Category Archives: Remembering


April 20, 2014


Image Source: © 2013 TouTouke (Agnes Scholiers),

Poem #20: “Zoo”

Zookeeper’s fingers, relaxed


Leafy chameleon, sticky toes


Don’t be loud, touch


Note his eyes, orbit


Scaly thing, never misses

A fly

Spellbound children, eyes

Up high

On the mini-dinosaur’s

Gripping tail

In and around knotty branches

Going pale


We touched a snake, a chinchilla

Even a skink

But not the wolf spider—No way!

What do you think?


We washed off our hands and waited

In line

Ate our brown bag lunch in a sea

Of pine

The big yellow birds were waiting


Line up now children, let’s all say


Sam, 2004

A crowd gathers nightly
Watching their sun’s show

Applauding its brilliance
Lovers, strangers, children and sages are one

As the sun takes its bow
Curtains of sea and sky close the performance

Separating now into quiet darkness
They hold on to their sun’s beauty

Memorizing it with hope

Rebecca, my friend and confidant

Depression afflicts millions directly, and millions more who are relatives or friends of victims. It has been estimated that as many as one in ten Americans will suffer from the illness…which, in its graver, clinical manifestation takes upward of twenty percent of its victims by way of suicide.

– William Styron (1990), Darkness Visible: A Memoir of Madness

In memory

In memory of my longtime and loving friend, Rebecca Pratt (December 24, 1964 – January 28, 2013).


R was one of the wittiest, most intelligent, caring, and beautiful people I have had the privilege of knowing. She was my friend for almost three decades. She was my confidant and sometimes my therapist. She was an incredibly thoughtful card sender. She loved searching for and sending the perfect card in which she’d write, or quote, the perfect words. And her timing was perfect. If I mentioned to her that I had finished a writing piece and felt good about it, lo and behold, a one-of-a-kind congratulatory card would show up in my mailbox 48 hours later. Continue reading

Dad, I miss you


Dad (9/1/35-1/9/08) and me

“Hi Dad, it’s me.”

“Hi Dee. Heidi!” (laughing) “Hey, Heidi!”

(smirking) “Hi, Dad.”

“Is this the person with whom I am speaking?”

“Yes, Dad.” (laughing) “This is the person with whom you are speaking.”

(laughing) “How are you, Deanna Lynn?”

“I’m okay, Dad. I wanted to pick up the phone and call you today. There are lots of times when I want to call you, and then I have to remind myself…
(that you are gone) and have the conversation in my head. Continue reading

With time, and lemons, we learn to change

Everything must change
Nothing stays the same
Everyone must change
Nothing stays the same

The young become the old
Mysteries do unfold
‘Cause that’s the way of time
Nothing and no one goes unchanged

There are not many things in life
You can be sure of
Except rain comes from the clouds
And sun lights up the sky
And hummingbirds do fly…

– Bernard Ighner, singer-songwriter-arranger-producer-multi instrumentalist


Einstein said “the only reason for time is so that everything doesn’t happen at once.” But on the day of my son’s sudden death everything did happen at once. Time stopped and our world collapsed. My son was gone and so I needed to go too. I lay down beside him, his sleeping body, closed my eyes, disappeared into oblivion, and slept. Time turned its face, wringed its hands and waited while we slept. But eventually, governed by deadlines, time turned back and muttered at me, “It’s time to go,” then reset itself, whirled around and went on without me. I knew then that I was dead but left among the living. Continue reading