Learning about bradycardia answered questions I’ve had about people dying in their sleep. Especially, but not only older people. The image of dying in my sleep got into my imagination….
#4
My heart was old
Before its time—
It almost died in its sleep
For over 15 years my heart gasped for air, Read the rest of this entry »
Van Cliburn performing in the Great Hall of the Moscow Conservatory during the First Tchaikovsky International Competition in 1958
I’m out with D, my temporary chauffeur, for a quick trip to *Raider Joe’s, aka Trader Joe’s. On our way home, heavenly music begins pouring out of the car radio. When I get into the house I turn on the radio to listen to the entire piece….
#3
Music from heaven
Washes over my soul and body
Soothing beauty from angelic fingers
It’s Van Cliburn playing Tchaikowsky’s Piano Concerto #1. Read the rest of this entry »
It’s Wednesday morning, about 7:15am. I’ve just walked into the prep room where I’m shown to my bed. I see several other beds in this busy room, each with so-called privacy curtains.
#2
Curtains close around Act One
I’m alone with my heart and one large plastic bag
The beginning of Act Two
This morning small verses began popping into my mind. In fact, they haven’t stopped coming. So here’s #1 with brief comments about my hospital visit six days ago to get a pacemaker.
#1
Stripped to my
Lowest common denominators
I lie naked
My worst nightmare, especially at this age: Read the rest of this entry »
Tuning the heart of the Longwood Organ. Note grand piano ‘pipe’ in the back!
Counting down–
Tired body and mind
on alert
Waiting—for
what I do not know
to happen Read the rest of this entry »
My heart was broken
Long before the cracks began to show
Holding my breath
To get through harsh punishment
Quiet shallow breathing
To ensure I’m not noticed or called out Read the rest of this entry »
Dad on the right with his older brother, farming in the Midwest, 1920s or 30s.
they journeyed
by rugged road signs
each with its distinct
look and character
weather-beaten
numbered and lettered
pointing the way
luring them on
from here to there
over miles of unexplored
wilderness and wasteland Read the rest of this entry »
before my eyes
they swim
in salt water
old photos
fresh with memories
I blink
reluctant to move
my eyes
tears water
my face
***
Christmas stockings in Altadena Read the rest of this entry »
How loathe I’ve been
To squander this life
To cast to the wind
Or drop into the ground
What I cannot save Read the rest of this entry »
Telling the Truth 