Her Greatness

I've absolutely been soaking in as much vitamin D and tree oil during my morning treks with the dog. The best part? No one else is on the trail. It's completely quiet, and I'm alone. 

the woods i visit this morning now bloom
muddy green buds, sky shines Her most radiant
and wondrous blue, tulip tree has yet
to go ahead and blosoom her palest yellow.
all this while we continue 
to stay vigilant
masking to protect ourselves and others
while last breaths still taken, while grievers
ind reason to push through

i stand still and breathe
extra deep for those who struggle 
to breathe
i pray and wonder --
are our hearts expansive enough 
to appreciate Life's beauty and live 
with this ongoing grief
i close my eyes
upon opening them
there she is in all of her majesty
blue heron
She reminds me -- 
our world, WE, continue 
to evolve and progress
stay spiritually woke and aware


That 70s feel

Know those family friends that no matter how long it's been since we've seen each other, the love is still there? The memories of summertime at Cove Beach, writing and acting out plays for the family Christmas party, and birthday barbecues followed by singalongs, mahjong and poker into the wee hours of the morning.

Another family friend has joined the No-Dad-Club. Cancer sucks. Waiting as someone dies with dignity in hospice care at home . . . sucks. The emotional exhaustion and numbness . . . sucks. 

On top of that, this now not-so-new way of mourning through numerous text messages and a Zoom screen to show support for loved ones seems less personal and is not intuitive at all, yet much appreciated, any means of communicating love during a family death in an ongoing pandemic is a good thing.

This afternoon, I attended the celebration of Life of a dear family friend, Tito Lito. My favorite memory of him is as a shaggy banged, long-haired, tall & skinny Tito with wire-rimmed eyeglasses in denim bell bottoms, kinda like a Filipino John Lennon? The Agoncillo Family is a deeply faithful and generous family, always have been. They were present as we waited for my Dad to die, almost 14 years ago. I've remained in close contact with Aileen, their older daughter, as much as texting and voicemail allows between NoVA and Florida. Her tribute to her father at today's service was full of confident love and faith. Having been in touch with her frequently during Tito Lito's hospice care at home, I've been recalling my own journey with my Dad's life with cancer and all the feels around waiting for him to die. There are no words for that period of waiting, knowing that time is precious, that life here on is meant to enjoy the simple things. 

This morning, my trek through the woods included listening intently to the warbling of tree frogs, always a reminder that spring warmth has arrived. New life. And for those Filipino dads, whose sage spirits accompany us on these mindful walks, they joke in joyful banter in the sunlight and beyond with Holly Cole Trio's 1972 rendition of "I can see clearly now . . . " in the background.