Tag Archives: Gratitude

For My Daughter

Carol A. Hand

I feel your concern as I walk slowly now
trudging up and down hills or on icy sidewalks
following behind as you lead the way
heading toward a future that is yours alone
I need to travel at my own pace – sure-footed
to avoid adding to the burdens I know you carry

*

Loving you means trusting life and letting you go onward
accepting the limitations of a frail aging frame with grace
watching you with love, compassion, joy, and heavy sadness
remembering conundral choices that I suspect hurt you
hoping one day you will understand that loving you deeply
gave me courage to face daunting challenges to keep you safe

*

My daughter, Turns Falls, Massachusetts, 1975

***

Yesterday, March 5th, was my granddaughter’s twelfth birthday. We had a lovely family celebration. But it’s a date that always makes me feel both deeply grateful, and deeply guilty.

I was traveling when I learned that my daughter was in the hospital giving birth to her daughter prematurely. In the midst of a powerful late winter snowstorm, the airports were closed in both of the cities where my daughter and I were. Renting a car to drive hundreds of miles through the storm wasn’t an option. There was no way I could be there. I could only fly home to a distant state the next day while the storm continued to batter the city where my daughter was.

When the airport reopened on the third day, I was faced with a conundrum. I was carrying heavy responsibilities for gifted, at-risk graduate students in a university that was unsupportive of those who were different in some way. If I left again to be with my daughter, it was likely their graduation would, at best, be delayed. I decided to send my partner, my daughter’s stepfather for most of her life, to be there instead. It was several months before I held my granddaughter for the first time.

All of the students I was advising graduated, many passing their final requirements with distinction, and they went on to careers helping vulnerable people. Yet, I know my daughter was deeply hurt. I will always wonder if I made the “right” choice, just as I will always remember that her birth was the greatest gift in my life.

A Snowy Birthday – 2019

Carol A. Hand

The super moon brightened the sky
on the night before my birthday
despite increasing cumulus clouds
promising another imminent storm

*

February 19, 2019

*

The snowiest February on record
was older than me on my birthday
yet the sight on the morning after
brought this year close to a tie

*

February 21, 2019

*

It seems all I’ve done is shovel snow,
grade student papers, and prepare classes
My yak trax are wearing thin with use
and my little car, White Pony,
is surrounded by growing piles of snow

*

February 23, 2019

*

Given the weather forecast for this week
we’re likely to set a new record
Ah, my aching back and shoulders
make me hope the meteorologists are wrong…

*

Yet I am grateful for so many things
The chance to work with colleagues
who genuinely care about students and teaching
The opportunity to work with students
who are eager to learn and think critically
Virtual friends whose creativity, passion, and kindness
bring blessings of beauty, laughter, and new knowledge
A long life that has brought me to an old house
in the northlands where I can marvel
at the beauty of tiny crystals and wonder
how many billions it takes to blanket the earth
for hundreds of square miles under three feet of snow
And the health and strength to shovel
and shovel
and shovel
wondering
if spring
will
ever
come
again

 

PS – If you’re curious to know how my car got the name “White Pony,” here are some links to older posts that tell pieces of the story:

https://voices-from-the-margins.blog/2015/01/01/reflections-on-winters-past/

https://voices-from-the-margins.blog/2015/07/25/la-joie-de-la-vie/

Reflections about Aging

Carol A. Hand

Soon I will greet
my second septuagenarian birthday
I never envisioned living this long
*
As I look back I realize
there is one piece of advice
I wish to share with those who are younger –
Take care of your physical body
It may last far longer than you imagine
*
I look at my sagging skin suit, chuckling
It has had to stretch and shrink
more times than I can remember
and despite the claims of clothing manufacturers,
one size never really fits everyone (anyone?) well

*

Me early in my journey

*

Now my skin suit is a bit too big
Perhaps that’s a blessing
the bones that support me
are lighter, more porous and fragile
making flights of imagination and fantasy easier
*
Still, this body serves me well
reminding me to exercise mindful discipline
and move with a greater sense of purpose
humbly, gratefully, and compassionately

*

my daughter’s most recent birthday – October 18, 2018

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January Ramblings – 2019

Carol A. Hand

Sometimes my creative muse moves to the background

in order to free-up space for the critical analytical realist

making it hard to focus on beauty and hope

as awareness of the suffering of the world takes center stage

This time, the transition has been almost more than I could bear

bringing to mind other times in my younger years

when pursuing new possibilities and starting over felt possible

***

I remember the lessons my mother taught me through example:

Reflections about Time (January 9, 2019)

These days, past, present and future

seem to flow seamlessly together

in dreams and waking hours

highlighting how past actions

have contributed to precious gifts

I never could have predicted

*

My mother meeting her great grandson for the first time – March, 1999

 

Unbeknowst to me, my mother’s example

taught me a powerful coping strategy

for surviving times of adversity

that continues to serve me well

It helps to focus intensely on creating

something kind, healing, and hopeful . . .

