Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Friday, March 21, 2008
Disappearing Dreams of Yesterday
Looking around the house I see pictures of me with two boys. Arm extended, they both fit. A hand on my shoulder, my hand on one of theirs, another on a brother. It's a unreal that I have...or had, two boys by my side. "Where's your brother? Get your brother. Help your brother. Stop hitting your brother." I miss giving those orders, yet I can hardly remember. The words seem familiar and foreign to me. Visions of the future with the boys maturing together are incomprehensible. They're part of The disappearing dreams of yesterday. (kris kristopherson)
Easter weekend. The last holiday with Aaron, Easter '05. Many Easters were spent in Florida. Lots of Aaron and Patrick pictures on the beach. Big fun with beach Easter egg hunts. Maybe we will hide Aaron's basket this year.
Sunday, March 16, 2008
The Aaron House, Madison
A Sunday night 9:21 PM. Almost three years after the event and I'm sitting at the same spot doing the same thing--writing on this page. So much has changed. Words I write can't explain everything that's happened.
Here is a link to a work of art by some friends of the Aaron Foundation. It tells a story well.
Aaron's House Madison, WI
Here is a link to a work of art by some friends of the Aaron Foundation. It tells a story well.
Aaron's House Madison, WI
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Awareness
Bodies and minds die,
they are form.
Spirit can not die,
it is essence.
Death is a shedding of all that is not essence.
Planets, stars, galaxies exist in space.
Space is not a place.
Heaven is not a place.
Spirits are released from the body encumbrance,
if not through awareness, then through death.
they are form.
Spirit can not die,
it is essence.
Death is a shedding of all that is not essence.
Planets, stars, galaxies exist in space.
Space is not a place.
Heaven is not a place.
Spirits are released from the body encumbrance,
if not through awareness, then through death.
Friday, March 07, 2008
Fortunate Son
Time is an illusion. The journey is real.
I know what my work is. Time does not do the work. I do the work of being. All of the work of being can't be accomplished in clock time. It is never done. I can quit, but I can't finish.
When I was a little kid I saw my Dad stopped in his steps with chest pains. He would crouch down or sit until the pain passed. Sunday I reached the familiar, family position. The scenery is small from that position. I could see my truck, where my phone was left. I might be closer to the door to the other side than I was to the door of my truck. Wedensday I found out just how close I was to the door. Too close. The cardiologist said "That's probably how your father died."
Gratitude for the doctor who took a stance with me. Peace is in me. I am.
I know what my work is. Time does not do the work. I do the work of being. All of the work of being can't be accomplished in clock time. It is never done. I can quit, but I can't finish.
When I was a little kid I saw my Dad stopped in his steps with chest pains. He would crouch down or sit until the pain passed. Sunday I reached the familiar, family position. The scenery is small from that position. I could see my truck, where my phone was left. I might be closer to the door to the other side than I was to the door of my truck. Wedensday I found out just how close I was to the door. Too close. The cardiologist said "That's probably how your father died."
Gratitude for the doctor who took a stance with me. Peace is in me. I am.
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