Posted in Culture, Poetry, tagged family, friends, friendship, modern poetry, Poetry, Relationships on 09 Feb 2023| 2 Comments »
Do not presume that
because a heart is distant
it cannot can be read
Hearts can love or loathe,
be bound or apart, unmoved
by proximity
One can be as dear
unmet, half a world away,
as from down the street
Love can falter on
the doorstep, or reach across
the space between stars
Posted in Culture, tagged family, marriage, parenting, wedding on 08 Sep 2022| 1 Comment »
I do not have children.
This was by design.
I helped raise my brothers, eight years my junior. I experienced the trials of their infancy, the stress of their youthful mistakes, at least as much as an elder brother can.
I was not completely averse to the concept of procreation. Luckily, though, the woman I bonded with for life had opinions similar to mine, and so we have been happily childless for nigh on forty years.
And yet, there are children in our lives. The progeny of relations. The nieces and nephews of friends. The kids and grandkids of those in our closest circle.
This weekend I will have the honor of joining in marriage two young people who have been a part of our lives for several years. In June, I did the same for another couple from our innermost circles. In both cases, of both couples, I can’t help but feel a sense of pride when thinking of who these young people are.
But this is unjustified, undeserved, for I did nothing to raise these wonderful young people. I did nothing to mold their morals, their beliefs, their trueness to self, their admirable ethic, their compassion, their cleverness, their devotion to others, their loving spirits. That was the work of their parents, grandparents, aunties and uncles, elder cousins. That is their pride to take, not mine.
And yet, I feel pride.
Reflecting on this, it is probably more accurate to say that what I am feeling is a bit switched around. What feels like pride in them is actually pride in knowing them. I am proud that these remarkable young people want me in their lives. I am proud that they esteem me enough to want me to officiate their wedding. I am proud to know them, to call them friends, and to love them.
It is as close as I will ever come to feeling a father’s pride, but it is more than I ever expected, and I am grateful for it.
k
Posted in Culture, tagged family, home renovation, quiet living, Serenity on 14 Jul 2022| 2 Comments »
H*(Rα/Υ)=ςOr, in other words,
A Home, when multiplied by a Renovation raised to the power of the Affected Area and divided by the Unity factor, equals the perceived level of Serenity.
As I sit down here in my basement, above my head Thor is wielding Mjölnir in a fierce battle against giant angry wasps.
Or so it seems.
And yet, I am at peace.
We are having new windows installed, replacing our old 1960 single-pane aluminum frame rattletraps (emphasis on “rattle”) with updated double-glazed, gas-filled, smooth-sliding jobs. Three windows, two sliding glass doors, and the pièce de résistance, a bay window in the bedroom, overlooking the gardens. It is a huge job, by our standards, and the saws—reciprocating, circular, oscillating/elliptical—plus hammers from small to monstrous and compressors and sundry other tools of destruction/construction are creating an acoustical landscape that makes one think of banshees, murder hornets, and alien warfare.
It’s the kind of chaos that would stress me out, worry my wife, and send Portia (the cat) running for her panic room (my closet).
And yet, my wife is happily alternating between watching her reality TV and napping, Portia is comfortably settled up beside her, and I am taking a break from my workday to compose this blog post.
It’s our being together, an island of mutual strength, that allows us to weather the storm that rages above-stairs. Though planets are being torn asunder, down here the clock ticks, the walls remain firm, and though the lights flicker each time the massive chop saw kicks in, we are surrounded by warm and comforting light.
Unity, reaffirming familial bonds, is a powerful tool. When we separate, we are weak, but when we join together, that makes us mighty. In a crisis, unity is crucial, but our ability to join forces against the world is made even stronger when we practice it, be it in running errands, making decisions, sharing a meal, or planning an event. Sharing the little agonies improves our technique and readies us for when the big agonies come along.
To be sure, this isn’t a big one, but it isn’t a small one, either. Seeing us here, though, calm and unruffled, gives me confidence that when a big one does land on our doorstep, we’ll be better prepared.
k
Posted in Culture, tagged family, marriage, social distancing, universal life church, zoom on 31 Oct 2020| 2 Comments »
Today, I married my sister.
I’ve been to many weddings, a good few more than you, I’d wager. As a musician, I’ve been to scores, suffering through endless repetitions of Pachelbel’s Canon in D Major. As a groomsman, I’ve been to a handful, often a bit green in the gills, sweating vodka and swaying with my fellows in a shared hangover that hung around us like a fog. As a guest, there have been at least a dozen, some where I just sat and enjoyed the spectacle of hope, and others where I read remarks, made a toast, or simply helped with setup and tear-down. My sister and I were in a wedding before—my first—with me as groom and her as bridesmaid. (more…)
Posted in Culture, tagged family, friends, holiday, social on 03 Jan 2019| 3 Comments »
Welcome back, folks. I hope you missed me (or at least the words I put up here), and I hope as well that your year-end was festive and full of enjoyment.
My end-of-year breaks are usually a grab bag of have-tos and must-dos mixed with a large amount of cocooning at home, trying to avoid both. For the past five years or so, they’ve also been bittersweet, tinged with grief and drama over the losses of family and friends.
The end of 2018, however, was a radical departure from that.
I actually socialized.
On purpose.
Voluntarily.
Yeah, I know. That’s crazy talk!
Posted in Seattle, tagged canlis, family, family dynamics, friends, tradition on 05 Dec 2018| 7 Comments »
Life always has the capacity to surprise. Sometimes the surprise is delightful, and sometimes it most definitely is not. This past weekend, life did what it does best, but thankfully this surprise was of the delightful strain, as I’m pretty sick of the other type. (more…)
Posted in Culture, tagged family, father's day, pets, pets and seniors, seniors on 28 Jun 2018| Leave a Comment »
This past Father’s Day was not the type of day I’d envisioned, wanted, or was pleased with. Sick with a head cold, one hand wrapped up in gauze from a deep sheet-metal cut, facing major changes to my work and domestic patterns, I spent the day at the veterinarian’s office, saying goodbye to our seventeen-year old cat, Mouse, euthanizing her after she’d suffered acute kidney failure.
Not a good day.
But it did get me thinking, specifically about my dad. Apropos.
At heart, my dad was a taciturn country boy. He was born in the small, rural town of Point Reyes Station in west Marin County, California. His parents were a truck driver and a housekeeper, his grandparents were gardeners and charcoal burners and boarding house matrons, and the town he lived in was quiet, remote, and full of independent, practical-minded, deeply conservative folks.
Dad’s rustic, back-country upbringing during the 1920s and ’30s was the source of many eye-popping tales of cultural dissonance. I’m pretty sure Dad told us kids some of his stories purely for their shock value. He took pride in his pedigree, his gruff, hardscrabble roots, and much of his identity was tied to a story arc anchored on the picturesque shores of Point Reyes and Tomales Bay.
With this as preamble, it’s not surprising that Dad’s philosophy about pets was . . . different than mine. They were animals, like livestock. He would tell of neighbors who put unwanted whelps in burlap sacks and disposed of them in a cruel and despicable fashion. When it came to the cats and dogs who shared our home, he cultivated a facade of casual disinterest. They were just animals, he’d say.
But it was a lie. (more…)
Unraveling Time
Desert Wind
Ploughman's Son
Ploughman King
The Year the Cloud Fell
The Spirit of Thunder
Shadow of the Storm
The Cry of the Wind
Beneath a Wounded Sky
Cryptogenesis: A Memoir
Kurt R.A. Giambastiani 