Tag: Family

Claire – An Inspiration!

I have the pleasure, honor, and responsibility of chauffeuring my stepgranddaughter, Claire, to her eyesight therapy. Once or twice a week I take her to ChildeServe. I have to get up and ready much earlier than normally I would. She is always ready. Her walker waiting outside. Her backpack on as she comes out the door.

We take about 20 minutes to get there. It’s been cold and windy, but no bad weather so far. We are both still waking up as we make the trek across town. Some conversation, but mostly it’s me sipping coffee and she telling me what’s up for the day.

Wednesday she shared that the family is going to Florida in March. She and her siblings just found out about it this past week. We talk about what we’ve been eating, what’s up for the weekend. Ben and Emily took their permit driver’s tests on Saturday. It’s a big deal.

Claire is eleven. She has Cerebral Palsy (CP). She has trouble walking. She wears braces. She uses a walker, though not around the house. Claire has survived several surgeries attempting to correct the combination of variations in growth of bone, muscle, and tendon. She works hard to take care of herself and contribute to the shared needs of her family of seven. I have had the privilege of being a part of her extended family for several years. I have watched her grow.

The first time I was at their house, Claire came bounding down the stairs head first. She moved in a controlled, bumpy slide. A huge grin on her face. I’ve rarely seen her without that grin since. But now she walks, with effort, up and down those same stairs.

I have other relatives with disabilities. I’ve seen the challenges families have caring for a child with mental or physical limitations. So I was not taken aback by Claire’s condition. But I’m sure that others’ reactions and responses are different. I know that Claire is painfully aware of how others look at her.

I sit in the waiting room at ChildServe. I am stunned at the number and myriad challenges of the young people and their parents. They come for different, often multiple, kinds of therapy. Claire also receives physical and occupational therapy on a weekly basis. She has most of her life.

(I should probably explain something here. Claire’s eye work. Her eyesight is okay. She has a visual processing disorder. Her brain decides to offer a narrow window of vision. It, for instance, limits her peripheral vision. Unfortunately, the brain decides when and where to concentrate that narrow window. Thus, she is working with a therapist to retrain the brain to increase that window and help her control it. Claire is also challenged with fine motor skill difficulties. Further complicating how she learns in school. Tough stuff!)

Claire is not afraid to stand up for herself. I don’t think she’s always been that way. Wednesday she took her school work to share with her sight therapist. She wants to show her therapist what she is doing in a specific class. She also wants to share the challenges she has with a teacher. This teacher seems not to know how to accommodate her. Unlike a physical disability, a processing disorder is not noticeable to others.

Claire expressed anxiety as we rode from ChildServe to her school. She planned to confront her teacher, armed with the guidance given by her therapist. Claire had written an email to her teacher and received a reply. She recognized that her teacher had good intentions. But she also feels that her teacher’s solutions are not responsive to her needs. Suggestions to use a typing device to take notes or speech-to-text options are not effective. Claire still can’t keep up.

I don’t know yet how that conversation turned out. I’ll try to follow up in a future post.

Which brings me around to the inspiration. As I said, Claire has grown. Physically, sure. But also in maturity. Most notable in our car ride conversations is her vocabulary. And she uses it well. Claire is articulate and expressive. She knows what she wants to say and explains herself well. Sometimes it takes time to process how to respond to a question. I love that she does. She thinks before she speaks. Something we should all aspire to.

Anyone who spends time with Claire surely can see past the physical appearance brought on by her CP. It is still a tragedy to judge a book by its cover. Claire’s looks are maturing. Her radiantly smiling face is transitioning from that of a child to one of a young woman. She carries herself, both physically and mentally, with dignity and confidence. She is not afraid of who she is. She embraces her qualities. She wants, needs, and looks for acceptance by others. Not so different from everyone else.

I am so impressed with Claire. I am a better person for knowing her and sharing her life – with all of her struggles. I hope by writing this message that I can expand people’s understanding of living with disability. People’s acceptance of everyone for who they are. Whether their challenges are physical, cognitive, or emotional. Claire reminds me again that we all are human. We all have worth. We all deserve respect and understanding. I hope you understand me. I hope you join in recognition and acceptance.

