Saturday, July 26, 2008


Grandson K is here from Sweden. He is a very nice kid. He is extremely polite, I can't believe how polite he is. He has grown. We see him once a year . He speaks Swedish fluently and does well in school even so he has Aspberger Autism. A pleasure to see him. His dad is delighted.
A change from the tragedies of the last 2 months. Some sunshine.

Read this in WOWOW by Kay Rayan s me nuts. Here’s one of her poems that she wrote about her mother:


A life should leave
deep tracks:
ruts where she
went out and back
to get the mail
or move the hose
around the yard;
where she used to
stand before the sink,
a worn-out place;
beneath her hand,
the china knobs
rubbed down to
white pastilles;
the switch she
used to feel for
in the dark
almost erased.
Her things should
keep her marks.
The passage
of a life should show;
it should not abrade.
And when life stops,
a certain space
––however small––
should be left scarred
by the grand and
damaging parade.
Things shouldn’t
be so hard.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I love the poem. It's true, there should be something left, something you can see. Most of the time, it's just the grave stone, which doesn't really show enough about the person.
Hence, my great love of obituaries, cemeteries and grave stones. It's not depressing to me for some reason.
I have a picture of both of my parents, taken about 10 years ago, on a sunny day, all smiles, standing behind their stone that they had ordered and place in the cemetery where they will be buried. I treasure it of course.