Earthworms and Moonshine

I’ve spent some time back “home” in coastal Georgia this summer, far more than any ordinary summer, and I’m sharing stories this month about time with Dad in his final days and the stories he shared. Dad was a Baptist minister who served twice as pastor of First Baptist Church on St. Simons Island, Georgia – so my brother and I grew up there – learning to swim and ride bikes, learning to read and multiply and add, learning to crab off the pier and fish and learning to live. We lived a few other places over the years, but St. Simons came full circle as the beginning and the end of Dad’s career as a family of four.

I think what I loved most about growing up on an island wasn’t really ever about the where, but about the what and the whom~ more specifically, the what of childhood and its carefree nature. The friends, the family time, and the things we did together. It surprises me when I go back there that I ever lived and played in all that extreme heat. As a post-menopausal female now, I much prefer cooler places with drier air. While I love the beach, I’m not a fan of swimming in any ocean because Jaws came out when I was ten years old and wrecked my ability to see anything but a place where hungry sharks lurk when I look to the sea. It scared me so bad I didn’t even want to put my hands in the kitchen sink to wash dishes after that – – let alone go down to the shoreline.

My good friend Lisa Warren and I used to ride our bikes to church back in the 1970s when the world was a safer place, and I remember Dad’s sermon jokes he told from the pulpit. He told so many of them that always helped break the ice and get the sermon going. In his final days, I recorded a retelling of a favorite joke that you can hear him tell in his own voice below.

Earthworms and Moonshine

The Sunday School teacher had a mason jar of moonshine and an earthworm. He drops that earthworm in that moonshine, and it disintegrates.

Now, boys and girls, what does that teach you?

A little boy said, “If you drink moonshine, you won’t have worms.”

Today, I salute childhood summertime memories in a tricube: three stanzas of three lines each, each line having three syllables.

Summer Tricube Salute

days are hot
sun is strong
dragonflies

nap a lot
nights are long
record highs

fish fry pot
crickets throng
sunset skies

Telling Stories to Pass the Time and Touch the Future

Today is Slice of Life Tuesday, and we’re writing to a prompt shared by Jenna Komarin: “The only thing that makes life possible is permanent, intolerable uncertainty; not knowing what comes next.” — Ursula K. Le Guin

That quote aptly describes the past six weeks, from the time my father took a steep nosedive the last week of May after finishing chemotherapy treatments and died of complications from Pulmonary Fibrosis on Friday, June 13. Even though there was a known certainty in the dense fog of uncertainty, the glimmer of hope in the uncertainty is what kept us all going.

Throughout the month of July, I’ll be using Dad’s stories I captured in the final weeks of his life to share poems about things that were on his mind – and I’m using the actual words from recorded audio, preserving the wording the way he spun it. I’m grateful to my friend Janette Bradley for sharing the idea to record these conversations to play again whenever I need to hear his voice.

When my brother Ken and I were there with Dad as he was rapidly deteriorating, we asked him to tell stories of family and his younger days to pass the time and keep his (and our) mind off the endless waiting and dreadful reality as things kept taking turn after turn like some sputtering single-plane engine spinning wildly out of control before the crash. It took some effort through broken breaths and the din of the oxygen machine that reminded me so much of a noisy generator, but he managed to share priceless treasures full of nuggets of wisdom from a life well lived with rich descriptions of family and friends from long ago.

In one story, he spoke an unintended haiku about his mother out of thin air. He told us, “Your grandmother said, ‘we dig our graves with our teeth,’ and she was not wrong.” I counted the syllables and captured the wisdom that he was sharing with his children ~ wisdom that his grandchildren and great grandchildren will appreciate in the coming years as they continue to remember Dad. Even when – – no, especially when – – life feels so uncertain.

Media Clip: Dad Telling About His Mother’s Sayings

Dad’s Thin Air Haiku

your grandmother said

we dig our graves with our teeth

and she was not wrong

Note: My grandmother’s quote is attributed to Thomas Moffett, a physician from the 1600s, and later to Thomas Edison, who often gets credited as the originator.

Special thanks to Two Writing Teachers at Slice of Life

Tell Me You’re a Tree Hugger Without Telling Me You’re a Tree Hugger

for 18 years there have been no curtains

hanging in my house ~ I was against it

there have been no blinds, no shades –

just sheers to diffuse the sunlight

streaming in

but only in a few windows

the trees that once filtered it

have all been stripped from the land

more violently than a thief

ripping the pearls off a debutante

but today the house ~ once bright~

is dark and dim to keep the cool

not the oven it became

when the last trees fell

and I succumbed to curtains

but now depression

I fear

is setting in

what is life if not living among the trees?

