Aaltoe’s Blog

The advent of cure
With vaccinations begun
Yet, the pandemic
Still reaching for its highest peaks.

The advent of a new national leadership
With demonstrated evidence of empathy
Yet, the remaining presence of a national leadership
Stubbornly, without empathy, without integrity
Working to serve only its narrow self-interests
And to undermine the institutional checks and balances
That enable our democracy to persist.

The advent of a growing national awareness of the strength
Of cultural as well as political roots
Of polarization in our society
And of the weaknesses
Of traditional approaches
To finding common ground
And mobilizing our means and even our commitment
To achieve it.

There are, though, hints of thought and action
That interdependent communities will form
That will build upon one another’s work
While respecting their different life patterns and beliefs
And will grace our nation with fresh hope.

Today, a cold rainy day, turning to snow.
It should fit my mood
But it does not.
The year hasn’t been like that either

Instead, tumult and calm.
Tumult in that Covid struck early in the year
Forcing the calm of isolation on so many
But the promise of vaccines
Introducing the calm of hope.

Tumult in the outrageous behavior
Of President Trump
And the serious danger he poses
To Democracy
Calm in the victory of Joe Biden
In his qualities of empathy and understanding
And the promise of reestablishing
Some degree of collaboration and national purpose.

Tumult in that Pegasus,
Our beautiful boat,
Was disabled by a lightning strike
For most of the summer
Calm in the extraordinary
And peaceful rides she gave us
During June and September.

Tumult when two of the most stable appliances, washer and refrigerator
Let you down.
Calm when skilled hands
Replace them with new smooth running models.

Tumult in the frequency
Not to mention necessity of
My frequent visits to doctors offices
Even to the emergency room.
And the calm I sense
As my condition improves.

Tumult in communication and understanding
Among my family
Calm slowly returning
With loving good will

Tumult in that Lynn died.
She had been hastening toward death for quite some time.
Calm in her having passed peacefully.
Tumult in the process of grieving
But calm emerging from the finality
And from the necessity to look beyond
To find suitable resting places
That would honor her and her life.

At Thanksgiving dinner, without my knowing it,
She was in a little box behind me
And the family was together
As she would have wished.

The moon’s many moods
Resonate with mine—these days.
The moon doing battle with neighboring clouds
For who shall provide the brighter light
The clouds with their ability to shroud the moon completely
And in the next moment to amplify and transform
The light’s domain.

The moon steadily there,
Tonight almost full
Unblinking, patient ever present.
For those chaotic clouds,
The source of all their light,
Slowly moving upward in the sky,
Deceptively large.

The sun,
The light’s ultimate source
Not present
Except by reflection on the moon.
The clouds’ presence and their visible structure
Made evident by reflection from the moon
And its position.

The dim glow from the city below
No competition for the
Antics and acrobatics
Of the cloud-moon dance.

Surrounded by things
And by what their memory brings
Opens vistas
Conjures images
And resonant rings

That construct and deconstruct the past
In ways that leave one aghast
At the variety of selves
And their accompanying narratives
That seek to last.

Which will it be
Indeed how do you foresee
The self that treasures the best
Of what has gone before
And still is the “me”

That has grown to be able
To turn the table
On expectations that limit
The scope and power
Of the new fable

That constitutes my life.

Opening the door
Fresh air on my face
Something pulls me out
But pauses as the sky and the ground
Present themselves.
Down the porch stairs
Each step into new territory
With different limits
Different foci.
Movement of the eyes, head and body
Become involuntary, exploratory
Prompted by sounds, smells, movement.
The yard seems familiar
But at the same time not.
Seeing old things in new ways
New things in old ways
Forgetting old paths of movement
Following a new meander
Shaped by accident and intention
The scene unfolds
Affording what I could not possibly have foreseen:
Exhilarating delight.

When she heard of Lynn’s passing
Sue Speers imagined
That her late husband Guthrie,
Preacher, and both dear friends,
Might have said,
“Free at last.”
Her body had held her back.
She tolerated it with such grace
And never let others feel its limits
That would have been an imposition.
These later moments
Allowed another phase of her life to emerge.
Her pleasure, when being
Decorated by Erika or
Smiling with Zoë,
Was transparent.
There was no regret.
Mutual love radiated.
Her pleasure seemed even more pure
Than it might have in previous years.
She allowed others to enter her life,
To savor the beauty of her soul…
And sense their own.

Now I’m finding joy
In remembering and being reminded
Of so many events, episodes and scenes
To which she brought happiness, imagination and optimism,
To our children especially,
Whom she graced with a constructive outlook
And the capacity for productive action.
From tributes and notes of consolation from dear friends,
It becomes more clear than I could have imagined
How much she contributed to others
And that her supply of good will, good sense, and love
Was unlimited

Lynn passed
Earlier this October.
Emptiness, nearness to tears,
Sadness not only from her passing
But from years of slow decline
With its turbulent start
And rapid conclusion.
I never knew how
To bring her happiness.
Yet there were moments
When our eyes met
When we saw together
Moments that often brought mutual joy
Moments sharing the pain and the inevitability of her condition
Moments when no sharing occurred
More of these as time wore on.

.

Her smile,
Amused, bemused;
Her gaze,
Penetrating, loving;
Her demeanor,
Independent, relating;
Her stance,
Always strong.
Accomplished artist:
Works in silver, gold, and metal,
Painting, drawing, and thought.
Nurturing challenging mother
Of three marvelous and accomplished daughters;
Amazing life-partner
To me.
I never came to know her completely
As there was always more:
Depth, humanity, forgiveness, surprise