Tag Archives: love

TAMP: Abbie

Abbie is a dynamic human. I truly admire how she rolls with whatever comes her way.

She walks into a room in a hurricane of glittery animation

Energy pumping through her space

like air so rich it almost feels obscene

Pigpen from the Peanuts,

surrounded by dust,

has nothing on the confetti of joy

that explodes around her with distracted purpose

Sticky notes are posted everywhere

so she doesn’t forget, but

sometimes she does

When that happens,

she merely pauses before redirecting

her vision, her drive, her day

She is a tempest of radiant inspiration

enraptured in her creative personality

TAMP: Sharon “Shern” Crane

Me reprising the Christmas Kiss on Miss Shern’s cheek

A long, long time ago, I watched colored lights pass my studio window. Every night, they paraded across the parking lot of the apartment complex I lived in with my family. I decided I wanted to meet this alien.

A few evenings later, I had the great fortune to meet Miss Shern. (Her accent is very Tennessee which causes her to say my name like MAY-ore.) She and I got to talking about life, the universe, and everything becoming fast friends. She wore the battery operated Christmas lights so that people could see her as she walked her dog, Candy. Candy was a fat beagle who was well loved; sweet as could be.

As time passed, Miss Shern and I would commonly seek out each other’s company. She would come solve the problems of the world at my kitchen table with a good pot of coffee and sometimes some sweets.

A different friend of mine gifted me a feathery charm to hang over my doorway to keep evil spirits out.

After spending several hours with Miss Shern, she was heading out my door when the feather adornment caught her eye.

“What’s that for?” She asked.

“It’s to keep assholes out.” I replied without missing a beat.

“Does it work?” She prodded.

I looked her dead in the eye, “Apparently not.”

We laughed about that harder than we should have. We still tell that story.

She is the kind of person you could ask anything of, talk about anything with, and she has a clunky sort of grace that is truly sincere. She gives selflessly to various causes having served 30 years with the Red Cross (I think it’s more, but I’m pretty sure that’s the number), decades at The Holiday Bureau which supplements families with holiday decorations, gifts, and other such things. She raises money for gifting snacks and drinks for the Police, Fire, and EMS. She volunteers at warming centers in the winter time. She serves on the Oak Ridge Housing Authority Board.

She is quick to laugh. She explores the world with the wonder of a child and the wisdom of living. She’s an avid reader. She’s taken up caving and hiking. She goes to classes at The Oak Ridge Senior Center to expand her vast knowledge. She is impressive as a human.

I have a lot of favorite people, typically it’s for one reason or another, but she…she’s the whole enchilada. I adore her, her heart, her passions, her compassion, her emotional bumpy-bits, and her laugh. This world is a better place with her in it.

Healing Hugs

I hugged shame

I loved disgrace

I encouraged peace

To the weeping face

I heard confession

I felt mercy

I held his hand

Told him he’s worthy

Removed the prison

Of spoken word

Showed him value

By actions served

He sobbed for relief

From a god he doubted

Regret his badge

His sight; sin clouded

Visible pain

ached his soul

But his words dictated

Desperate control

Will he surrender?

Forgive his heart?

Remember his humanity,

That is tearing him apart?

I can’t fix him

Or make things better,

Just let him feel loved

Releasing the debtor

For Us All

When I say I pray,

I pray for us.

I take my knowing of your Spirit as it has met mine

Reminded that we are of one heart; one people

Faith turned inside out as a beacon of compassion;

kindness gifted a mortal coil

Our lives are bountiful with profound joy and excruciating sorrow

Both, in their own way, unspoiled sweetness like honey

Both archaic and newly birthed

My tears are as salty as yours,

my blood as red

Our grief shatters our hearts wide open

but so does the ecstasy of awareness

of abiding love; ever expanding

A welcomed blessing imprisoned in prosaic words

An offering of obedient relationship with one another;

with the interactive chaos of the world

Let us be a harbor for one another

in the turbulent, roiling depths of uncertainty

So when I say I pray,

I truly pray for us.

Who knew?

I have a client whom I’ve been with for over 8 months. I companion care he and his wife three times a week. He is extroverted, claims he hates people while socializing, laughs with his entire body, and is charmingly impish. She is quiet, speaks when spoken to, defers to her husband, but is sweet and expressive when she feels it.