*

My grandson’s 20th birthday – January 10, 2019

***

I remember setting off on a journey for the sake of my daughter:

I Remember … 11/10/2014

I remember other storms approaching – the wind silent but the air filled with the electricity of threat and possibility. I survived. But have I worn the grooves of hope and love deeply enough into my spirit to weather the storms that I know are coming? As I sat on my doorstep watching the first of the snowflakes begin to fall in the darkened landscape, I wondered what the winter of these times will bring. I can feel the beat of my heart quicken with a mixture of fear and exhilaration.

*

Duluth Morning – November 10, 2014

*

My thoughts are transported back to an earlier time, the first warning of storms to come. I was standing in the Connecticut cottage where I lived with my infant daughter looking out of the picture window toward the trees and down at the river that flowed past the front of the cabin. Then, as today, the air was filled with the electricity of an approaching storm. Yet in the past, I awoke from a dream remembering some of the images and insights of a guide who sometimes speaks to me through dreams. “A storm is coming,” the guide said.

“Times ahead will be hard. The earth has shifted on its axis and the polarities of the earth’s gravitational fields are changing. People will not know they are being affected by these shifts, but polarities will be amplified. Those on a path of light will glow brighter while those on a path of darkness will grow stronger in their quest for control and destruction. You have a choice. You may leave now. You don’t have to stay to face the storm.”

How could I leave an infant to face the coming storms without a mother who loved her? I certainly wasn’t a perfect mother, but I loved my daughter enough to choose to seek the light again and again. I would fail again and again, but decades later, I know I did the best I could. I’m not a perfect grandmother either, and I’m unsure what I can do to help my daughter and grandchildren prepare for the coming storms, but I trust that whatever comes, love for others and for this wondrous and beautiful world and universe are what will matter most in the years ahead.

***

Now, I feel compelled to face the reality that there are difficult times ahead. During the weeks it took me to reconfigure the research course I have been teaching from a one- semester course to a two-semester course, I remembered my mother’s example and the message in the dream I had when my daughter was a baby. I kept working despite deepening alarm about the state of the world.

As I reviewed videos to rebuild the online content for the 50/50 face-to-face and online hybrid course, I found myself wishing I could set off as I did decades ago to find a safe space for my family. To find a community of thoughtful people working together to build an inclusive community like the ones I romantically imagine my Ojibwe ancestors created.

Reviewing videos that I used to think of as anomalous examples of the cruelty some humans express, The Deadly Deception and The Stanford Prison Experiment, only brought to mind the brutality of our current treatment of migrants, refugees, and asylum-seekers.

Ripping children away from their families and placing them in prison-like institutions while adults were placed in tent cities or abandoned warehouses that are reminiscent of concentration camps. I felt and feel powerless to change such obvious evil. This brutality and the inaction of those who see themselves as enlightened “leaders” cause me to wonder if the dream I had might, in fact, be true.

Several of the other videos I reviewed added to my realization that disregard for life has been and is still inextricably built into the predominant values and institutions in many nations. If you have the courage and stomach, here are links to a couple reminders that presage even harder times to come for people and the earth.

Poisoned Water:

https://www.pbs.org/video/poisoned-water-jhhegn/

Cancer Alley, Louisiana – Victims of Environmental Racism:

***

But the cruelty and disregard for life are nothing new and they’re not confined to one nation, religion, or culture. Still, looking at the super moon a couple days ago helped me find the strength to continue this sometimes heavy and lonely journey.

*

Super Moon – January 20, 2019

*

In the Depths of Winter (January 21, 2019)

In the depths of winter on a cold dark night

the super blood wolf moon is a welcome sight

a reminder of blessings beneath her comforting light

 

She reflects the sun for all whether they see her or not

inspiring me to repeat a Reiki prayer

“Just for today –

“I will refrain from anger
“I will not worry
“I will be grateful
“I will do my work diligently
“I will be kind to myself and others”

realizing the best I can do is to try to be conscious

and disciplined enough to make these choices

moment to moment…

***

Speaking of choices, I do find reasons for lighthearted laughter as I join Richard Simmons and the Silver Foxes every day.  I hope some of you will join me and remember to find reasons and time to laugh and to play even in the darkest of moments.

*

Blowing bubbles – 2002

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January Reflections – 2019

Carol A. Hand

Ah, here we are in the depths of winter

surrounded by a sea of snow and ice

***

***

Taking my dog for neighborhood walks in not an option now

although he misses them and exploring would be nice

Still, he often has a chance to go outside

Gingerly traversing perilous paths

I watch him slip and slide

on sidewalks that just freeze over once again

despite hours of chipping ice and shoveling snow

***

***

Balancing is a necessary skill in times like these

Gray skies and bleak news day after day

take their toll on hope for a kinder, peaceful future

*

Yet my old cracked sorel boots augmented by yak trax

help give me footing in slippery times

***

***

while moments of beauty and classes to prepare

help remind me why it’s even more important

to continue caring and creating anyway

***

*

*

Wishing you all steady footing and creative focus

during challenging times…

*

 

 

2018 Goodbyes

Carol A. Hand

There are times when I just cannot write from the heart. I need to take a break and focus on physical or analytical tasks that help me find emotional detachment and balance. It’s one of the major reasons I have not posted or visited blogs during the holidays.