Claire, atop Rendezvous Mountain, 2023

Past, Present, and Future

Read if you will. Or just accept my wishes that you have had a good holiday season, and for a happy, healthy new year!

This contemplative message comes to you as we transition from religious and national holidays of the season to celebrating the beginning of a new year. I am unsure of its edifying value. Mostly I muse and wander, skirting around feelings that have emerged as another post-Pam holiday season approached. Read if you will. Or just accept my wishes that you have had a good holiday season, and for a happy, healthy new year!

Past
Present
Future
Living in the Past, Present, and Future

Past

Youth have no past of their own. Few, if any, memories to dwell on. They learn of their past from those within their circles. Family, family friends, school, religious affiliations. Youth develop a past as they age. They typically become aware in their teens. And while learning their past, they start to question. Some learn life’s lessons early through both happy and tragic experiences.

Adults carry their past with them as they bound along life’s highways and byways. All the while adding to the volume and depth of past experiences. The past molds their outlook on life. It impacts their decisions. It is integral to their thought processes. Their past is both a blessing and a curse.

Later in life our early past often lies latent. Only surfacing when reminded. More recent past begins to emerge as repeat experiences. Sometimes melding and becoming confused as intermingling fibers of new and well-worn clothing. The past continues to guide us. And yet we have forgotten so much!

The past is both a teacher and a burden to the aged. Wisdom comes from how we reconcile the past. Yet its weight is always upon us as we navigate what’s left of our lives.

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Present

We live in the present. Or do we? We meet each day anew. Yesterday is in the past. Tomorrow is unknown.

Youth experience each day with little expectation. Their limited past is of little help for the day. They rely on their wits and those whom they accept as having wisdom enough to guide them. Parents, siblings, peers. At the end of the day, they have added good and/or ill experiences to their past. Youth have yet to deeply contemplate the future.

Adults navigate life’s trials and tribulations. Relationships, work, family, social interactions. Though somewhat guided by the past, they are enough to fill the day. The past can straighten life’s paths or obscure roads from vision. The past can lift up or bring down. It does both from time to time. Each day’s decisions are based on past experience and hopes and dreams of the future.

The past envelops us as a binding or a blanket as it becomes the greater part of our life span. More of the day is spent remembering. We can be suffocated by it. We can embrace it. But we can’t escape it. Days are filled with memories. We remember past hopes and dreams for the future. We are on a destiny train to the future.

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Future

Youth do not understand the future. They have no experience to lead them on. Their concept of the future is forever. Their view of the future is couched in their learned past. They start to look to the future as they gather past experience. They develop a concept of what life will bring.

Adults look to the future from instinct. The drive to survive presses notions of sustenance, shelter, procreation. Adults develop plans. Some detail their every move while others press on with vague notions of direction. Aspirations. Hopes. Goals. Wishes. All are looking to the future.

Aging changes future perspective. The future is shorter. It is finite. Aspirations, hopes, goals, and wishes are either fulfilled or lost in the past. The future looks more toward legacy. What will be left behind to lend wisdom to others’ pasts? There is both fulfillment and emptiness as we contemplate Days of Future Past 1.

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Living in the Past, Present, and Future

Personally, this year’s season is a true mixture of the past, present, and future. I am aware of the weight and the wisdom of my past. Memories of holidays from my youth and adulthood mingle with my recent past. They include loved ones who are either gone or far away. We can no longer celebrate as once we did. Decorations, cards, and gifts now recall those memories. Memories of what was and is no more.

At the same time I feel excitement and contentment for what is now my life. New love, new friends, new surroundings add to the joy of being closer to family. Each day is new unto itself. Retirement affords me to choose to do, or not do, the daily tasks before me – within reason. I am thankful for the day.

As in the past, my present hope for your future is a happy, healthy new year!

Past
Present
Future
Living in the Past, Present, and Future

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  1. Album by the Moody Blues ↩︎

More Musings…

Word of the Week – Confabulate
Music – The Other Non-addictive, Mood-altering, Non-substance

Word of the Week – Confabulate

Let me first say that I tried to guess the meaning of confabulate before looking it up. I thought it meant something along the lines of blowing something way out of proportion. I thought my definition was a stretch. The “con” part seemed contradictory to making more out of something. But I took a shot. I wasn’t close!

