Oh please, enlighten me

So I should consider it okay

if it’s my Mom, age 88,

blind from strokes, confined to a care facility

and, wait for it,

giddy with the joy of new found love.

Or my wife, a cancer survivor,

who looks too young to be in any high-risk population.

Or our son who was born premature and

has been fighting the odds each new day.

Or one of my grandkids, (Who would dare to

tell me that any of my grandkids are merely fodder

so we can save our precious economy?)

Oh, and add to the list life-long friends,

co-workers, neighbors and acquaintances.

And you want me to believe

their death is acceptable because:

as Americans our rights are sacred and demand risks,

or they probably have some

weakening condition and would soon die,

or it is just their time,

or (please spare me)

god called them home

(or to a better place,

or fill in the vapid cliché of your choice).

That’s all I have.

But I’m sure you have more.

So, please enlighten me as to  

why I should gratefully fight for and

enjoy my rights and privileges

even at the cost of the life

of one of these, so dear to me?

We’re trying (the Corona Chronicles)

“I… can’t… take… this… shit… any… more!”

“Come on Kris, language. Your Father and I are trying to make the best of these tough times. It’s hard on everybody.”

“I don’t care. I’m outa here. You don’t understand. I need some friends.”

“You aren’t going anywhere. Keys and phone, NOW!”

“But…”

“Taking away friends and games seems the only way to get you to listen.”

“Come on!”

“This isn’t a conversation. Take that laptop, go to your room and get your school work done.”

“OK.” …Does she really have no clue what I’m going to be doing all morning?

Fiction 101: The goal is to tell a story in 101 words or less.

Too much pain (the Corona Chronicles)

I always believed in America, God and country. Had to protect our rights.

Trusted my President. He knew what was best and would take care of us. He said, “Don’t fear.” “Liberate.” “Go back to work.” My soul raged. Crazy liberals weren’t shutting down our country.

Covid-19 infected my husband, fear, hospital, pain and so alone. Then our granddaughter. My secret favorite. Same result, only much more pain.

This is beyond what I can take. I refuse to be next. Thanks for your love and support. I pray my leaving this way doesn’t cause you too much pain.

Fiction 101: The goal is to tell a story in 101 words or less.

Work with me, people (the Corona Chronicles)

“Let’s go. Wait, where’s Stevie?”

“I told you teenagers sleep late.”

“We’ve got six people. This chart shows the day in 30-minute increments. Each person has a designated workspace and device. We’ll have two breaks to evaluate progress and lunch together at Noon.”

“Sheesh, recruiter said I couldn’t join the Army without a diploma.”

“Why does Acie get the kitchen table and Marq the new IPad?”

“None of my friends have to work more than two hours a day. This sucks.”

“Work with me, people. This is the greatest opportunity for family connection we’ve ever had.”

Fiction 101: The goal is to write a story in 101 words or less.

COVID-19 hits home(s) - (the Corona Chronicles)

This collection of "Fiction 101" short stories (101 words or less) are told from the perspective of six different kids reflecting on life in the daily reality of the Coronavirus.

Taylor

Mom takes care of old folks and Dad works at a farm. I watch the little ones.

It’s tough doing schoolwork when my brother and sister are crying, fighting or hungry. I try to keep up but sometimes the Wi-Fi goes out. Teachers are nice and keep checking in, but I sure miss my friends.

I wish we could get food from school, but my parents are always working. I have to fix dinner for everyone every day. Why can't Grandma be with us?

Sometimes, I wonder if I’ll make it until school to starts again.

Sophie

During the virus thing we’re staying at Dad's. Mom works at the hospital, so she’s really busy. He lets us sleep late. We eat breakfast and check in with school, do some work, play video games and chat with friends. Dad focuses on his stuff until we get noisy.

At lunchtime Dad asks questions to check how we are doing. If we can make him think we’re caught up we get free time. There’s not much to do, so we get bored. I sure miss my friends.

                           

Sometimes, I wonder if I’ll make it until school to starts again.

Ash

Mom’s usually working on her computer or texting with friends. Dad keeps yelling on the phone, reminding people he’s the boss. At least when they are high they leave us alone. We’re lucky when we get take-out because neither of them cooks worth shit.

I try doing schoolwork. When I need help from Mom she’s busy with the baby. And Dad’s he tells me it’s my responsibility. Teachers are nice and keep checking in, but I sure miss my friends.

Sometimes, I wonder if I’ll make it until school to starts again.

Joseph

Dad calls, “Up and ready.” for breakfast by 7. At 7:30 Mom starts with “Write about three things you learned yesterday.” Next Dad breaks from his work for Math and Science. Mom does PE before lunch. Then we get 30 minutes on our own, no screens. Next back to Mom for History. An old movie if we’re lucky.

