For

For every peak you conquer
There must be a valley
For every bridge you cross
There must be a chasm
For every notable accomplishment
There must be trials and tribulations
For memorable moment
There must be boredom and inactivity
Without one
The other has no meaning
Without the other
The one would have no meaning
To truly walk as one with light
You must experience darkness
To once again
Soar with the angels
One must trod
The dusty roads of earth

I Miss

I miss the innocence of my youth, when the world was still a magical place, which filled the heart of this child with wonder.

I miss midnight mass on Christmas Eve. The church filled with smiling faces, carols sung off key but with great gusto and a story that was accepted by a young boy whose faith was still strong. I miss laying bed straining my ears hoping to hear the sound of sleigh bells dreaming of the north pole as I drifted off to sleep. I miss waking up Christmas morning and seeing the tree glow with the magic of the holiday, the floor covered with presents while I slept. I miss discovering an overflowing stocking hung from the fireplace with fruits and nuts cascading onto the floor. I miss the holiday air that was heavy with the smell of homemade cinnamon rolls, hot chocolate and the beginnings of a Christmas feast.

I miss the Disneyland I knew as a youth before I understood how the rides were created. When It's a Small World was not an annoying song but a magical journey around the world. I miss how the eyes of my younger self never noticed the strings or the cracks or the fading paint. When upon entering the world of Peter Pan I could actually believe I was soaring over the rooftops of London with Peter and Jane. When exploring Tom Sawyers Island meant I could lose myself in the stories of Tom, Huck and Becky. I miss riding the Adventures of Snow White and clinging to my mother because I was afraid the evil witch was going to snatch me from the car. Most of all I miss seeing the park through the eyes of innocence and not the cynical eyes I possess today.

I miss the awe I felt watching the Wizard of Oz once a year on network television. How we would plan the whole weekend around Sunday night. I miss losing myself in Oz, running down the yellow brick road with Dorothy and Toto, the Tinman, the Scarecrow and the Cowardly Lion. I miss magic a movie like the Wizard of Oz could create. Videotapes and DVD's have removed some of the awe from moviemaking.

I miss the days when baseball cards were just cards to be traded and stuck between the spokes of our bicycles. When major leaguers took the time after every game to sign autographs for their youngest fans. Before collectors and speculators ruined that moment for the youth of today. I miss being able to recite the entire major league roster for the Dodger's, today with free agency and a win now attitude the players turn over so quickly no one stays around long enough to become a fan favorite.

I miss the first times most of all. The first time I read the Outsider's and how in one brief moment of enlightenment I saw how characters from a book could capture you heart, mind and soul. I remember the tears streaming down my face when Johnny died. Since that time I have read my old beat up copy of the Outsiders at least a hundred times. Each reading brings about different thoughts and emotions but no matter how many times I have read it nothing can replicate the joy of the first time.

I do miss the innocence of my youth but as I look around at my life today there is still magic and wonder around every corner. All it takes is a little pixie dust and the ability to put away my grown up cynicism and look at the world through the eyes of my inner child.

Mom-Date II

My mom had her PET scan and MRI performed yesterday. The results were better than expected under the circumstances. At this point it appears that the cancer has yet to manifest itself anywhere but in the skeletal structure. All of her organs appear to be clean which goes far to improving her long term prognosis.

Next on the agenda will be a bone biopsy to be performed next Wednsday. The delay is necessary because she needs to come off of her blood thinners so the biopsy will not lead to any complications.

Vermont

If the best of all worlds were possible I would be typing this in a converted barn on a small farm in Vermont.

My farm would be located at the end of a tree lined country road, just beyond a one hundred year old wooden covered bridge.

The land around the farm is primarily occupied by apple groves and surrounded by a low-lying ridge covered by maple groves.

An old ratty scarecrow protects a fallow field of corn and a patch of pumpkins, who lay dreaming Halloween dreams and awaiting the onslaught of town kids desperately searching for the perfect Jack-O-Lantern.

I would often find my senses overwhelmed by the smell of autumn, the ever-changing color of the leaves and the taste of fall in the air.

In the rafters of the old red barn lives a gray owl, he earns his keep hunting mice and whose eerie voice haunts the night sky. A fox family has a den somewhere in the north field and an old tomcat lives beneath the steps.

A woodpile stands at the ready beside the house, ready to provide warmth and comfort through out those long winter nights. When the stars have disappeared and first snowfall is just beyond the horizon.

A cracked and faded wooden swing hangs from the eaves above the front porch, where the chimes loudly singing announcing the coming storm.

In the living room is a hundred year old fireplace built from river stones. If I listen closely I can still hear the river sharing tales of its journey from the mountains on the way to the sea.

The kitchen has a big old Franklin Stove; smoke stained but still serviceable after all of these years. There are lots of nooks and crannies filled with knick-knacks and memorabilia. A wooden counter is located beneath the picture window embracing the view of my favorite brook.

At the top of the stairs are two bedrooms with matching four post beds, covered by homemade quilts and pillows filled with real goose feathers. Just right for supporting my weary head after a long days work.

The furnace has seen a lot of years; its pipes provide a symphony of hisses and sighs. That when I close my eyes carry me off to dreamland almost as well as my mother's lullabies did so many years ago.

