thedamari

Two Thousand Miles – Mother’s Day Poem

Well, my two kids grew up, and I’m not sure why they did that to me. I still love them. Anyhow, here’s a little poem I wrote for Mother’s Day.

Two Thousand Miles

There was a child who used to cling to me
as if he were made of suction cups
Now he lives two thousand miles away

I inched away with stealth from the bed where
he slept to have a moment in my own skin
Now he lives two thousand miles away

I drove through the city in the dark more
than once to bring him home earlier than planned
Somehow now he’s two thousand miles away

I turned my head, and he inched with stealth
then leapt so far so fast to find his own skin
and landed two thousand miles away

I want him to be where I see him on my phone
the mountains, the beach, a life of his own
I pretend it’s not that far—two thousand miles away

Happy Mother’s Day to all the moms and mom figures, whether you are in the thick of child raising, empty nesting it or something else.

Not Cooperstown, but Just as Important

Kansas City Monarchs baseball uniform in display case

Friday, I fulfilled a bucket list item when my husband and I visited the Negro Leagues Baseball Museum in Kansas City. As anyone who knows about baseball and American history is aware, the major leagues were segregated until Jackie Robinson started at first base for the Brooklyn Dodgers in 1947. Visiting this museum, we learned a lot about how Black players persevered anyway, improving our society along the way.

The website explains: The Negro Leagues Baseball Museum is the world’s only museum dedicated to preserving and celebrating the rich history of African-American baseball and its impact on the social advancement of America. The privately funded, 501 c3, not-for-profit organization was established in 1990 and is in the heart of Kansas City, Missouri’s Historic 18th & Vine Jazz District. The NLBM operates two blocks from the Paseo YMCA where Andrew “Rube” Foster established the Negro National League in 1920.

Some of the greatest athletes the game has ever seen are featured–Satchel Paige, Josh Gibson, Jackie Robinson, and more. We encountered Buck O’Neil almost right away, scouting a game:

Statue of Buck O'Neil in a Monarchs uniform — Buck O’Neil scouting a game

A short film condensed the history of MLB segregation and integration, including the shameful treatment of Black players who originally joined some of the very first teams, before they were officially banned. One influential player in particular is now known not for his skill or achievements, but just for entrenching racism in the sport. I am deliberately not giving him fame among my handful of readers. But imagine — the players he kept out went on to shine and give us so much. While his legacy is for all the bad he accomplished.

Poster announcing "Championship Negro Baseball with Satchel Paige."

Statues of baseball players on replica ball field.

Standing among the greats

A couple of interesting tidbits I learned:
*The KC Monarchs were the first team to install lights and play games at night.
*Several of the teams traveled and played ball in Japan in the 1920s and 30s.
*And of particular interest for Women’s History Month, there were some women who played professionally.

Bust of baseball player Mamie Johnson in front of cutout image of her. — Mamie “Peanut” Johnson

Bust of baseball player Toni Stone in front of cutout image of her — Mamie “Peanut” Johnson

I found a couple of their autographs among the vast collection of signed baseballs.

6 autographed baseballs. One says Toni Stone, another Mamie Peanut Johnson.

I can’t help thinking how discrimination and segregation harm everyone on every side. When we exclude others for no good reason, we are not only hurting them, we’re depriving ourselves of their talents and contributions. It makes no sense, yet it’s done too often.

I highly recommend experiencing this bit of baseball history if you get the chance. The woman who sold us our tickets said the museum will be expanding and moving into a new building soon, so that’s me planning to return in the future.

On Today’s Walk: Bird Gossip

Today’s walk was an early evening affair for me. I came upon some sparrows, ensconced in what I’m sure they believed to be a private communications chamber. But they were spilling all their secrets to me.

https://www.youtube.com/shorts/FeXkK8HXHYM

Would they have been so chatty had they known a human was listening in?

Today’s New Thing

Though I haven’t posted about it as much as I intended, I’m still on a quest for new experiences. They can be big or small. The little ones quite often can be pretty darned fulfilling . It’s not necessary to travel great distances or spend a lot of money to discover more of the world. It’s all a matter of attention and attitude.