We do afternoon chores until dinner. Finally 30 minutes of screen time, hopefully connecting with friends. The day ends with reading time and bed by 9:30.

Sometimes, I wonder if I’ll make it until school to starts again.

Tony

Dad’s trying to teach his third graders while helping me do my Middle School stuff. He gets edgy quick sometimes. Mom’s gone a lot for her job at the clinic.

When Mom’s home she gets ticked at Dad because he gets frustrated with me. She says things like, “You’re a teacher.” or, “You need to be more patient.” Which kinda makes him more frustrated.

By the afternoon I’m glad we’re done with school. I sure miss my friends.

                           

Sometimes, I wonder if I’ll make it until school to starts again.

Jade

At Mom’s house she bitches about Dad leaving us. At Dad’s we hear about the “Assholes that took my job.” It’s best when he’s drunk and not hitting us. We’re lucky when they remember to get food on school pick-up days.

I try doing schoolwork each day. When I need help from Mom she’s on her phone. At Dad’s he’s usually in his room with his new girlfriend. Teachers are nice and keep checking in, but I sure miss my friends.

Sometimes, I wonder if I’ll make it until school to starts again.

August Family Outing

It’s the Oregon Coast, the water is freezing. Biting wind stings my freckled skin, which will be neglected and burn, guaranteeing pain for days.

Dad starts playfully leapfrogging waves and digging in the sand. He’ll soon progress to drinking and we’ll soon progress to ignoring him. Mom will sit, her eyes, and life, hidden behind over-sized sunglasses.

We’ll hunt shells, chase the tide and make driftwood forts. Eventually devouring whatever we can find for lunch then rushing back to fun and freedom.

For us, this is as close to family and summer as we can hope for.

Fiction 101 - the goal is to tell a story in 101 words or less

The extended family

When my oldest niece was about five years old, she cried to her mom, “How come I couldn’t be adopted like the other kids?” At that time, there were six cousins on that side of our family; four of them had joined the family through adoption. We laughed at the story, but also found a sense of gratification in seeing our families grow in unusual ways.

It’s been nearly twenty-five years since my niece cried to her mom. Our two adopted sons are grown with families of their own. We now have a grandson who has come into our family through adoption. My wife and a sister-in-law both work for Bethany Christian Services Northwest, an adoption agency. Adoption and foster care has shaped our extended family history in a variety of ways.

The need is always before us. Every child deserves, needs and longs for a stable home and family. It is also critical for the health of the greater community that we care for those who cannot care for themselves. Open adoptions and cultural shifts have changed the face of adoption and foster care greatly in the past twenty-five years, but the reality is that every child is an important child and many are in need of a home.

Adoption is not always easy, nor is the result always perfect. As with any family situation, it involves a messy mixture of people and lives. But there are many stories of life directions changed and families made new through this process.

Have you considered extending your family through adoption or foster care? There are numerous ways to get involved. If you have considered extending your family through one of these methods, here are some of the steps that can help prepare you for the commitment.

1. First, educate yourself. Learn about adoption and foster care processes in your state. In doing so, you will discover the reality of life for the children who spend their youth in systems that are caring, but overloaded. The Child Welfare Information Gateway of the Administration for Children and Families provides up to date statics related to the current needs related to adoption and foster care.

2.  Consider helping a specific child or children. Evaluate your situation and see how to best respond. Can you build a family in a way you had not previously considered? Are you able to help kids in transition through foster care? There are many agencies available to help you learn about foster care and, when ready, begin the process. Bethany Christian Services is one of the largest organizations providing services for both foster care and adoption with branch offices in numerous locations throughout the United States. You can also refer to Child Welfare Information Gateway and the Administration for Children and Families to learn more about national resources.

3.  Consider an alternative. If you are not in a position to bring children into your home, consider sponsoring a child through a reputable relief agency. Compassion International and World Vision are two international organizations with years of experience in caring for needy children around the world.

4.  Act locally. Join with a child service agency in your city as a volunteer or supporter.  Big Brothers Big Sisters has been providing positive role models for youth since 1904. Volunteering as a “Big” or donating to support programs can help make a difference in the lives of numerous children in need. Many communities have locally-based programs that provide friendship/mentoring opportunities for volunteers to work one-on-one with kids as well.

5.  Get involved. Become informed about what’s going on at the government level and communicate with officials on behalf of children. This might involve contacting your state representatives, your community government, or your area school board to see what is being done with local resources and funds to protect at-risk and needy children.  

It is not important how each of us responds. The crucial thing is that we work together to help needy kids and families in the best way we can. The need is great, the opportunity is before us, and the future depends on it. Each November is designated as National Adoption Month, but there is no need to wait. You can make connections now to get involved and make a difference. Kids will thank you for generations to come.