According to Merriam Webster, confabulate is “to exchange viewpoints or seek advice for the purpose of finding a solution to a problem.” Synonyms include consult, confer, discuss, talk. It’s so common it seems we do it all the time!

Some confabulation is short. Like attempts to bring someone’s words to the surface – like an emotional response. Other confabulations, it seems, try to help develop a theme or a plot, or even a memory.

I can relate to confabulation with my age peers. Like me, they are having difficulty with recall of names, places, and people. We laugh at the effort it takes two or more people to remember any particular thing. We laugh to mask the fear that we are no longer at the top of our game. The reality of the effects of aging.

We often confabulate about where to go or what to eat. We confabulate to figure out how to deal with the weather. I am particularly honored when I get a text or a call from a friend or relative asking for my opinion or to help work through a difficult decision.

But I think I’m making light of the term. Webster’s explains the use of confabulate in much more serious context. Go there to find in-depth understanding. I just like the word as either a verb (confabulate) or a noun (confabulation). And thus ends the discourse on The Word of the Week.

Music – The Other Non-Addictive, Mood-altering, Non-substance

This image arrived in my text threads this week:

I take issue with the first descriptor in the above list. I believe I am addicted to music! Not just making it. Also listening. Music is so ingrained in me. Typically, I am silently (or not so silently) humming or singing a tune in my head. I wonder how I would get along without music!

Lyrics constantly pop into my head as I am listening and talking with others. Sometimes they are completely out of context. The topic of the song and our discussion are not close to the same. I blare out the lyrics in tune. Often they become a play on words. This also leads to research and confabulation to figure out the title and/or artist.

Music is definitely mood-altering. Again I say, “I wonder how I would get along without” it! Religious music had an early influence on my life. That influence changed with the works of Bob Dylan. The Beatles, Simon and Garfunkel, The Moody Blues, and many more also shaped it. It is often the music of my teens and twenties that come to mind in any given situation. Music of the 80’s and 90’s bounce around in my brain. Though I am less influenced by their genres.

Where would I be without my music?! I wrote my earliest, simplistic song while still in high school. I’ve written for and about women. I’ve written about family and friends. I’ve written about dreams and real experiences. Writing and playing my lyrical and/or instrumental music is cathartic! Music has seen me through some of my most difficult times. Aided my recovery. Given me purpose. It is a non-drug medicine!

Common side effects include but are not limited to uncontrolled head bobbing, toe tapping, finger snapping, selective hearing impairment and persistent melody flashbacks

I may have already covered “persistent melody flashbacks.” The rest is soooooo true! You know it is. Sing along. Even out of tune. Out of range. Out of time. You know you do it. It can’t be helped. Music is likely the most potent, readily available panacea for emotional injury. It requires no prescription. You need no insurance. If you are like me, you might not even need a fix. It’s just there!

I’ve done my share of drugs, drunk my share of spirits. Now I do yoga from time to time. I exercise often. Music may be addictive, mood-altering, and sometimes without physical form. But it is clearly one of the most valuable manifestations of human endeavors. If by some chance you are not hooked, I urge you to listen. Take it in. Let it flow through your veins. I doubt you will be disappointed. It may help you heal.

Word of the Week – Confabulate
Music – The Other Non-addictive, Mood-altering, Non-substance

Renaissance Man

The grandson of a friend of mine recently referred to me as a renaissance man. I had to look it up to confirm its meaning, especially since he was referring to me!

It seems to be an apt description. I have had three distinctive careers, construction, project management, and teaching. I have dabbled in several trades and hobbies that may qualify me as one proficient in several areas. Thus, I take his reference as a compliment.

I was immediately reminded of one of my songs, Chameleon, in which I refer to myself thusly, “Jack of some trades, mastering none. Reds and purples hide your fear. Talk a good game for all to hear.” A rather different introspective that seems less flattering or reassured. It got me thinking again about how we perceive ourselves versus how others perceive us, and how our lives affect, and are affected by those we meet along the paths we walk.

