"When he departed" by Emily West Afanador
There is something that I own
That no one knows about. A secret
I keep -- not because it's bad
or good. I‘ve just kept it
to myself. I have
in my possession
the undershirt
my dad was wearing
when he died. It is cut
down the side and
at the shoulder strap
where the medics got access to his
chest. They tried to revive him.
I can picture it
and I only hope
that my father’s soul
was feeling good. At peace
with leaving.
I have his shirt. The last thing
That he wore
Next to his skin
Closest to his body
When he departed
(see original here on Cowbird)
Whe he departed
My Death Space Dot Com
Often I bookmark links or save things that seem they'll have some interesting content to offer. This one sat open in an internet tab for about a week, but I'm so glad I finally read it and didn't just close it.
"My Death Space Dot Com" by Bruce Bond
Now that obituaries come online
with coroner reports and full disclosure,
imagine the ways to betray a man
come out of hiding to die. Ask the bloggers
who weigh in on my friend’s bad habit,
who make of it their own drug strung out
across a mirror, so when they pay tribute
to their power, how they had their doubts
about his talent, his flu, I think how lucky
I was to receive the kindness of the weak.
My death space, as they call it, as if it’s me
who died. A life, we know, is complex.
But death is simple. A place to talk shit,
to license grief, or barring that, to kill it.
------------
This one I understand less. But I like many of its lines.
"Handy Guide" by Dean Young
Avoid adjectives of scale.
Dandelion broth instead of duck soup.
Don’t even think you’ve seen a meadow, ever.
The minor adjustments in our equations
still indicate the universe is insane,
when it laughs a silk dress comes out its mouth
but we never put it on. Put it on.
Cry often and while asleep.
If it’s raw, forge it in fire.
That’s not a mountain, that’s crumble.
If it’s fire, swallow.
The heart of a scarecrow isn’t geometrical.
That’s not a diamond, it’s salt.
That’s not the sky but it’s not your fault.
My dragon may be your neurotoxin.
Your electrocardiogram may be my fortune cookie.
Once an angel has made an annunciation,
it’s impossible to tell him he has the wrong address.
Moonlight has its own befuddlements.
The rest of us can wear the wolf mask if we want
or look like reflections wandered off.
Eventually armor, eventually sunk.
You wanted love and expected what?
A parachute? Morphine? A gold sticker star?
The moment you were born—
you have to trust others because you weren’t there.
Ditto death.
The strongest gift I was ever given
was made of twigs.
It didn’t matter which way it broke.
Expect Love to get here soon
Dear God,
In Psalms, David says: "Be brave. Be strong. Don't give up. Expect God to get here soon." (Ps. 31:24, The Message)
I come before you as a person and on behalf of anyone with a heavy heart. Around the world there are people who need your courage. Who need your strength. People who feel like giving up. People who need you to get here soon.
We come to you tired and confused. With questions and requests. In need of forgiveness and grace. Fighting battles we find impossible to fully surrender to you. Through it all, help us to always, always come back to you. Give us peace when we can't put our minds at rest.
God, we also praise you for the times we can look back and see how you helped us be brave. How you gave us much-needed strength. How you gave us what we needed to keep going. And how you were there for us in the exact moment we needed you. Thank you for being patient, caring, full of love.
Guide our relationships and interactions, no matter how small, because at the end of the day, that is truly all we have.
We love you and thank you,
Amen
Disclaimer: I'm almost tempted not to post this, or edit it so it doesn't scream "over-religious." And if you feel that way, I completely understand. If you've ever had moments in life where you've felt God so vividly in your life and using you, that may help you understand. None of this is me. I'm just a person, as messed up as they come (and if you don't believe it, I'll happily supply you with evidence). What I've experienced this week didn't make me feel "above" anyone but opened my eyes to the beauty and importance of everyone around me. I'm blessed by you.
Additionally, if you aren't sure about God or a higher being, I encourage you to insert something that works for you. Perhaps "Love." I'm not here to convince you of God. I'm not always convinced myself. But insert whatever good you feel in this world that makes life worth living.
Living in Lincoln for the foreseeable future, I made the grown-up move of transferring my church membership. When I was asked to do prayer soon after, I felt like it was a perfect opportunity. There were things that I wanted to say, but I wasn't sure what. And so on Saturday morning, I worked on the above prayer for an hour.
In my friend Heather's book, I remembered there being many quotes and verses at the beginning of her chapters. Leafing through them, I instantly connected with the one I quoted above. It was so simple, so deep, so strong. It ended up being the structure for my prayer and said for me basically everything I felt.
That morning felt divine. I knew I had been given a perfect moment. What I didn't know was the week that lay ahead of me.
Sunday night I was stressed and worried about work. After talking to a friend and getting some good sleep, I felt calm and confident on Monday morning. And much to my surprise, the first day of the week was tremendous. Things were coming together, happening on time, being planned for the future. I felt confident and proud.