So today’s new to me experience was eating cranberry-apple jam from the farmers’ market. So tasty! And yes, I am acclimating to farmers’ market shopping. I still stay only a few minutes, making one or two purchases. But it’s opening up my life some more.

Despite all the troubles, there’s still a whole world of delights all around us, waiting to be noticed. It’s important not to lose sight of that.

What’s it Like in Cat Heaven?

For the first time in 22 years, my household is catless. For a period of years, we had three cats. But one by one, they have crossed the Rainbow Bridge. Puffies (or Puffaroo or Puffington or Puff Daddy or Puffing Thing, depending on the day) was our last feline standing.

He showed up on our porch nearly 12 years ago and communicated quite clearly, “I live here now.” The vet at that time estimated him to be 3 or 4 years old. So he was getting on in years lately. He and my husband had developed an old guy ritual of going out together in the mornings to watch the sunrise before coming back in for breakfast. I swear, they even started looking like each other.

Last week, out of the blue, our beloved kitty had a seizure. Then he stopped eating. After a trip to the vet ER, we learned he had a mass on his pancreas that was causing his blood glucose to bottom out. But we were able to take him home with some medicines that helped him perk up and enjoy some food for a couple of days before the pills stopped working.

His brain cells were scarce, but he was an exceptionally affectionate knucklehead and craved human companionship at all times. Over the weekend, we were able to make sure he spent very little time alone. The weather blessed us, and he got to spend a lot of time out in the back yard, lying in the grass, feeling the sunbeams and smelling the smells, while we hung out in camp chairs. When he was inside, I refrained from upsetting behaviors such as running the vacuum.

Monday, we had a vet come to the house and help Puffies the last bit of the way across the veil, before the pain became unbearable for him. It was about as good an ending as you could hope for, even if we would never be ready for it.

Now that all of our cats are gone, I find myself wondering what cat heaven might be like. There are no vacuum cleaners, for sure! Also no garbage disposals. I believe any door can be opened with a wishful thought, rather than a need for height and opposable thumbs. The food is always smell-rich, and humans never take away the bowl, saying you’ve had enough. Of course, it’s the correct food–human servants will never make a wrong selection. There are heating pads aplenty, all set at the perfect temperature for napping in the ever-present sunbeams. Oh, and boxes. So many boxes! This is what I like to imagine as I try to heal the cat-sized hole in my heart.

We are not ready to think about another pet. At all. So please don’t tell us about your cousin’s step-sister’s cat’s new litter of kittens. Though I am happy we took in every kitty we ever had, we just can’t go there again yet, or maybe ever. Time will tell.

On Today’s Walk: Snow Here and There and Here Again

Today’s walk about the neighborhood started out in fog–brain fog. It was pretty darned cold, but I couldn’t remember where I had stowed those nice new electric gloves. I vaguely recalled putting them “some place obvious” where “I’ll be sure to look.” At least I got a lot of indoor steps in my search, as well as finding a warm headband that’s been lost for a while.

I finally left wearing older, less thermal gloves. My hands did mostly okay. Once I had my focus on other things, of course, the memory of the “obvious location” snuck up on me and announced itself. I verified when I got home the new hand warmers were in fact in the carrying bag that came with them, hanging in my closet. I had even seen the bag, but we have dozens of reusable totes around. And I’ve had a lot on my mind, okay? Stop judging! LOL.

The only pics I got this afternoon were crap because it was pretty chilly to have my bare hands exposed. Here are a couple anyway, for documentation purposes.

Dirty ice/snow mix between street and brown grass.

Small piles of snow along the edge of the road.

We’ve had three significant snows since New Year’s Day, and there are still remnants here and there. From what I’m hearing, this might be my last walkabout for a few days. More you know what is on the way, accompanied by subzero temperatures. I don’t remember a winter this unrelenting in well over a decade.