Having returned to the area of my upbringing I continue to reconnect with those I know, and who know me, from my teenage years. I hear comments, both directly and indirectly, about what my peers thought of me then. Far different views than what I thought of myself or any notion of what they thought about me.

A friend reminded me that it was/is not just me. We were all trying to navigate the insecurities of our youth. Though some showed it less than others. I suspect that even they, with no outward admission, dealt with the challenges of budding maturity.

Last evening (Thursday) I was with a small group of people, three of which were actually high school classmates of mine, discussing the challenges of parenting adult children. Our guide recommended keeping our mouths shut, reinventing our relationships with our children, and learning to be mentors and coaches rather than being do this or that parents.

We compared generations. Our relationships with our parents – both directions. Relationships with our own adult children, and what a different environment our grandchildren live in today. They have never lived without the Internet and the plethora of technology.

Looking in the mirror, I see no resemblance to the boy in my high school picture. Nor can I point to many similarities in my new/old acquaintances from my past. We have all gone through changes and challenges. We have nearly all dealt with parents and children who aren’t what we thought or wanted them to be. Our grandchildren live in a world that we, being older, are little equipped to guide them. Though we want desperately to save them from the mistakes we have made.

How does one end up a renaissance person?! What combination of talents, skills, parenting, personality traits, and social interaction leads to a life of diversity that gives the perception of wide-ranging ability? I don’t know. I realize now, though, that our perceptions of ourselves are not necessarily how others view us. I realize, also, that perceptions of ourselves and others change as time marches on.

I am thankful for the positive contributions I have made to our lives, and rue the negative impacts I have had. I am thankful for how those with whom I have interacted, have impressed me, and for how most perceive me in a positive way. These are good aspirations in life to achieve – at least for me.

Vim and Vinegar

Fun With Words

Several days ago someone described my demeanor as full of vim and vinegar. Of course I laughed, knowing that the “real” saying is “vim and vigo(u)r“, meaning full of enthusiasm and energy. As you will see by clicking the link above, vim and vinegar is a malapropism. “Malapropism is when a word or phrase is used by mistake in place of a similar sounding word or phrase.”

This I found while researching the difference between “vim and vinegar”, and “vim and vigor.” In fact, “vim and vinegar” is actually the blending of two different sayings, the other being “piss and vinegar“, or “spit and vinegar” if you prefer to be less crude in your language (having fun with words yet?). Of course, looking at the various definitions, it is clear that there is little distinction between all three iterations. Thus minimizing the validity of the malapropism attribute.

Whew! I sure am glad to have finally found some way to explain what was a laughable moment!

I’d like to expand upon the concept of “Fun With Words.” I have a lot of fun with words as I write this blog. Drafting a message, changing descriptive words to tweak the meaning to fit as closely as I can the thoughts and feelings I wish to convey. All enjoyable to me. I like word games. I also like number games. Let me expand on this.

My siblings and I have been Zoom meeting on Sundays for almost three years, beginning in the midst of COVID when travel was curtailed. It began as an alternative way to visit our aging Mother without the travel. It has become an amazing bonding experience during which we share our experiences and views on such topics as food, music, shows and movies, and politics. Our 99+ year old Mother still sits in to listen to our support and banter of each other.

As time passed, several sibs began discussing Wordle, a daily puzzle published by the New York Times in which one has to find a five-letter word in six guesses or less. I know some of you know and love it. I resisted for a long time but have now played nearly 200 days of the puzzle and enjoy trying to think like the authors. I use the same beginning word every day in hopes of finding which letters are included and which are in the right place in the secret word.

I downloaded the Wordle app, though I did not subscribe to the Times nor the games. What I found were several other enjoyable and challenging word, number, and matching games that I play on a nearly daily basis. Spelling Bee and Strands accompany Wordle as challenging word games. I’ve always enjoyed Sudokus. Times Games offers three challenge levels if you share my proclivity. I recently added “Tiles” to my daily games routine, challenging my visual matching skills. I recommend them all.

Having completed my move to central Iowa, I am left only with the arranging and rearranging of “stuff” in my apartment to work on over time. I think my vim and vigor stem from left over energy and the excitement of new experiences in a new place, meeting new people and connecting with family. I hope I can maintain my vitality for many years to come, and continue to enjoy, and have fun with words.