One Little Hummer Pantoum – and Why I Love Birdwatching

I came to love birdwatching when, as a child, my mother pointed out every bird and called it by name. Wherever we were, she’d point to cardinals, chickadees, bluebirds, and tell us about them. On drives from our home to visit our grandparents, Mom spotted every hawk and announced it – Cooper’s Hawk, Red-Tailed Hawk, Red-Shouldered Hawk, and so on. She knew them all. My mom’s mother was known for her landscaped yard with flowers and shrubs of many kinds – – along with her bird feeders and bird baths. There was never any doubt that I’d take their legacy of their deep love of birds into future generations.

It’s also why I feel their presence most closely where birds are concerned. And it’s why sometimes I wonder if birds are angels, of a sort. It’s why my heart has been so heavy since they clear cut all the trees on our farm, save for a few hardwoods – after putting out specific seeds to attract specific birds over the years and then celebrating when they showed up. We will replant, but tall trees are years away.

I doubled down on my hummingbird feeders for that reason, and was delighted to see that my favorite hummingbird from last summer has returned. I cried when she left last year, lingering longer than all the rest, and I’d know her anywhere. She’s the only one who gives thanks for her food, looking me straight in the eye with sincerity. She’s back.

one little hummer

hovers close, looks me in the eye

expressing thanks for her sweet nectar

a fighter jet on gratitude pause

hovers close, looks me in the eye

just as she did last summer

a fighter jet on gratitude pause

this ruby-throated hummer

just as she did last summer

she was the last to fly south

this ruby-throated hummer

turning my tears of grief to joy

she was the last to fly south

expressing thanks for her sweet nectar

turning my tears of grief to joy

one little hummer

First The Landscape Changed

first the landscape changed ~

two months ago they clear cut this land

harvested the pine trees

I cried for the trees,

for the birds

I’d loved to watch from the front porch

for their nests

for their eggs

for their fledglings

a few remained in the hardwoods,

the usual cast of characters~

cardinals, wrens, finches, pine warblers

my favorite wood thrushes

but then Dad died

and the world changed

June Open Write Day 2 of 3 with Tammi Belko

Tammi Belko of Ohio is our host today for the second day of the June Open Write, inspiring us to write poems about our normalcy. You can read her full prompt here.

Tammi explains the process:

1. Use the word “normal” or another word of your choice.
2. Brainstorm examples or characteristics of that word as they relate to your life or the world around you past or present.

3. Write a poem that defines your chosen word. Your poem may take any form.

Teaching Ideas:

  • Choose nuanced vocabulary words for students to incorporate into their poems.
  • Have students select nuanced words to describe a character from a novel studied in class and use the word in their poem.

Kim’s Normal Poem

the day normal changed

normal changed on Friday the 13th

the way things do

when Dad drew his last breath

my brother and I

had gone home

for showers and sleep

planning to return

shortly

but shortly came sooner

than we’d thought

and the Hospice nurse

called to tell us

we could come spend time

with him before

she called the funeral home

we walked in to find him

under a scripture-embroidered

bright yellow blanket

wearing his Georgia Bulldogs cap

as if he were taking a nap

right before the game

at perfect peace

with the world

as we exchanged

a knowing look:

it would only be normal

for our quirky dad to

wear his velvet-sleeved

doctoral robe

and ball cap straight

through the pearly gates

***

he brought tears

and laughter as folks

realized: this is so Felix!

Demi-Sonnet for a Summer Night

fairy lights twinkle in summertime trees

night magic sparkles on firefly green leaves

darkness of black sky sets stage for the stars

evening’s cool blanket, reprieve from the heat

front porch swing beckoning rest for sore feet

chamomile tea welcomes day’s end with peace

myth’s constellations: such stories they weave

A Demi Sonnet for Jessie

Jessie 

her servant’s heart embraced their broken hope

 her gentle spirit wielded toughest love 

such prayerful presence resurrecting souls

her intercessions strong on their behalf 

(and even in their healing, they could laugh)

in restoration, re-learned how to cope 

with Jessie‘s guiding wisdom from above 

June Gift Basket

If I were giving

you a gift basket

I’d make it a summertime sensation!

you’d receive

a skin-safe clean sunscreen

to keep you scorch-free and silky

a pair of sunglasses with readers

to soften the sunbeams

and a splishy

lightweight water tumbler

to saturate your senses

a basket sure

to make a splash !