But hey, I’m proud of myself for getting outdoors today anyway. And I’m grateful for the time and resources that have allowed me to stock up on provisions for weathering a week in New Siberia. For anyone else in the path of the coming system, take care, and know I’m wishing you well.

Maybe my next “On Today’s Walk” post will simply be images from different rooms in my house.

On Today’s Walk: Sanctuary

Stone sign: Bonnie View Nature Sanctuary

I know we’re all fighting a lot of fires right now, some not even metaphorical. But we also need some times of rest and sanctuary from the…waves hand vaguely.

I found it today at the Bonnie View Nature Sanctuary. Wouldn’t you like to experience a respite vicariously through my photos?

I saw a cool playground. Got to admit, I was tempted to do some climbing on these structures.

playground climbing structures made to look like tree branches

I saw several birds but got no photos of any of them. However, the Merlin app took a stab at identifying them by sound.

Three birds, Carolina wren, song sparrow, tufted titmouse — Screenshot

A crane your neck to see the top tall tree:

Large bare tree with a cloudy sky behind

Some really beautiful prairie grass, even if it is dormant season. The mix of hues and shapes is breathtaking if you take the time to really look. One view from across the way and one view from what it might look like for a tiny animal taking refuge in the brush. (I stuck my camera right in.)

mown brown grass foreground, behind that, tall prairie grasses and trees

And despite the fact that our last snow fell on *January 10*, a little bit of it remains here and there.

line of snow in brown grass next to a walking trail

If all of the…waves hand vaguely…has got you stressed and anxious, try to go out into nature and move around for a while if possible. When you come back, I almost guarantee you’ll be better able to deal with it.

Celebrating Black Authors

For decades, I’ve made it a point to read authors from a variety of backgrounds. As satisfying as it is to come upon a piece of writing that reflects my lived reality, my life is richer for also reading works by writers who have had different experiences. It helps me think more deeply, builds my capacity for empathy and gives me a more well-rounded worldview.

For Black History Month, I’m sharing a handful of memorable books I’ve read by Black authors.

Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston.

Published in 1937, this book by one of the prominent figures of the Harlem Renaissance is considered a classic for good reasons. Hurston’s Janie is one of the most fully realized characters I’ve seen in a book this length. Through her upbringing with her grandmother and multiple marriages, we see Janie struggling to free her real self from the confines of those who define the parameters of her life.

Hurston evokes so much through simple, every day scenes – a game of checkers, the buying of groceries. All of her characters are real and complex. No stock cut-outs here.

The Other Wes Moore by Wes Moore

Nonfiction, first published in 2010. The author Wes Moore – Rhodes Scholar, decorated veteran, TV host, eventual governor of Maryland, all-around accomplished guy. The other Wes Moore – serving a life sentence for the killing of a security guard during a jewelry store robbery.

Both are near the same age, and they lived within blocks of each other as children in Baltimore. Both grew up without fathers (the author’s father died from an illness at a young age, while the other’s father was simply absent). Both African American. Both had brushes with the law as kids.

But at some point, their paths diverged, and the author explores what factors might have made a difference. I appreciate his humility, as he expresses that their roles could easily have been reversed.

Beloved by Toni Morrison

Published in 1987. Winner of the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction.

The horrors of slavery are examined through the experiences of a Black mother in post-Civil War America. The baby girl who died many years before, buried in a grave marked with a stone bearing only the word “beloved” returns as a young adult ghost (or something) to Sethe’s life.

The opening lines let you know right off that this isn’t going to be a gentle book, but a powerful one:
“124 WAS SPITEFUL. Full of a baby’s venom. The women in the house knew it and so did the children.”

Harlem Shuffle by Colson Whitehead

This story drew me in. The main character, Ray Carney, is complex and relatable. I held my breath many times as he found himself more and more out of his depth, drawn into a web of crime he never intended. He has a weakness for trying to make his cousin (more like a brother) happy no matter what bad decisions the guy is making. Then there’s the constant struggle to keep his home life with the wife and kids he adores separate from the other part of his existence. Excellent world building immerses the reader right into 1950s-1960s Harlem.