Open and Closed

And Reversing the Order

Yesterday I woke to the warm and wonderful surroundings of my new fourth-floor apartment. I just had to “pick up my guitar and play.” Anticipation welled up inside at the realization that this was the closing date for my house in eastern Iowa.

Less than ten weeks ago I met with my friend and Realtor(r), Terri, to determine if making a move closer to my son and his family was feasible. My life has since been a whirlwind of hard work and change as I transitioned from life at one pond to another. From one city to another. From one past life to a new life, meeting new and old friends and becoming an integral part in the life of my son and his family. I could not have imagined that my decision would positively impact my life in so many ways.

I was sad to leave my friends and neighbors Jason, China, and Adalynn who have adopted me as if an uncle. I have both supported and been supported by Steve and Kim through fire and flood, and shared joys and sorrows as we learned about each other’s pasts. Good neighbors are great gifts!

I heard the news that all had gone well with the closing as I was attending a luncheon in what has become a fairly busy social calendar. The evening was capped off with a visit from my son and his partner to celebrate with a glass of champagne. I reiterated, “I live here now.”

But I was also aware of latent emotion lingering beneath the joyful surface. It’s a sadness for the loss that necessitated change and new beginnings. A sadness for the loss of the one I loved so deeply and the loss of what we had together. Of course, it could not help but surface.

What contradictions we endure in our lives. Such conflicting thoughts and emotions. How do we reconcile the push and pull of happiness and sadness. And yet we all do. It is in deed an indicator that we are living, sentient beings.

Somehow, as I traversed this day of transition, a day of looking forward with hope and looking back with melancholy, I felt a peaceful contentment for where I am and where I have been. Looking out over the pond from my new abode, somehow marrying the past with the future.

Thank you all for making this journey with me so far. I truly look forward to what lies ahead. Knowing it will not always be cheerful. Understanding that there must be other challenges and sadness ahead. But this day I celebrate where I am – who I am – and what might be.

On the Other Side

I began this blog in March of 2020 just as COVID was beginning to really grip the world. I was concurrently in the early stages of providing extended care for my wife suffering from Parkinson’s Disease with Dementia – or Lewy Bodies Disease depending on who’s doing the diagnosing. At first posting was sporadic but began to give me an outlet for expressing my hopes, fears, frustrations, love, and learning.

As time and disease progressed, my musings became more cathartic as I delved into music, travel, and continued challenge. When Pam died, I found myself more committed to consistent discourse on many subjects, but most importantly to me, about me working through my grieving process for a loss I couldn’t comprehend. You, my faithful readers, have supported me with your responses, your concern, your caring, and yes, love.

Therefore, I think it only fair and fitting for me to convey the excitement and wonder I am experiencing as I realize I have emerged on the other side. I’ve seen it approaching. I could sense the change in me. In my relationship with my Pam. With acceptance of things that, though I in no way wanted, could do nothing to change.

As it happened, it really began with the sudden decision two months ago that it was time to move closer to where my son and his family live. I realized that I no longer needed or wanted to be all the time reminded of my former life that was so viciously taken from me by a disease. My mate that I love taken away much too soon. Resolute, I began a new journey, still unfolding, that moved and accelerated at a pace I had no clue would catapult me to where I am now.

Since then, I quickly acquired an apartment, began moving “stuff”, and realized I could already live in it. Within a couple weeks I had abandoned my former house to begin a new chapter. I have not looked back. And though I so enjoyed that house, neighbors, and neighborhood, I am totally comfortable and excited in my new abode. Now I have sold “our” home. Soon to be forever in my past as I experience my present and my new future.

I have re-established, and in some cases begun new relationships with high school acquaintances from fifty years ago. I am realizing new opportunities to be a grandparent, a father to my son, and the possibility of new companionship and maybe even future love.

Those of you who know me know that I have lived with purpose over the last two plus years to work through my grief, to take care of my physical and mental health, with the goal of making to this new point of possibilities, new hopes for a happy future. I think I have made it!