Originally written in 2011 with Teresa Tanner (Carpine) and published in Catapult Magazine:  https://www.catapultmagazine.com/babies-everywhere/article/the-extended-family/

Seem So Different

There’s little buzz in our home

Advent begins, Christmas approaches

Decorations are an obligation

And only a few materialize

There’s talk of times past

And of kids now grown

Wondering how we did it all

Guilty whispers that can be ignored

How can an empty nest

Seem so busy?

How can a season

Seem so different?

August Evening

it's national poetry day so i'm re-posting one of my favorites. 

August Evening

sitting next to Connie
old, hard, wooden stadium benches
red paint, chipped, gouged and peeling
she puts on her sweater
I put on my sweatshirt

band plays hits of some artist
we know little of and care less for
overbearing 80's synthesizer
annoys me
she doesn't seem to notice or care

beyond the stage I watch carnival rides
loop, spin and race into the evening
colored lights intensify
sky drifts to darkness

near full moon glows above the trees
growing smaller as it brightens
yellow to orange to almost white

we come to the fair almost every year
it's something we do
we learned this spring she has cancer
treatment, fear, hope shadow our days

we talk a bit, decide to leave
i am ready, but hesitate
how many more times we will go to the fair

merit award 2007 Sue C. Boynton Poetry Contest

Thirty-five

9.14.74 Connie & I were married. I wrote this poem in honor of our 35th anniversary 9.14.09. I'm re-posting it today, our 37th.

Thirty-five

Sometimes I wasn’t sure
we’d make it
sometimes I wasn’t sure
I wanted to

When we started
I assumed we’d get here
expected us to stay together
but had no clue what was ahead
or what it would take

It’s not a milestone,
like fifty
but well past twenty-five
people notice twenty-five and fifty
appears thirty-five
Iis no big deal,
at least
according to public opinion,


Memories made
and more forgotten
seasons of devotion
and trials of anxiety
grace remembered
and offenses forgiven
and much forgiven again

It is the choice we made
the path we’ve followed
and I would choose it again
I think I do
I hope we do
everyday

a poem for my dad

My dad died on 8.1.97. I wrote this poem a decade later. I'm re-posting it on this day of memories and missing.

August 1, 2007

ten years gone

a decade

August 1, 1997

we were over the mountains at a hotel

waiting to get the kids from camp

I was planning to visit the next week

got the call

you were gone

all the things you don’t know

within days, OK a few months

I had a new job and car

Michael moved out (was in foster care)

we would have talked and you would have cared

I can’t believe you don’t know

I imagine you in your family room

sitting in your chair

(it’s upstairs in our guest room now)

your television and sound system

(big screens and theater sound are the rage,

I know you’d love it)

you’d put in some action movie

tell me “listen to this”

sound would overwhelm the room

it would be impressive

I want to hear you rant about the government

and the unending stupidity of people

I want to play Upwords

just the two of us

you keeping score

for little reason

because you would win

again

Sadie

Mr. Parker gave us Sadie. She was brown-red with white flecks. Her tail and tongue flapped when she ran. She followed me to school and slept with me every night.

One afternoon, Billy, the biggest kid around, threw a punch at me. Sadie lunged, pressing her teeth on his neck as a deep growl escaped her throat. Billy squirmed loose and took off. I ran home to Mom, bawling, gasping for words of explanation. Sadie was protecting me.

Mom was sitting on my bed, not Sadie, in the morning. “I’m sorry. Dad took her to the pound. She won’t be back.”

Yet still...

Another day of Pagan rituals blended
With evangelical fervor
We squint through the twilight
Morning, standing damp-footed
In dewy, cemetery grass
For yet another sunrise service

I bow my all to Easter


Relatives and once-a-year attenders
Drawn by the scorn of a long
Gone grandma or some family curse,
Now days called expectations,
Arrive at church

I bow my all to Easter


Brunch in the basement
Between services for
Egg and bread casserole
Hastily made the night before
With fruit and dry ham, barely warm

I bow my all to Easter


Overflowing sanctuary
New bright colored dresses
And enough ladies hats to force
Even the most polite teenage boys
To smirk and jab their friends

I bow my all to Easter


Similar sermon with
A “zippy” new title, louder
Does not make it different
Or better, there is one
Easter story, get over it

I bow my all to Easter


“He is risen.” “He is risen indeed!”
Some shout, others mumble
The silent few, hope not to be noticed
Their obligation is clear
Attendance “yes,” participation “no”

I bow my all to Easter


Families, friends gather for dinner
Kids search for quickly hidden eggs
A few may not be found ‘til July 4
Too much food and obvious table talk
Candy, pictures and goodbyes