Things have continued to go well for me personally. It's been one of the (if not the) best weeks at work. Around me, I saw it wasn't the same for everyone. I saw other coworkers and friends worry, stress, heartache, exhaustion, frustration—all things that I strongly connected with in empathy or first-hand experience.
But I could feel God calling over and over through those four short sentences: "Be strong. Be courageous. Don't give up. Expect God to get here soon." And over and over I thought those things for people and situations who needed them.
I don't know if anyone else has felt how I have. But I hope others saw in that verse things that I saw. And at the very least, I hope I was more able to help encourage or act positively in my interactions.
As I reflected on my prayer and more on the verse, I noticed other things about my week. I noticed that in several areas that I was able to take large steps forward. Steps that I had wanted to take for a long time. And not only did I take them, but I felt good about them. I felt free. I felt better. I didn't regret it. I didn't want to look back.
I hope this marks a permanent turning point in my life. I hope this isn't short-lived. By no means do I feel like I have it together. That a great multitude of questions have been answered. The funny thing is, I don't feel like any of my questions were answered. But I guess what I feel is an overwhelming amount of joy, hope, peace, love, and contentment. I feel like my soul has become aware of what things are truly important; I've been able to let things go that aren't.
I expect this feeling to pass. I expect things to get worse. I expect there to be a low after this high. But this is an important experience. A vital marker on my journey. I want to look back on this. To remember how I felt (even if reading it may make me want to throw up in my mouth a little).
I'm grateful. Incredibly thankful. In this moment, I sense so much love and beauty even in the most irritating people and situations. Life is a gift, ya'll. And I can't expect this to make you feel what I have. But I hope that somehow, at sometime in your journey when you need it, that you too experience it. That it's so powerful that you can't help but stay up late to write about.
You are unique. You matter. You are loved. Be strong. Be courageous. Don't give up. Expect Love to get here soon.
Making the most of a missed flight
I wish I could say I at least slept well, but I didn’t. I haven’t really at all this week. So when I woke up a few minutes before 6 a.m. with my flight out of Omaha departing at 6 a.m., I was more than panicked. At the time, I at least thought my flight was leaving later, and I could make it. So I shot out of my bed, room, apartment and Lincoln like a bat out of hell. Then realized there was no possible way to make it.
I screamed an obscenity into the awakening air and drove faster as if it would help something. Finished talking to American Airlines as I merged onto I-80 and turned on the radio. At first I was calm. Something will work out. Then came short frustrated and despondent tears while on hold with AA to see if there was anything more they could do.
At some point, you have to accept that things are just the way they are. Fortunately, I save beating myself up for occasions when I really, really deserve it. I didn’t yell at God for landing me a cheap ticket and then letting me oversleep. I didn’t even hate American Airlines for not doing more to help me out. No, I had missed my flight, and that was that.
There was no reason to rush. I kept the speed limits. Calmly parked, caught the shuttle from long-term parking, got my stand-by ticket, went through security, waited.
Wind and hail had hit us the night before but affected Omaha the worst. A window in the shuttle was busted out, as were others in many of the parked vehicles. Flights were affected, so I wasn’t the only one waiting to continue my trip. As badly as I wanted to be on that plane, who was I to say that I needed to be on board more than anyone else?
For a while I just sat. Crossed my fingers every time they called out a name. Browsed my social media accounts and emails. Looked at the people around me.
A young guy in an army uniform sat behind me with what I assumed were his father and sister (or maybe girlfriend). They made small talk and laughed before the flight started to board. I didn’t stare or intrude their private moment but I could tell the hug was extra extra long, with many tears. And me already having a roller-coaster morning almost had a couple of my own. They watched him for as long as they could, the girl bursting into tears and hugging the older man for a minute.
My heart aches for people who are hurting. But the idea of actually stepping in as a stranger is often the last seemingly appropriate thing to do. As they started to walk away, the idea went back and forth in my head like a pinball between two kickers. Before I fully knew what I would say, I was catching up with them. When they turned all I could think to say was, “Tell him thank you.” I shook their hands and wished them luck. I know I added more emotion to their morning, but I hope it was more meaningful than awkward.
I imagine that as much fear and sadness goes into deployment as does bravery. And while it made me appreciate him and the many other men and women who go through that to serve their country, the connection I felt came from something different.
They knew he might not come back. And I’m worried this maybe the last big event I get to experience with both my grandparents.
Sometimes I wonder if as a Christian or romantic, I stretch and attach meaning to situations that are just rose-colored reassurances. But maybe I needed to feel and appreciate their family’s sacrifice. And maybe they needed someone to vocalize it.
As I sit in Starbucks working as a much happier camper after Chai and pumpkin bread, I’m grateful for those in the armed forces. For the pretty sunset I wouldn’t have seen if I hadn’t been late. For supportive friends and family who feed me with good thoughts. For getting a cheap ticket and time off work.
And at midnight (hopefully), for finally being back in Texas.
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