A Grandfather, Pouring It On

At a casual restaurant in Ojai, California tonight, a doting grandfather missed not a moment to be fully, totally immersed in his grandson’s life. For the hour that I watched him, the conversation never faltered, never lagged. A surgeon’s scalpel could not have been more precise, as he excavated his grandson’s thoughts and hopes. Near the end of the meal, the grandson left his seat to sit next to his grandfather, to share calendars together. They had big plans. With more than a touch of envy, I wondered at my own ability to follow in this grandfather’s steps, sharing life’s secrets, dreams and mysteries with my own grandchildren. Total engagement is a powerful gift.

Support

I don’t know if the phrase “a life well-lived” is in your vocabulary yet, but I suspect at some point that thought enters us all. A young tabebuia tree stands at the edge of our patio. Without yet possessing a strong trunk, she relies upon the two poles beside her to support her until she gets stronger. The two poles are the trunks of two other once-living trees, now being used to train and bear up a new generation of trees. Perhaps, like these trees, our well-lived lives will strengthen others who will follow.

Yuma Building

“Constructed in 1882, the historic Yuma Building in the Gaslamp District was one of downtown’s first brick structures, and was built by Captain Wilcox who arrived in 1849 at the helm of the U.S. Invincible. The ship brought the engineering crew that attempted to turn the San Diego River into False Bay, now known as Mission Bay. The building is called The Yuma because of Captain Wilcox’s business connections in the Arizona town. Later used as a hotel, this structure was frequented by Wyatt Earp (folk hero of the American Wild West) and has the distinction of being the first to be closed during the clean-up of the red-light district.” San Diego, CA

To Honor a Mosquito Hawk

Fallen mosquito hawk,
Brave you were,
Bent upon your mission
To fulfill your full two-day lifespan:
You hoped to mate and then to die.
Today you fulfilled only the latter half of your purpose
When you crash-dived into a standing bowl of water
In the kitchen sink.
How unforgivable of me!
Had I noticed, I would have plucked you free
And laid you upon my pillow for your hoped-for restoration
Blow-drying your wings within a hair of toasting your fairy-like body.
Instead, I processed your fragile body down the garbage disposal.
In death, you join your brother mosquito hawk,
Who just yesterday became entangled in my freshly washed hair.
Unintentionally dismembered,
His disassembled body parts circled down my shower drain.
I like you guys because you are slow enough to catch.
You tickle my loosely cupped hands.
On a better day, I will snatch and rescue your nephews and nieces
When they stray into my house,
And I will remember you.