The truth of the matter is . . .: May 2021

Saturday, May 29, 2021

Memorial Day commemorates the men and women who died while serving in the United States Armed Forces. As one journey ended, a new one began for these heroes.

The light at the end of the tunnel remained bright, as they went on their . . .

Journey To Forever

“Missed But Not Forgotten”

Clouds decorated

the spring sky,

heroes’ minds cluttered

with thoughts

of the past,

but they didn’t

know why.

Being careful

not to slip

on the smooth pavement

beneath their feet,

they marched

with caution

on a mysterious trip.

A trip to somewhere

they didn’t know,

where they might

find their way—

a place

they knew

they had to go.

Pushed along

by an inner drive,

they focused

on a bright future,

one where dreams

come true,

and they could thrive.

All those around them

seemed to glow,

faces smiling,

as they

beckened them

to move

with the flow.

Their minds,

in a confused state,

but open

to entering

the future

to discover

their fate.

The wind

carried them along.

As they glided,

they listened

to angels above

singing a melody—

a beautiful song.

One journey ended,

another started,

one where they would

be remembered—

heroes, forevermore,

as they entered the land

of the dearly departed.

Thursday, May 27, 2021

Abby's Last Picture

Loss comes in many forms. When you lose a cherished pet, it can be hard to deal with.

The passing of our beloved, black schnoodle, our longest living dog, saddened us. So we decided to write a letter to . . .

Dear Abby

May 25, 2021, is a day we will never forget—the day you chose to reunite

with your forever sister, Jazzi—a time we shed tears.

We were blessed to have had you in our lives, to have cared for you, talked

to you, and walked with you for over fifteen years.

Although it was your time to go, and we knew it was coming, we still were

not ready.

You went peacefully in a warm and tranquil, open garden room at the vet,

with a slight breeze blowing steady.

As I lament your loss, I think of the first time I held you in my arms

and looked into your gorgeous eyes.

I knew, at that very moment, you would become a loving member of

our family—a choice so wise.

We cherished you in a way you could not have imagined and thanked God

for the gift He brought into our lives—one that was just right.

You were beautiful, intelligent, and affectionate and blended into our home—

an absolute delight.

When we reflect on the many talents you had, we remember how you

would dissect a stuffed toy and take the squeaker out.

We thought you would go off to college some day and become a

heart surgeon, as you seemed to know what removing a “heart”

was all about.

You were a doggie Houdini, who could get through any gate, jump a

three-foot wall, or show up, when least expected, out of nowhere.

And you were Jazzi’s second in command, obeying her orders and alerting her

to bark when a golf cart or bicycle would appear.

The last three weeks before you went to heaven, you traveled in your

Cadillac stroller, as I pushed it, and your new sister, Izzy, walked

by your side.

You had a long, full life, and we are very happy we had the opportunity,

as your “Mom and Dad,” to go along for the ride.

Always in our hearts,

Mom and Dad

Tuesday, May 18, 2021

Throughout life, I wondered, If I went in one direction rather than another, whether or not my life would change for the better.

I was driven by these thoughts, and began to believe in . . .

The Magic Of “IF . . .”

From the time I was a small child, the word “IF” played a significant role

in my life and how I spent each day.

If I could, if I would, and if I should flooded my mind, as I made my

daily decisions about how to act and play.

My dreams and plans flowed after the magic word in such statements

as, “If I could be a professional ballplayer, my world would be great.”

Or, “If the pretty girl in my seventh grade class would acknowledge

my existence, I would have the guts to ask her out on a date.”

As a senior in high school, I seemed to bump into “IF” at every turn,

from “If I should go away to college” to “If my choice of Psychology

as a major was right.”

If I could see the future challenged my heart and mind, and I wished

I could look into a crystal ball to see the success I might become,

a true delight.

When I reached adulthood, I experienced the ups and downs that come

with finding a job, being successful, and taking a wife.

At times, navigating this road proved to be difficult, and I contemplated,

If I could travel back in time might I be able to undo my mistakes

and improve my life?

In today’s technological world, with Siri, Alexa, Echo and other smart

speakers to assist us, I wonder if humans might someday become

obsolete?

I hope not, but if I had a robot who knew everything, I would ask it how I

could help people to be more accepting of one another, which would be

a welcome treat.

I have often asked myself, “If I had all the money in the world would my life

be any different than it is now?”

My answer, an emphatic yes, for I would share my wealth and good fortune

with those in need, this I vow.

If I believed anything was possible, I would jump each of life’s hurdles

with confidence and dignity.

And because I do, I have worked hard to achieve the goals I set

to become the man I wanted to be.

