I don’t want you to think that by my posting humor, I’m not taking the pandemic seriously. I am. “Sometimes you have to laugh to keep from crying.” We are doing our share of both.
Today’s tears are brought to you by my husband’s friend. I’ll call him Luke. Yesterday when “Luke” saw his oncologist, he was told he only had three options for chemo, and they’d already tried two. Luke has decided he’s not going to try option 3. Off chemo, he’s beginning to feel better. He’s regained his strength. He can taste his food again, and he is able to be out walking his dog. Vergil said he could hear the wind blowing during the phone call. Luke, man of courage. He’s in charge. We continue to pray for his healing. I'm glad for this dog-walking day.
There are other tears, and we don’t even ask each other anymore what's wrong. You know. Life and death, pain and suffering, uncertainty, unfathomable sadness around the world. We dare not cover up our sniffles by saying “I think I’m getting a cold” because even a sniffle these days is cause for alarm. Some days are heavy for everyone. One of the safeguards early on, even before Vergil started chemo, was not to allow myself to go down the rabbit hole. If you’re not careful, those “what if’s” can trip you up.
I want to ask my friend jim bourey for permission to post his poem, “Men’s Tears,” or ask him to post his poem so I can share it. I want to thank him and Gitu Barua for the poems they published in the anthology Currents, 2015. When we went through Sam’s things, he had a copy of the book I had sent him. Reading your poems while sitting in the basement of the Airbnb in Minneapolis for our short trip to sort through Sam’s things and gather his ashes gave me comfort. Thank you, all contributors, so much. You never know what you write in 2014 might help someone five or six years down the road. And you never know how precious your words are when times are tough. I am grateful for open hearts willing to bleed on paper and for the written word. So now I’ll pull out my copy of Currents: Selected Poetry & Prose and remember a few days together in 2014 writing together, making new friends, learning so much. The book Maggie Rowe is writing, Liz Dolan’s photograph, with Russell Reece’s birthday greetings and other stories and other poems warms my heart.
Several people have been quoted as the source, but the quote goes something like this: “Writing is easy. All you have to do is open a vein.” We’ve all done our share of bleeding. While you don’t have anything to do, write a letter to your children, to your grandma, to your third grade teacher. Write that really really belated thank you note. Fill it with lots of laughter, hope, and love. Hey! You out there! Love you love you, sometimes with liquid love.
Photo by Lukas Rychvalsky from Pexels
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