Telling the Truth

connecting the dots of my life

Tag: Health and Well-being

Rain

rain on uneven pavement, loftransport.wordpress.com

Rain drops
on drenched ground
eyeglasses, face
and heart

Cracks loom
in un-even pavement
Tears spring unbidden
Artesian wells overflow

Unnoticed
I walk through this cold front
of memories, grief and healing

***

This morning I walked as usual Read the rest of this entry »

Unwired!

Trader Joe's British Muffins

Dear Friends,

The wires are off my jaw, and the end is upon me! The end of Strictly Pureed Food, that is. Chewing (what is that, anyway?) is number one on the list of skills I need to relearn.

Granted, Read the rest of this entry »

Taking Heart, and a P.S. for My Readers

Tuning the Heart of the Longwood Organ

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 »

das Gift

Gift

My family legacy
If not my inheritance
deposited in me a great Gift
The kind that kept on giving
Long after I drained the last drop
And tried to transform it
into a candlestick holder
now coated with hardened
layers of waxy tears
trickling down the
curve of my face Read the rest of this entry »

On My Mother’s Table | Memories

A graceful old table
With fold-down flaps
On each side
Beautiful scrolling
Along the edges
Sitting there in the kitchen Read the rest of this entry »

Hi, I’m Smudge. . .

Prince Oliver Smudge the Second, August 2014

Prince Oliver Smudge the Second, August 2014

while Queen Elouise
is away Prince Smudge will play
be-bop-a-lula!

*****

I’m her baby
And I don’t mean maybe!

***

How’s that for my very first haiku + poem?
I think it’s way past time for you to hear about ME–
straight from the cat’s mouth!

*

My Short Long Tail Tale of Being Lost and Found

Someone abandoned me in a state park!
Lost, lonely, scared, hungry and soaked with rain,
No one seemed to care about me.
I cried a lot.

One day I looked up and saw two very large, long-hair animals
standing on two legs each.
They smiled a lot, talked sweet and held their arms out to me,
but I knew better.
I wasn’t about to let them get their big paws on me!

After a long time they left without me.
I didn’t know whether to be relieved or sorrowful.
Then they came back,
thanks to their kind, patient chauffeur mother.
They waited around until they saw me again,
but guess what?
I was already watching them.
They were being very cagey.

They opened a little can of kitty food and held it out
so I could smell it.
I almost died, it smelled so yummy!
But I KNEW they were just trying to trick me!
So they kept consulting with each other,
conspiring about what to do next.

Suddenly they nodded their heads in twinly agreement.
I knew right then I was in double do-do.
Two against one is never fair!
They looked at me and started backing up very slowly,
leaving little crumbs of  yummy chicken-flavored cat food
on the ground, sort of like Hansel and Gretel
in the  deep dark scary woods.
Even though I knew it was dangerous,
I followed the trail.

The path of cat food bits led to a parking lot
with a car that had a big cage in it.
And guess what?
The rest of the food was sitting in the can,
right inside the cage!
I KNEW it was a trick.
Didn’t I just tell you they were very cagey?

But what’s a hungry kitty to do?

Smudge on Rescue Day, 9 Aug 2013

So they shut me up in the big cage and took me somewhere.
I found out later it was a barn.
They took me to a room of my very own
so the other animals wouldn’t bother me.
Then they made a charming kitty hotel with food, water, a litter box
and clean, dry, soft blankets just for me!
I was so happy that I wanted to cry.
But instead I purred and decided I must be in cat heaven.

Next they told Queen Elouise
they had a kitty she might like to meet and maybe keep!
They also told her
they already made an appointment with the cat doctor
who would give me a full checkup and shots.

I think Queen Elouise was a little nervous, because it was so sudden.
But  she came to meet me and, of course, decided to take me to her house.
I’ve been living there now for one year!

 It’s hard work training QE to think like a cat,
but she has a kind heart and loves me silly
even though she sometimes gets all exasperated with me.
Every now and then she laughs at me so hard
that tears stream down her face,
and she can barely catch her breath.
Sometimes I think she might pass out right on the spot!

Below is one of my long-hair rescuers.
She’s holding me the day I met Queen Elouise,
just two days after I got rescued.

You can see why I’m called Smudge.

QE named me Smudge.
Then everybody added on other bits to create my formal title:
Prince Oliver Smudge the Second!

Do you like before and after pictures?
I do!
Especially if they’re about me.

Smudge on 11 August 2013

Smudge on 29 Sept 2013

Out of time!
I hear Queen Elouise coming in the front door right now!
Maybe we can do this again sometime.

Yours very truly,
Smudge

***

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 1 September 2014
Photo credits:  MNFraser (11 Aug 2013 photos), DAFraser (all others)

baptismal waters

baptismal waters
rise gently enfolding her
world-weary body

* * * * *

I’m standing in a windowless, high-ceiling concrete room
with a concrete floor, drainage holes and air vents.
A deep whirlpool tub stands in the middle
filled with warm steamy water.
The room faintly resembles a large sauna minus the wood.
Functional, not beautiful.

Mother is in hospice care after suffering a stroke weeks ago
and then developing pneumonia in the hospital.
Her ability to communicate with words is almost nonexistent.
Today she’s going to be given a bath.
I’m told she loves this, and that
Sister #4 and I are welcome to witness the event.

For the past hour caregivers have been preparing her–
removing her bedclothes, easing her onto huge soft towels,
rolling and shifting her inch by inch onto a padded bath trolley,
doing all they can to minimize pain and honor her body.
Finally, they slowly roll the trolley down the hall.

The hospice sauna room echoes with the sound of
feet, soft voices, and running water.
It takes a team to carry out this comforting
though strange and even unnerving ritual.
Mother is safely secured to the padded bath table and
then lowered slowly into the water.
Her eyes are wide open.

For a few moments she fixes her eyes on mine.
The table  descends bit by bit.
How does she feel?
What is she thinking?
At  first her eyes seem anxious.
Is she afraid?
The warm waters rise around her and the table stops descending.
Her face relaxes and she closes her eyes.

The team works gently, thoroughly, not in haste.
They focus on her, talk to her and handle her body with reverence.
My eyes brim with tears.
This woman who bathed me, my three sisters
and most of her grandbabies is being given a bath
by what appears to be a team of angels in celestial garments.

They finish their work and roll Mother back to her room.
Her bed has clean sheets.
Fresh bedclothes have been laid out.
Caregivers anoint her body with oil and lotion, turn her gently,
and comment on how clear and beautiful her skin is.
They finish clothing her, adjust the pillows to cradle her body,
pull up light covers and leave her to fall asleep.

* * *

Last Sunday I witnessed the immersion baptism of seven young people at my home church.  I couldn’t help recalling this tender, even sacramental immersion just days before Mother’s death, and decided to share it with you.

Haiku written 3 June 2014
© Elouise Renich Fraser, 3 June 2014