Call Us What We Carry by Amanda Gorman

There’s a lot of depth in this poetry collection. I appreciate the way Gorman experiments with form. One poem I re-read a couple of times is titled “Pan.” …”Pandemic, meaning all people. / Pandemonium, meaning / all demon. / Pandora , / meaning all-gifted…”

And I’ll wrap it up with one of my all-time favorite books of poetry.

Life on Mars by Tracy K. Smith

This is another Pulitzer Prize winner. It combines many elements that have been integral to my life: poetry, science fiction and David Bowie. A couple of these poems punched me in the gut, while others had me simply nodding my head in recognition. Smith’s father was a scientist who worked on the Hubble Telescope, which helps explain where some of this came from. Get ready for some BIG questions when you open these pages.

Lines from her poem The Weather in Space:

“…When the storm

Kicks up and nothing is ours, we go chasing

After all we’re certain to lose, so alive—

Faces radiant with panic…”

Please feel free to add your own recommended titles in the comments. Read on!

Do One Thing: Farmers’ Market

Can a bag of onions make a meaningful difference in the world? I sure hope so!

I know many of us are searching for ways to make a positive impact right now in a time when a lot of things are going very wrong. While we might not experience many opportunities to take big actions, every one of us can do one thing. And those individual contributions add up.

I’ve come to believe community building needs to be an essential focus right now. One specific part of that is supporting local businesses and local agriculture. It’s becoming more vital every day to reinforce strong local food systems.

For a while, I had a subscription to an every-other-week produce box through a local store’s community supported agriculture program. But that was not working out for me logistically, so I cancelled a while back. My little city has a nice, largish, year-round farmer’s market, as well as some smaller seasonal ones. I kept telling myself I should hit them up for some of my food. But even thinking about it made my anxiety spike.

The big market, at least, is a perfect storm of social anxiety and sensory issues for me. I would have to deal with a lot of noise, bustle and crowds while trying to make decisions in a setting where I wasn’t sure of the rules or expectations. That’s every one of my buttons pushed, right there in one go.

But then I made a plan. A bite-sized plan. I could get myself used to farmers’ market shopping and learn the ropes by starting small. All I had to do was go in and buy one item, then leave. Still an improvement over no items from local farmers.

And I did it Saturday morning! I was a little overwhelmed, but I wore my Loop earplugs to minimize noise, looked around for one clearly marked item that I needed, found the onions, and paid. Then I went on to the usual grocery store for the rest of my shopping trip. It’s a start. I can keep taking more steps.

What if we all looked for one step each day or each week? How much difference could we make? Let’s try it and see! Let’s go!

Remembering Coretta Scott King

“What most did not understand then was that I was not only married to the man I loved, but I was also married to the movement that I loved.” – Coretta Scott King

On Martin Luther King, Jr. Day, I’d like to take a couple of minutes to think about the person who, perhaps more than any other, made sure the message and the work of social justice continued after his death. Coretta Scott King was married to Martin Luther King, Jr. for 15 years, a full partner in leading the movement for peace and equal rights.

For another 38 years after his death, she continued leading the charge not only in the U.S., but around the world. This is taken from The King Center website. That would be The King Center that Coretta Scott King founded.

“One of the most influential African-American leaders of her time, Mrs. King received honorary doctorates from over 60 colleges and universities; authored two books, edited a compilation of selected quotes by Dr. King, maintained a nationally-syndicated newspaper column, and served on and helped found dozens of organizations, including the Black Leadership Forum, the National Black Coalition for Voter Participation, and the Black Leadership Roundtable.

Mrs. King died on January 30, 2006. She was the first woman and the first African American to lay in honor in the rotunda of the Georgia capitol. Also, a few days after her death, thousands of people stood in line in the rain to pay their respects at a viewing in the heritage sanctuary of the historic Ebenezer Baptist Church in Atlanta.“

The Kings taught us a lot about the importance of unity, community, and standing together with the oppressed. I believe those principles are more important today than ever.