***

I took this photo in the morning
before I learned that a dear friend died

*

November 28, 2018

*

It portrays what days of loss
sometimes feel like to me
My grandson’s other grandmother died
just before Christmas, and this morning,
my granddaughter’s father passed away
2018 was a year of so many losses and changes
It’s the third year I have faced my own mortality
Despite a heavy heart, though,
I still awake each morning
knowing that what I do for others now
in the time I have left matters even more

 

I have snowy sidewalks to shovel
in the north country I love

*

December 31, 2018

*

There are courses to plan for students
I will learn to care about this year,
and dear family to care for while I’m here

*

My daughter’s birthday dinner, October 18, 2018

*

Despite losses I will continue to rise and greet each day
to do what I can to stay healthy and balanced,
to contribute to the light in simple humble ways
and to remain grateful for the wonder and blessings of life

***

Please know that I am grateful to all of you for being part of my life, too. I send my best wishes to all. May you have a peaceful and wonder-filled new year.

December Reflections – 2018

Carol A. Hand

Reasons To Be Thankful – I

Pinto’s pre-adoption photo (He’s a Papillon-Chihuahua Mix, or “Chion”)

*

I know I’m not what you were looking for
to ease the loneliness and sadness of loss
I’m too little and the wrong gender
but I really am meant to be your friend
I promise to make you laugh
and touch your heart with my cuteness

I’ll raise my head in song

*

*

and trot down the sidewalk
with my waving tail held high

I’ll lick your feet
even though you don’t like it
just to remind you I care

Please be kind and take me with you
to a new forever home
I promise you that you won’t regret it

*

Ready to go for a walk on a cold rainy day – October 7, 2018

*

I know you love me but, oh, the indignity
of this cobbled-together winter suit you make me wear.

***

Reasons To Be Thankful – II

Endings are often exciting new beginnings. So it was last evening as my colleague and I listened to the students we have been working with during the past semester share their final research and community practice presentations.

This past semester, we focused on the connections between access to clean water and community health. The assignments involved exploring prior research, proposing and conducting a small study, and planning a community event to raise awareness about issues surrounding their community’s drinking water and waterways.

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Lake Superior, the source of drinking water for many surrounding communities – June 17, 2017

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Although final classes often mean saying goodbye to people one has learned to care about, there is also a sense of gratitude for the chance to encourage others to celebrate the wonders of life. Learning how to “do research” can help us remember the wonder and curiosity we felt about life and the world around us as children.

There is no way of predicting what the future effects of these lessons will be, but my colleague and I have done what we can to open hearts and minds to possibilities.

“I didn’t realize how much I learned until I looked back at where I started.”

“I never thought about the importance of water before.”

“Doing this study helped me learn so much more about the issues in my community.”

We ended our final class by sharing part of the Haudenosaunee Thanksgiving Address:

“We give thanks to all of the waters of the world for quenching our thirst, for providing strength and nurturing life for all beings. We know its power in many forms – waterfalls and rain, mists and streams, rivers and oceans, snow and ice. We are grateful that the waters are still here meeting their responsibility to the rest of Creation. Can we agree that water is important in our lives and bring our minds together as one to send greetings and thanks to the Water? Now our minds are one.” (as cited in Kimmerer, 2013, p. 108).

I am truly grateful for the opportunity to teach in partnership with a dear colleague who has worked hard to create a liberatory space and to our students who give me hope for the future.

“In the end, we will conserve only what we love; we will love only what we understand and we will understand only what we are taught” (Baba Dioum)

Some links to explore for more information about the  Haudenosaunee Thanksgiving Address:

Source Cited:

Robin Wall Kimmerer (2013). Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous wisdom, scientific knowledge, and the teachings of plants. Minneapolis, MN: Milkweed Editions.

Morning Greeting – October 10, 2018

Carol A. Hand

Greeting a blustery morning
through rain-dusted lenses
witnessing and listening to the storm
blaring sirens barely audible
above the sound of roaring wind
Trees twisting, bending, and bowing
in the fierce gusty northeast blow
still-green leaves covering the earth
ripped prematurely from their branches
a blessings perhaps given the coming snow

*

Stormy Morning – October 10, 2018

*

Sending healing purple light
to my relatives, the trees
the cottonwoods, willows, and maples
the spruces, birch, and aspens
the crabapple and mountain ash
heavily laden with ripening fruit
may they all survive this and coming storms
until their life’s purpose is complete

*

Heavy-Laden Crabapple Tree – October 10, 2018

*

Grateful for a simple little house
that stood through the stormy night
an often taken-for-granted luxury
in a world where so many are without
safety, sustenance, or shelter
Reconfirming my intention
to remember moment to moment
to live with wisdom, compassion, and joy
despite the storms along the way

*