and town are
seen in  low hanging clouds, in
a sky of charcoal gray;
Of cold wind whipping
through northern pine trees,
twisting limbs  like the
sway of a hula dancer,  and migrating
birds flying south.  Maple's
dropping their colorful leaves,
covering the ground
like a red and yellow
blanket; Morning  frost on the
doorstep, and late afternoon
like the dark of night


Sunday, November 13, 2011

A Sorrow Shared (Mike and Walt)




When Susan called my cell so early in the morning I knew something was wrong. I had anticipated she was calling to tell me her 96 year old mother, whose health has been declining in recent months had passed away. I wasn't prepared to hear it was her oldest brother, Mike.  My eyes welled with tears, I wanted to hug  my life long friend, to be with her,  and share her sorrow.

While I  listened   to  Susan  telling    me the sad  details of   Mike's death, that he  suffered a fatal heart attack ,  my mind flipped back  eighteen months earlier  when  I was the one making the phone call,  to tell Susan my  brother,  my Walt had died.   Like Mike, from a  massive heart attack.

Throughout our conversation,  I couldn't seem to escape a single  image  locked in  memory's  view  -  a picture from 1963,  an 8 x10 photo.  Camp Little Green Valley. Southeast YMCA.   Susan's  brother, Mike,   a camp counselor is  standing in the back row -  my  brother, Walt,  sitting in the front row.

I thought of those years so long ago,  Mike  working   at his dad's hamburger stand across the street from our apartment on Heliotrope, Walt  still riding his bike, and playing cowboy and Indians with neighborhood kids. Susan and I not yet in high school,   but walking home from   school together . Meeting each afternoon at the corner  of the  different grade schools we attended - Susan's  Zion Lutheran , and my  St. Rose of  Lima.  I thought about how our lives   intersected, as did the lives of our brothers - if only one summer in 1963.

Friday, November 11, 2011

Veteran's Day 2011 - Reflections

This past Sunday at St. Thomas the Apostle Catholic church,   in preparation  and remembrance  of  Veteran's Day our pastor , Father Bill invited all  veterans sitting in the congregation  to come forward for a special blessing,  and recognition for their service to our country.  My husband, Gary and our friend,  Marty Mednis were  among many who stepped forth. Without saying a word, seeing  the age of each told the  generation they represented.  While none  are no longer here from World War I, there were a few from World War II, several from Vietnam , and  many who fought in Iraq. As Father Bill  presented each with an American flag pin with a cross overlay, the congregation gave them a standing ovation.   I felt proud of my husband for the time he served during the Vietnam conflict, and proud of all.  Each one a  piece of the fabric that makes our land great. 


In Bell, the southern California city I grew up in, the official name of the park was Veteran's Park, but us kids mostly called it Bell Park. It was a great place for Dodge ball, tether ball, softball, swings and slides.  I don't know how old I was when I first understood our playground was named in honor of the military men and women who served our country ; American veterans of all wars - men like my grandfather, Cecil Cooney, great uncle Andrew Norton, uncles Lloyd Cooney and Bob Breedlove,  and how significant   that was for me, and other children playing so innocently, and free.  Men who sacrificed and believed in something bigger than themselves.    Veterans honored  then were soldiers from World War I, known as the Great War - the war to end all wars,  World War II, and the Korean War.    Vietnam , the Gulf War, Iraq, and Afghanistan were still far in the future.  Today November 11, 2011 -  veterans of those later  conflicts  are also  remembered for their sacrifice and duty to country, receiving gratitude from a grateful nation for their fortitude and service.

This morning I read about the history of Veteran's Day on the US Department of Veteran's Affairs website, http://www1.va.gov/opa/vetsday/vetdayhistory.asp  and was struck by this opening paragraph,

World War I – known at the time as “The Great War” - officially ended when the Treaty of Versailles was signed on June 28, 1919, in the Palace of Versailles outside the town of Versailles, France. However, fighting ceased seven months earlier when an armistice, or temporary cessation of hostilities, between the Allied nations and Germany went into effect on the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month. For that reason, November 11, 1918, is generally regarded as the end of “the war to end all wars.”

The war to end ALL wars. If only it could have been.

Yes, let us always remember Veteran's Day - the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month  when the 'war to end all wars' came to an end,  and as we look forward , let our  constant hope and prayer  be just that - the war to end all  war.  







Wednesday, November 9, 2011

AUTUMN MOON, IDAHO SKY



An Autumn  (full) moon
in a big Idaho sky
shines bright
like a flashlight
in the dark of night
over tree covered
land, and beauty
of the north -  Rockford Bay
and Lake Coeur d Alene

Sunday, November 6, 2011

The Artist






She hasn't painted
since her sister passed away
More than a sister, her
best friend, and painting
partner -  the one who
encouraged and inspired                                    
her art. Now, the canvas
is blank , the brushes tucked
away, and  the vivid
colors stored in a drawer.
Perhaps not today,
but someday soon, she'll paint again;
Something beautiful in
memory of her beloved Linda

Saturday, November 5, 2011

Natural Beauty, North Idaho & The Danger of Changing Landscape




Mountains and prairie,
river valley and farmland
so much of north Idaho still
rural, allowing for the beauty
of natural land
Evergreen trees, pine trees
white birch, and white
tail deer. Wild  huckleberries
and grizzly bears; Moose and
elk roam the woods while
Osprey and Eagle fly
in a smog less sky

I wonder though, how
long will it  be
before  Joni Mitchell's
parking lot
takes victory here;
Not the loggers who
earn their living by
timber dollars, but
developers and local
politicians  making  way
for high rise buildings
and shopping centers                                          






Wednesday, November 2, 2011

WOODSY WALK IN AUTUMN





As I  walk through the woods
cool, crisp air brushes against my face
I wear a  fleece hat to keep
my ears warm, and  a bright
yellow jacket
I notice the color of the leaves
have changed from summer
green to autumn gold, and
take  in the smells of nature
that smell so good
this time of year
I reach the rim and
look out at the lake; silent
and calm.
Overhead, the  blue
of the sky isn't filtered
with smog or haze, but clear
and beautiful. It seems
close enough to reach
up and touch
Nearby, a  Red Shafted Flicker
rapidly raps  the trunk
of a tree with his pointy
yellow beak , and I'm
reminded it's time
for home