The End

I Don't Remember

I Don't Remember...

by Ash L Bennett

I don't remember, any more,
The exact shape of your hands
As I held them in mine,
Caressed them,
Memorized the length of your fingers,
The depth of your calluses.

I don't remember, any more,
Exactly your height, how much
Taller than me
You were, where
My head rested on your chest
When you held me tightly close.

I don't remember, any more,
Your scent, when we lay together
Creating our own
Magic rhythm,
Matching our heartbeats as we
Touched the sky, together.

I don't remember, any more,
The sound of your voice, calling
My name as though
It were a song
Within itself, a precious treasure
You valued with all your being.

And I don't remember, any more,
The color of your eyes, the shape
Of your lips,
Only...
How your eyes crinkled at the corners
And your laugh, as you told me,

"I love you."

Thanksgiving Day Prayer

Thanksgiving Day Prayer
by Walter Rauschenbusch (1861–1918)

For the wide sky and the blessed sun,
For the salt sea and the running water,
For the everlasting hills
And the never-resting winds,
For trees and the common grass underfoot.
We thank you for our senses
By which we hear the songs of birds,
And see the splendor of the summer fields,
And taste of the autumn fruits,
And rejoice in the feel of the snow,
And smell the breath of the spring.
Grant us a heart wide open to all this beauty;
And save our souls from being so blind
That we pass unseeing
When even the common thornbush
Is aflame with your glory,
O God our creator,
Who lives and reigns for ever and ever.

It's All Temporary

The Parrot

When Uncle Charley died of old age, Bill was bequeathed his uncle's prized Amazon parrot. This parrot was fully grown -- with a bad attitude and a worse vocabulary.  Every other word was an expletive.  Those that weren't expletives were, to say the very least, extremely rude.

Bill tried hard to change the bird's attitude and was constantly saying polite words, playing soft music, anything he could think of to try and set a good example.

Nothing worked.  Exasperated, he yelled at the bird.  But the bird only got louder.  Then he shook the parrot. But the bird just got more angry and more rude.

Finally, in a moment of desperation, Bill put the parrot in the freezer.  For a few moments he heard the bird squawking, kicking, and screaming.

     

Then, suddenly, all was quiet.  Bill was frightened that he might have hurt his dead uncle's prized parrot and quickly opened the freezer door.  The parrot calmly stepped out onto Bill's extended arm and said:  "I am truly sorry that I might have offended you with my language and action and I humbly ask your forgiveness.  I will now, from this day forth, endeavor to correct my behavior so that such an ill-perceived outburst never again occurs."

Bill was completely astonished at the bird's change in attitude and was about to ask what caused such a dramatic change when the parrot continued, "May I ask what the chicken did?"

Swimming Update

Good news on my swimming progress - I am enjoying it beyond my wildest expectations. Part of the pleasure is due to three purchases: goggles, fins, and a bathing cap.  For the first time in my life I am able to do an honest to goodness free style, probably due to the fact that the goggles and cap prevent  water from invading my ears and eyes. I stopped counting laps because I can never remember what lap I am on. I swim and as I swim, I either recite my Alexander Technique mantra (my back is lengthening and widening, my back is lengthening and widening, my arms are lengthening, my legs are lengthening) or I write scripts for my puppets in my head. 

The picture was taken by one of the girls at the Y. I emailed it to my two sons which caused a flurry of emails.  They were both horrified at my bathing suit: From Josh: Great picture! Now you just need a new suit, mom. Is that a built in skirt around the waist?? Reply from Alex:  I think she sewed it on after she bought it. Or maybe it's velcro. She keeps the skirt on when she trains and then rips it off when she is on the blocks before a race. Needless to say, I have been shamed into ordering a skirtless bathing suit on line.  It is purple.  I will look like a plum paddling up and down the lanes as my back lengthens and widens.

Tara and Bella

Reflections from a Pet Sitter: Hoover

"No doggie does it like you, the way that you do, Hoover, no doggie does it like you." I sing to Hoover, a 13 year old Basset Hound, as I tug him up the hill.  He is well named, as he looks exactly like that trusty vacuum, and no doggie does anything quite like Hoover.  Those mournful eyes look at me sadly as we plod along, his floppy ears dusting the gutter, always cleaning something.

Today I noticed a subtle lilt to his step. I use the term sparingly, as this little bounce would not be discernible to all but the most observant eye.  I asked him if he was in a good mood and he said yes, his mother had left mood music on the radio for him and it made him happy.  I remarked that he could listen to the OJ trial* but he said no. Marcia Clark made him very nervous.  He prefers the music.  He went on to say that he knows what happened that night, anyway, Nicole's Akida told him, and he thinks we humans could save ourselves a lot of fuss if we would just ask the dog.

I walk Hoover twice a day when his parents go away, and he is so very grateful.  Hoover cannot be rushed.  Ever. You have heard of the four minute mile? With Hoover it is the four inch mile -- he is a very thorough sniffer.  In our hurry-up, get-it-done-yesterday world, he teaches me patience, and so I am as grateful to Hoover as he is to me.

We have a mutual admiration thing going.  When it is time for me to leave, the garage door swings closed, and he looks at me as if my departure is breaking his heart in two.  Never have I known any living creature to look so upset when I leave. We discussed this during one of our journeys up the hill, but he said not to let this upset me.  One of the songs on the radio talked about laughing on the outside, crying on the inside, but he said with him, it is just the opposite; he's crying on the outside but laughing on the inside.  We both got a good chuckle out of this as we continued our four minute inch.

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*Written during the OJ trial!