Yet I recognize and realize that, as I venture into new and uncharted territory, times and places that extend beyond what had been, I will always love Pam. I will never forget her. I still think of her daily. And often I smile. I smile because I know that she knew that if she went first, I would get here and that she wanted this for me. I can reminisce about our good times without dwelling on the desperate last few years of challenge and sadness.

So I am sharing, and hoping to adequately convey, my feelings of excitement and thankfulness for all that has been and the prospect of things to come. My sincere hope has been that by sharing my experience I could be a guide, a comfort, a solace, to at least one other person who reads wutjavia. I can say confidently that I have made it. I am not so naive to think that there won’t be challenges, loss, and heartache in my future. But I have regained my strength and self confidence. I am ready to face what comes.

And it is amazing. And I just wanted you all to know. You have been instrumental in me mastering my struggles. I hope you sense and are edified by what I am writing today. I hope and yes, maybe even pray, that you can glean something from it. And… Thank you!

P.S. In the midst of my excitement and current euphoria, I just learned that my brother-in-law’s sister passed away last night after an extended illness. They have been geographically separated for many years but fortunately have had recent opportunity to be together. My sincere condolences go out to Eddie, his 100+ year old Mother, his younger sister, and extended family. My heart is sad in the knowledge of what they now have to experience (again) as they work through their grief journeys. Eddie, I wish you well!

“Real Men Love Babies”

So says a billboard somewhere on the back highways of Alabama.

Its intended purpose is to persuade men to vote against women’s right to choose, against any abortion. It is indicative of a Southern religious mentality that pits the right wing, freedom from government control of their lives groups, against other’s views of freedom being about letting people make their own personal decisions.

Our society is based on a set of laws that is meant to ensure that all persons are treated equally, that we steer clear of laws that limit government control while providing for the safety and welfare of everyone within our borders.

“Hang on, hang on, hang on.” So said Eric Clapton during an Unplugged performance of Alberta on M-TV many years ago. I recognize that I am in no way knowledgeable enough nor qualified to write about this subject. I can only try to communicate how I feel and how such expressions, i.e. billboards, affect and affront me.

I am pro-life AND pro-choice. Of course I/we want people to have children. It is not only wonderful, but innate for our survival as a species. But I cannot fathom being forced to carry something growing in me that I neither meant to cause nor want! If it were men who had to carry a fetus in the womb, I think they’d be singing a different song.

But what I simply cannot understand is how the very people who want less government control of their property, their money, their “freedoms” are the same people who want to control others’ bodies and thoughts because a god, or any other socio-religious entity says it’s the only true and right way! The same people who truly believe that some humans are more human than others, or less so, think that the only sustainable race profile is white, Christian!

As I read what I am writing I know that I have now gone off the diving board into the deep end of opinion at the risk of upsetting those I have tried so hard not to. All in hopes that you “like” what you read. I feel bad if that’s how you feel. I respect it. I understand if you think you must divorce yourself from this blog. But I do not apologize!

Maybe next week I’ll get back to the wading pool with warm fuzzy topics like travel or music, family and friends. But not today. Today I am taking a stand (or a dive, not to mix metaphors)!

Life on Earth

While visiting family I find myself not only in different surroundings, but with different stimuli while on an elevated deck contemplating the universe.

My first encounters were with subtropical weather. High humidity, higher heat, the build up of rain-filled clouds during afternoons and evenings, sometimes precipitating overnight. Everything is lush and green, not unlike home, but in the hills of Georgia, tall trees are prevalent, reaching for the comforting embrace of the firmament, surrounding the houses and streets, hiding much of the sky that I normally see at home.

As I looked up between the towering foliage I saw the sky – our atmosphere – in a way that I don’t remember realizing before. Like a 60-mile thick blanket it warms us. It cools us, nourishes us, and protects us from external universal forces that would otherwise make life on earth impossible.

As the building, billowing clouds mixed with the azure sky framed in tall pine and tulip trees, I somehow understood our earthly blanket’s lifegiving significance. At the same time I felt that it, as other living beings on earth, is threatened by how humanity treats this unique, amazing phenomenon. It left me simultaneously in awe and in fear.