In the morning, the rooster's crow announcing the arrival of the sun awakens me. I stretch under the quilt and wiggle my toasty toes. I open the window and find the air to be crisp and the breeze clean. Before I know it I begin to feel human once again.

The Grass is Rarely Greener

Once many years ago she had found herself warm and safe in the arms of love. Her life was like a romance novel. Her friends found the whole thing sickening. All she ever talked about was him.

How handsome he was.
How romantic he was.
How much she loved him.
How no man could ever replace him in her heart.

That is until one day she stumbled across an irritating little thing called doubt.

She was at the gym on a stair master climbing what felt like the foothills of Everest. She turned to her left and saw him.

He was not handsomer than her husband.

There was though something about him, something she could not quite put her finger on. She pretended to ignore him but she studied him out of the corner of her eye.

She watched him climb. Lost in a musical world being pumped in to his head by his walkman. There was just a glimmer of a smile on his lips and a bit of mischief in his eyes. She glanced down at the floor and when she turned back to him he was gone.

At home that evening she found herself tossing and turning unable to escape into sleep. She watched her husband sleep and tried to understand how a stranger on a stair climber could plant a seed of doubt into an otherwise perfect marriage.

The next day she returned to the gym with a bit of a bounce in her step. She found herself anticipating his arrival and wondering if she would have the nerve to say hello.

She was disappointed to find that he was not anywhere in the gym. She waited long past her normal quitting time but he never showed. After showering she headed next door to Starbucks to drown her disappointment in a double latte.

Lost in a daydream she almost missed his request. He asked to sit with her and she said yes with a trembling lilt to her voice.

It seemed from the first moment like that their meeting had been preordained by the gods. They laughed and talked for hours and without second guessing herself she soon found herself lost in his arms behind the doors of room thirteen at the local no tell motel.

She expected that when she drove away she would feel guilty about what she had done but surprisingly guilt never entered the picture.

He was everything her husband wasn't.

Where her husband was cautious he threw caution to the wind.
Where her husband was gentle he was passionate.
Where her husband was predictable he lived life by the moment.
Where her husband was careful there was a sense of danger about him.
Where her husband was a minivan he was a Ferrari.

Before long he asked her to leave her husband and live with him.

Without thought for her future she gave up her past and joined him in the present.

From a divorce that left a small but ignored voice whispering why in the back of her mind. She found herself in Vegas for a quick wedding and a new life.

Every moment was a moment from a fairy tale at least at first but she soon learned what was meant by the words: "The grass is not always greener on the other side of the fence."

Where her ex was steady her new husband jumped from career to career.
Where her ex was tender her new husband was rough.
Where her ex was reliable her new husband was always disappearing.
Where her ex was generous to a fault her new husband was a penny pincher and greedy to boot.
Where her ex loved her unconditionally her new husband was soon fooling around.

She wanted to leave but she had nowhere to go. No family and friends that had warned her that her new husband was too good to be true.

One night she drove by her old house intending to apologize to her ex for her stupidity. Who knows she thought maybe we could start again.

Her dreams were shattered when she saw him walking out of their house with a new woman who was obviously his wife and who was obviously carrying his child. He had a smile on his face and eyes only for his new bride.

As they drove away in their minivan she saw that someone else was living the life she could have had if she had only had faith in his love for her. If she had only seen that steady and patient were important qualities in a husband.

She watched until her ex and his new life disappeared into the glare of the setting sun. Never noticing the tears that fell like rain onto the silk of her new blouse.

Mom-Date

I will be posting periodic "mom-dates" to keep those concerned up to date on my mother's battle with cancer.

Today she received some good news and some bad news.

The bad news first: initial reports were that the bone cancer was in three spots, the hip, the lower spine and the skull. After consulting with the oncologist it appears that over 90% of her skeletal structure is affected by the cancer. With the cancer being so widespread it limits the use of radiation as a treatment until some later date.

The good news: though the cancer has spread through out the skeletal structure the oncologist is cautiously optimistic that it has not spread to any vital organs. Based on my mother's history he believes that the cancer is slow growing.

On Monday she will have a PET scan and an MRI. The oncologist will use the results of these two tests to determine the best location for a biopsy scheduled for Thursday. If it has not spread beyond the bone he will take a sample from on of the more afflicted areas of the skeletal structure. If other organs are involved he will take the biopsy from one them.

Her long-term prognosis depends a lot on the location. If the cancer is limited to the bones he believes that her chances are good for a minimum of five years with the current treatments that are available. If the cancer has spread beyond the bone than a lot will depend on where it is located and how much of the organ is involved.

Prophet

Bittersweet is the path of a prophet
A trail of tears
Dampens the dusty footprints
Left in their wake

Lonely is the path of a prophet
Many disciples
Without the discipline
Of true believers

Scorn paves the path of a prophet
Taunting voices
Empty hearts
Echo in their souls

Temptation lies upon the path of a prophet
Disregard belief
Embrace instant gratification
Forgo the heavenly reward

Difficult is the path of a prophet
Many obstacles
Darken the road
Distractions from embedded truths

Doubt clouds the path of a prophet
Who, what
Where and why
Lost in the mist of faith

Tender is the path of a prophet
Gentle hands
Cleanse dusty feet
Of original sin

Short is the path of the prophet
Crowds turn
Throwing stones
Passing judgment on us all