I bow my all to Easter


Cars chase dusk, disappear around the corner
A messy house, colored egg shells,
Shiny foil wrappers, flimsy colored plastic grass
Dishes to wash, leftovers to organize,
Should have sent more with the others

Yet still, I bow my all to Easter


original post: April 2009

For God and Country

The setting
On Wednesdays we gather
Early, before another day’s work
Some for more than fifteen years
Brothers in faith and life
We talk and sometimes listen
Questions, news, a book or two
Fears are whispered on occasion
Prayers offered

The first question
“Whose dad was in the military?”
Nods and affirmations from all
Stories soon follow
Of the “Big One” and Korea
And times in between

Next question
Who of us served?
We know the answer
Only Bill
His stint as an officer
Holding the Navy together
And keeping the
World safe for democracy

Last question
“How many of our kids
Have been in?”
Although not unexpected
The silence holds us for a moment
Until someone changes the subject

I’m Ready

I promised Mom if she grounded me one more time that I was leaving. She never believed me. You gotta understand…a fourth grader can only take so much.

And don’t think I’m stupid. I’ve been preparing. I started saving my allowance and hiding granola bars. Thinking of what to take, where to go. I’m planning.

Parents are meeting with the teacher tonight, getting my grades. I know what’s coming. Two weeks of no TV, no games, no friends after school. Study time.

Can’t do it. Tomorrow, after school, when she sends me to my room, it’s time for action. I’m ready.

To Be a Family

In our mid-twenties,
We had been married a few years
What comes next for fully-fledged adults?
We looked into adoption
(There’s much more to the story here
but we’re moving on)
Maybe it’d be more accurate to say,
Adoption found us

An overwhelming world before us
Of social workers and lawyers,
Phone calls and “visits,”
Paperwork and classes,
Anticipation and confusion,
Prayers and tears,
Choices and acceptance,
Waiting and wondering

Time passed until,
In a stretch of ten months,
We adopted two sons
Spring brought Kyle,
Who would later become
the younger brother of Michael,
the older son who joined our family
the next winter

Our boys are now men
With children of their own
When we reflect over thirty years,
We see a thread of
Grace in the fog
That guarded and guided us
To become a united tribe
And to be a family


this poem is posted as part of the High Calling focus on adoption & foster care this week. check out: http://www.thehighcalling.org/culture/random-acts-poetry-mistaken-identity

Fish in a barrel

Lawyers are easy targets
For ridicule and jokes
(I know, I’ve told them,
And basked in the laughter)

Until you know one
Like my brother-in-law, Bob
The family calls him “a good one.”
A rare commodity to some
And words of reluctant
Acceptance for others
He does not help matters by
Doing that criminal defense stuff
When I read a story or watch the news
Seeing the carnage of another
Mad man (or should I say person)
Then Bob tells me the story
And I’m conflicted, wondering
What is truth and justice?
When humans play god.

recession redux

this recession’s an enigma
as I sit in a place
that survives,
wait, it thrives
selling little more than
coffee at four or five
bucks a pop

a constant buzz
from the tables
a crowd at the counter
while cars wait
at the window
filled with those
too harried to step inside

I remember history book pictures
and family stories
my great-aunt “Arkie”
wiping her plate clean
reminding me to not waste
“we never know
what will happen next.”

August Evening

sitting next to Connie
old, hard, wooden stadium benches
red paint, chipped, gouged and peeling
she puts on her sweater
I put on my sweatshirt

band plays hits of some artist
we know little of and care less for
overbearing 80's synthesizer
annoys me
she doesn't seem to notice or care

beyond the stage I watch carnival rides
loop, spin and race into the evening
colored lights intensify
sky drifts to darkness

near full moon glows above the trees
growing smaller as it brightens
yellow to orange to almost white

we come to the fair almost every year
it's something we do
we learned this spring she has cancer
treatment, fear, hope shadow our days

we talk a bit, decide to leave
i am ready, but hesitate
how many more times we will go to the fair

merit award 2007 Sue C. Boynton Poetry Contest

It’s Not Easy Being Four, for Nevaeh (& her Grandma)

It’s not easy being four
When you go to grandma’s
With all those big people
Talking and laughing

It’s not easy being four
When your brother and cousin
Yell “Go away!”
Because you’re too little

It’s not easy being four
When you aren’t the only girl
Or the littlest one
Since your baby cousin was born

It’s not easy being four
When grandpa tells you to
“Pay attention” and “Slow down”
And “Listen” again

It’s not easy being four
When you try to keep up
But trip again, or knock something over
Because you’re still growing into yourself

It’s not easy being four
When you have something to say
But everyone is busy
And no one listens

It’s not easy being four
But when you sit on the couch
And grandma reads you a story
It’s kinda nice