Returning to the deck on another afternoon, life touched me in a very different way. A dragonfly landed in a potted orange tree next to me. I was struck not only by its beauty, but also by the complexity of its body, by its wing structure, transparent and framed in blue , and the attachment to its torso. Its eyes and mouth (basically its face) conjured human-like attributes. What an amazing being. What an amazing manifestation of life on earth!

When I moved it flew, only to return in seconds to the same or nearby branch, staring at me and I at it. So I spoke to it. It seemed to nod in understanding as I expressed my appreciation of its beauty and life force. Again it flew. Again it returned. I decided to approach it directly from ahead. I extended my hand. It stayed. I touched its hair-thin black legs. It stayed until I tried to lift them in hopes of having it transfer to my finger. It flew.

Walking away to the other end of the deck I felt so in touch with life on earth. I thought, wouldn’t it be wonderful to become so aware and connected to life on this earth that, in the end, I would simply fade away into it, mixing my energy with the plants and animals, the air and the sky. Finally, I would be one with life on earth. Maybe I already am.

New Horizons

Literally and Figuratively

The Moody Blues songs continue to affect me as I travel this Amazing Journey (The Who). Since I was a teenager who purchased his first album, To Our Children’s, Children’s Children (The Moody Blues), at the recommendation of my good friend Sam, The Moody Blues lyrics have paralleled my path in life time after time. This week was no exception.

Actually, I was searching for another song by The Moody Blues as I was driving between my new residence and my former residence (more on that later), one which I cannot remember now. I thought maybe it was on The Seventh Sojourn, not one of my favorites of their albums. Though it was not on that album, I listened to New Horizons. Once again, The Moody Blues came through with meaningful words that describe at least some of what I am thinking and feeling.

Well, I’ve had dreams enough for one
And I’ve got love enough for three
I have my hopes to comfort me
I’ve got my new horizons out to sea

But I’m never gonna lose your precious gift
It will always be that way
‘Cause I know I’m gonna find my peace of mind
Someday

Where is this place that we have found?
Nobody knows where we are bound
I long to hear, I need to see
‘Cause I’ve shed tears too many for me

But I’m never gonna lose your precious gift
It will always be that way
‘Cause I know I’m gonna find my peace of mind
Someday

On the wind, soaring free
Spread your wings, I’m beginning to see
Out of mind, far from view
Beyond the reach of the nightmare come true

Well, I’ve had dreams enough for one
And I’ve got love enough for three
I have my hopes to comfort me
I’ve got my new horizons out to sea

But I’m never gonna lose your precious gift
It will always be that way
‘Cause I know I’m gonna find my own peace of mind
Someday
Someway

David Justin Hayward

Over two plus years without my Pam, I have had to look for new beginnings, new meanings – new horizons, in hopes of leading a fulfilling remainder of my time here, and honoring the life of an amazing woman with whom I was fortunate enough to be married. I’ve struggled with feelings of loss, anger, sadness, and longing as I mourn Pam’s life lost and my life without her. Is she still in the house with me? Does she go where I go? If I make changes will she still be with me?

After over a year of contemplating a move to be closer to family, I finally made the decision to put my house on the market and move to an apartment close to my son. Literally – a new horizon!

View From the 4th Floor Deck of My Apartment

Among my recent epiphanies is the fact that Pam is with me wherever I go. Though I am reminded by places and things, I am not dependent on them for remembering her nor staying connected. Additionally, I realized that my efforts to resurrect my music in her honor have proved to ingrain her in my playing. It’s not just when I play the songs I wrote for or about her. She is inveterate in all of my music. I constantly feel her with me as I practice and perform. What a gift!

Our world is full of complexity and doubt; doubt for our earth, doubt for our government, doubt for the safety and welfare of our children and grandchildren. I am thankful for new horizons and the hope they inspire. I am thankful for Pam’s inspiration to be all I can be, even after her passing. Another gift!

Thursday would have been Pam’s 73rd birthday. She did not quite make it to her 71st. As with other special calendar events, this one was difficult for me and other family and friends who loved her. We hate the loss. But we are also inspired to flourish in our lives because she wanted the best for us. And so she lives on.

May you find some peace of mind in this knowledge.