In my golden years, my desire is to be a writer and poet who blends words

to create great stories and poems, and to do this I strive.

And through my inspiration, imagination, and passion, my poetry and prose

make The Magic Of “IF . . .” come alive.

Sunday, May 16, 2021

For over a year, the Rotary Club of Lincoln, California, has met through Zoom. While this has kept the club alive, it was not the same as holding in-person meetings.

Our club continued serving our community and beyond during these hard times. However, we looked forward to . . .

Returning To The House On 5^th and E

It’s May 6, 2021, the time almost 12:00 noon, and down Lincoln Boulevard I drive.

Turning right on 5^th Street, I go a few blocks and at E Street I arrive.

Parking my car in a diagonal space, I exit and walk at a rapid pace.

Not far to go, I reach the house on the corner of 5^th and E. This is the place.

I haven’t been here for over a year because of COVID-19—a dreadful disease.

Wearing a mask, I approach the door, where the two greeters, Norm and Jan,

put me at ease.

Meeting in person has been a long time in coming, and the energy level

of those gathered is quite high.

Interacting with club members is special, with good feelings you can’t deny.

Recalling the wonderful Rotary history present in this house makes my heart

skip a beat.

On a Friday night in October 1925, sixty men, some Rotarians, but not all,

met here to enjoy the fellowship and eat.

From this throng of sixty, emerged twenty founding members of the new

Lincoln Rotary.

On that evening, the foundation was laid for a club that would create a

great history.

To date, over 4,500 Rotary meetings have been held at this house,

gatherings, which have made our membership proud.

During the pandemic, we wished for a quick return to this historic venue,

but were not allowed.

Now having returned to the house on 5^th and E, with a clear mission in sight,

Our club of devoted women and men will continue to serve our community

and others worldwide to make the future bright.

Monday, May 10, 2021

The pandemic has put obstacles in our path we could not have imagined. Overcoming them may not be easy to do alone.

So we seek help. This is the case with . . .

The Masked Poet—Troubled And Confused

During the pandemic,

my poetic voice

had been silenced.

Troubled and confused,

I sat,

with mask covering my face,

on my therapist’s couch.

I’d been seeing him

for over a year,

since COVID-19

invaded my space,

and he considered me

an absolute grouch.

He had trouble

understanding

why I acted

as I did

and wanted

to help me

find the reason why.

So today,

he said

he would ask me

five questions

to get to the bottom

of the matter,

and hoped

I would give

the process a try.

The first question,

“Who is

the most important person

in my life?”

made me quiver

and rattled my brain.

I looked at him

with a puzzled expression

on my face

and muttered,

“This is hard for me

to address,

please let me explain.”

Not accepting

my hesitancy,

he stated,

“We must move on,

but if we have time,

we can come back

to this one

later today.”

The second question,

“What treasure

would you like

to discover?”

left me perplexed,

so I said,

“I’m not sure

what to say.”

He looked at me

and groaned,

“You’re a poet,

with a voice.

You need to try

to make this work,

and I wish

you would.”

But before

I could respond,

he presented

the third question,

“What don’t I know

about you

that I should?”

I stared at him

in disbelief

and replied,

“I have nothing

at all to hide

or, for that matter,

to tell.”

“Since you seem

to be reluctant

to share

your most personal thoughts,

as a normal poet would,

I don’t think

our session

is going well.

“If I can’t get you

to work with me,

I might

have to resort

to another technique,

called hypnotherapy,

and, in that way,

delve into your mind.

“But first

let us attempt

to address

another question,

‘What would you do

if you

ruled the world?’

and through your response,

let’s see

what we find.”

“I would be a king,”

I yelled,

“and make

all the decisions

for those

under my rule.”

This proclamation

appeared to upend him

in a way

I couldn’t have predicted,

and he shouted,

“This session

is over!

You’re behaving

like a fool.”

“But I need your help,”

I cried.

“My mind

is boggled

and I’m at a loss

for words.

As a poet,

this cannot be.”

He didn’t respond.

He just pointed

to the door

and muttered,

under his breath,

“Nothing

can happen

if you won’t

open up

to me.”

Well, he never did ask

his final question.

He took my arm,

opened

his office door,

and told me to go.

However, as I did,

I felt

a sudden awakening

within me

and exclaimed,

“I am

the masked poet,

a man

of many words,

and this

you should know.

I will stand

on the street corner

and recite poetry

to people galore.

They will listen

to my treasured words

and applause

will fill the air

for the masked poet

they adore.

I bowed

to him

and said,

“Good-bye,

my good doctor,”

and went

on my way.

I left him

standing there,

wondering

what had happened,

with nothing

to say.