In Oregon, the year’s most reliably pleasant weather occurs during Indian Summer. Today, on the eve of my 70th birthday, I strolled along the waterfront of the Columbia. The prevailing westerlies have lost their enthusiasm. This morning, the river laid flat. Paddle boarders cruised the smooth surface under a cloudless blue sky. Elsewhere, the convergence … More Indian Summer
On Monday, July 25th, I circled the drain. Tuesday: I wondered, “Whose feet are these?” I stared at bloated flesh topped with stubby sausages for toes. Then, I fell in love with a girl named Maureen. No, that’s not right. Her name was Morphine. By Wednesday morning, we were going steady. Accomplises delivered her to my room. … More Pneumonia
I Am With You is the title of a book of cancer essays, edited by Nancy Novak and Barbara K. Richardson. The collected authors are all veterans of cancer. Most live with it directly, while a few caregivers found eloquence within their experience. The editors chose a version of one of my blog posts, Where … More I Am With You
It’s been years since I last ran. During those years when I was a runner, I never figured out what I was running from or chasing. Mostly, I think, I just wanted to be alone. Back then, I competed in many 10K races and collected a rainbow of colorful t-shirts. I also ran a few … More Walking the Waterfront
Recently, I attended a presentation titled, Multiple Myeloma, State of the Art. The Leukemia and Lymphoma Society hosted the speaker at its monthly MM support group meeting. I joined the group in 2009, a little over one year after being diagnosed with this blood cancer. It’s an active group with dozens of participants. Several are … More The University of Cancer, Part 2
Yesterday, I walked home from Ground. This coffee shop is located at the bottom of Oak Avenue in Hood River. My wife and I had joined her sister and our nephew for lunch. Three days of shoveling snow following an iconic late to the party winter storm made me hungry for conversation. The others had … More Common Ground
In December of 2002, an uninsured driver caused an accident that left my oldest son, Noah, paralyzed. He was 22. In the immediate aftermath, our grief knew no bounds. We searched for answers. But none existed. Our resolve hardened against the injury’s tyranny. We imagined fictitious recoveries. But these were just pantomimes of wishful thinking. … More Tender Mercies
In early October, morning frosts gave way to blue skies and warm days. Autumn breezes moved among the limbs of maple, oak, and birch trees and their leaves dried and curled and changed color but held their grip on the boughs and refused to fall. Aided by this good weather, the virus I’d picked up … More Meditation for a Friend
Here, in Oregon, at our new home in town, Mourning Doves have my attention. Their baritone voices resonate from perches in nearby trees and from the tops of phone poles along the street. These birds are wonderful fliers. They are fast, able to climb and dodge rapidly as they move from spot to spot announcing … More Mourning Doves
“You are the sky; everything else is just the weather.” Pema Chodron In late February, with the advent of spring, the prevailing path of storm fronts rotates from east to west. Temperatures rise. Precipitation presents itself as rain instead of snow. Depending on your disposition, Oregon’s default weather forecast is now either partly cloudy or … More Clouds
Good Blood, Bad Blood 