I was doing a normal Thursday visit. He was in rare form. He declared himself indomitable then laughed when myself and his other visitor cheered his word choice. It was a grand celebration of friendship and excellent conversation.

The following morning I received a text that said things had taken a turn for the worse and he was in dire straits. Could I go visit? Absolutely.

Dire straits is an understatement. Although no fever, he was having a health crisis not experienced before. The secondary visitor of Thursday was informed of the situation and they also arrived. It was crushing to know that what we experienced the day before had done a 180. His stats were critically low, but being on hospice, comfort was key.

We prayed.

Okay, I confess, I thought prayer, like funerals, were for the comfort of the person attending to their love. Positive vibes and all that. I prayed to the Universe that peace would prevail, that the highest good would be met, and that his children would arrive in time to attend the final hours. He was put on several prayer chains, of which, I’ve also been skeptical.

For four days he knocked on death’s door. He wasn’t eating or drinking. He couldn’t swallow. He was doing a version of Cheyne-Stokes breathing (It’s kind of like a fish out of water. Because they can’t swallow, the mucus that normally goes down remains in the throat causing a “rattling” sound) He knocked hard, but…nobody was home?

Tuesday he was awake and aware of visitors; even speaking.

By Thursday he was sitting up in his chair, conversing, demanding, agitated that he couldn’t exercise “to stay fit.” He ate more than he had all week. He drank hot tea. He was cranky, but alert and responding to input.

Okay, so let me explain why this struck me as unusual. I honestly believed, as did the nursing staff, that he was going to die. His body showed all the signs of that coming up quickly. The children (my age and better), were told to prepare. But, what changed?

I’m sure there is a scientific reason for his sudden turn-around. I’ve seen and experienced people doing a “rally” (That’s when the dying person suddenly has a burst of energy that can make them seem competely “normal” again. They may want to eat their favorite foods, or drink, or talk with their loved ones. It happens surprisingly often.) Four days of awareness is unusual.

This particular set of events has really forced me to confront my views on prayer, on my own experience, and honestly, I feel like a bit of imposter. However, I’ll take the guidance of my fellow guest and roll with the grace that has been granted with this incredible occurance. I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy to be wrong, yet I want so badly to understand.

The next few days, other family members will be attending to him in conjunction with his children.

I will continue to pray. I am baffled, feel awkward in my Unitarian Universalist faith, curious as all get out, and willing to laugh at myself for thinking I knew enough. Do we ever?

Precious Creatures

Women are precious creatures.

Without her face at dinner, I have no sustenance.

I become entwined in melancholy.

To not hear her voice,

even when she’s scolding me,

leaves a void in my spirit so deep,

it’s nearly unbearable.

The room becomes devoid of breathable air.

To not see her face first thing in the morning

pilfers the illumination from my day.

She is my warming touch

that eases the cold shoulder of old age.

At dusk, my heart is full of hope

until I remember

that I’ll miss her smile when I close my eyes.

Despite reassurance that we’ll be together again, soon

it couldn’t be soon enough.

I long for the day when she can come home to me

and we can be together again.

Dumped

Some fool thought it would be a good idea to desert a rooster and a hen near a heavily traveled road in a shopping district by my house. I’ve been unsuccessful in capturing them so far, but it’s getting dark and I have corn.

My fashion first mindset is full on right now.

My shirt has 3 chickens on it and reads
“I ❤️ dinosaurs “
This is the dude I’m chasing

Whatever the Face

You don’t need permission to be angry with God
You’re not less of a human or any more flawed
It’s okay to yell, to scream, and to shake
To groan under your burden while your heart aches
To feel like you’re in it, totally alone
The weariness digging down deep in your bones
You don’t need permission to question your faith
To want something different than the cards that have played
You’re perfectly normal to deny what is true
The mistakes that were made that you can’t undo
Rejecting condolences because then “IT” is real
Bargaining, begging, willing to make deals
Wherever your God is, whatever the face
Know that you’re held in comfort and grace
The shoulders you cry on, the prayers that are offered
Are all given up to the ultimate Author