Does truth matter anymore?

Better yet, do we realize how difficult it is to say exactly what we want or need to say? This poem from Without a Flight Plan caught my eye yesterday. I can’t get it off my mind…especially given what’s at stake for us here in the USA.

Half truths + Half lies = Lies

And what about real life?

Half-truths
Half-lies
Does it really matter?

Yes means ‘Yes…but’
Not now means ‘maybe
in the sweet by and by’

Mind your manners
Sweeten your voice
Remember who you are not

You do care
About your children
Don’t you?

Or your job
Or your good reputation
Or your life

Sly words
Strung like pearl
Bullets

If you flee
They will find you
In the end

Now….
What did you want
To say?

© 2021 by Elouise Renich Fraser
Poem published in Without a Flight Plan, 2021, page 95

Sometimes I wonder whether we in the USA are looking for truth, or for entertainment. Something that will lull us into the sad belief that everything is going to turn out fine, just fine.  Not just everything about upcoming elections this fall, but what’s going on in the rest of the world. To say nothing about constant upheavals of nature and the weather.

I’m not suggesting we should become experts. We already have too many so-called ‘experts’ flooding our news media 24 hours a day. We can, however, become better listeners. Not just to our way of seeing things, but to those who don’t always (or ever) agree with us. Especially those closest to us.

Right now, however, I’m going to stop writing and get back to life in this old house with King David and Prince Smudge. I’d vote for either of them any day. And maybe for you, too!

How are you coping with current realities of this weary world?
Thanks for stopping by.
Elouise♥

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 7 March 2024

What do you see these days?

This morning I picked up my small volume of Emily Dickinson poems. Almost immediately my eyes found a poem I commented on about ten years ago. I was stunned at how much it still speaks to me and to the chaos that seems to have enveloped us.

Here’s the poem, with my comments at the end. It isn’t an easy poem. But it seems nothing is easy these days no matter where we look.

Before I got my eye put out

Before I got my eye put out
I liked as well to see –
As other Creatures, that have Eyes
And know no other way –

But were it told to me – Today –
That I might have the sky
For mine – I tell you that my Heart
Would split, for size of me –

The meadows – mine –
The Mountains – mine –
All Forests – Stintless Stars –
As much of Noon as I could take
Between my finite eyes –

The Motions of the Dipping Birds –
The Morning’s Amber Road –
For mine – to look at when I liked –
The News would strike me dead –

So safer – guess – with just my soul
Upon the Window pane –
Where other Creatures put their eyes –
Incautious – of the Sun –

Emily Dickinson, c. 1862
Published in 1995 by Shambala Pocket Classics in Emily Dickinson POEMS, pp 38-39

These days it’s difficult, if not impossible, to understand what is happening to us and to this world. It doesn’t matter where I turn my eyes. To look deeply into today’s realities is to face a kind of death.

Several weeks ago, I decided it was time to stop blogging. My health issues are multiple. I thought not blogging would help me. It didn’t.

So here I am. Again. I don’t pretend to see things clearly. I just know we’re in this together whether we like it or not, and that writing is good for my body and soul.

Praying this finds you grateful to be alive, with “just your soul upon the Window pane.”

Elouise

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 26 February 2024
Photo of male hummingbird found at montencateclegg.blogspot.com.

Grief revisited

 

winter sun pierces
my paralyzed heart waking
frozen grief at will

The last few years have been difficult in ways I never anticipated. For whatever it’s worth, I’m not wired to be a happy-go-lucky woman. Nor am I eager or able to ‘get over’ what my body and spirit can’t let go of.

How might I make use of grief I’ve experienced for 80 years as the female I was and now am? Not because it will make me feel better, but because grief acknowledged and shared can build bridges with people we never dreamed we would meet.

Due to ongoing health issues, I struggle with daily isolation. Still, I’m a people person. These days tears come quickly. They’re often followed by anguish and anger at how isolated I feel, and how many things I can’t count on anymore.

When I was in my late 40s, I did five years of personal work in AlAnon. I attended meetings three times a week. I learned quickly that what triggered my desire to fix others kept me from tending to my own pain. For the first time ever, I learned to listen. I also learned when and how to seek help from trusted friends.

Naming my issues and being accepted for the woman I am created a bridge of trust that gave me hope and courage to keep going. I don’t know exactly where this will take me. Still, I’m grateful for your visit today. Especially now, as things seem to be falling apart wherever we look.

Praying you’ll find peace and hope during this holy season.
Elouise

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 16 December 2023
Photo of Northern Lights at edge of Boreal Forest, Manitoba, Canada taken by David Marx, found at pinterest.com

This old relic

Who am I?

A relic
An old lady
Loaded with memories
A traveler
waiting her turn
to board the next flight out

Slow
Weary
Confined by this and that
Sometimes loving each moment
on the sofa
with D on one side
and soft furry Smudge
on the other

During the past few weeks we’ve had family members here for my 80^th birthday and for Thanksgiving. As wonderful as it was, it was also a reminder that D and I are now in the ‘old age’ department, with most of the exciting stuff happening elsewhere.

Every now and then I wonder why I’m still here, though I love each moment with family members and various pets. What does it mean to be this old? And why do memories of my past keep coming to mind?

When I began blogging, I wanted to work through my past in writing. As a child and then teenager, my perspective was rarely accepted as part of the conversation. Nor did things get easier after I left home for my own life with D and our two children.

Today it seems we’re crash-landing into messes that belittle women, children, and men, and invite us to look the other way as this world falls apart.

What does it mean to be living in times like these? I can’t get this question out of my mind.

Thanks for visiting today.
Elouise

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 4 December 2023
Photo of our family taken Christmas 1971

I never knew…

I never knew life
would become fraught
with unknowns and
diminishing returns

Today’s ‘news’ overflows with
hype and vainglory
presenting itself as the reality
it is not and never will be

Chaos seems to reign by
stirring unrest and
more dis-ease than
a body can tolerate

I turn off the news
in favor of beautiful music
sweeping over me
one note at a time

How does a body/soul respond to undisciplined warfare that demands attention every moment of every day and night? The sad truth is that my generation of white women and men has helped bring us to this point of what seems to be madness.

Our current upheavals can’t be denied or ignored. I used to think progress would come in good time. It has not. Instead, we seem to be catapulting downward and backwards here in what we so proudly call the United States of America.

Even so, my challenge has been and still is to do what I can one day at a time. Not just for and with others, but for myself. It’s simple. I’m still learning to live within my limitations without apology, resentment, or anger. A hard act, I must admit.

Thanks for stopping by today. I pray we’ll all find ways to focus our energy on what matters most.
Elouise♥

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 6 October 2023
Photo found at speak-the-truth-thewei.com.jpg

Where and Who am I?

This morning I looked out our kitchen window just as a beautiful adult Flicker landed on one of our birdbaths. Stunning. Sure of himself. And most of all, grateful for a drink of water.

I sometimes wonder these days why I’m still alive. Not because I wish I were dead, but because it seems there’s nothing left for me in this life. Which, of course, I know is a Great Big Lie.

Weather. Politics. War. Famine. Floods. Typhoons. Hurricanes. Fires. Merciless Killings. Fear.

All of it, or even some of it by itself is More Than Enough. The value of one soul seems to have plunged to the bottom of the heap. And I wonder every day, Why am I still here?

No, I’m not sitting here doing nothing. There are people and programs needing all the help they can get. Still, fatigue comes on quickly. Especially with the hot summer we’ve had. But more than that is going on in me.

Today, if all goes well, I’ll enjoy a walk with D in our neighborhood. If all goes extremely well, I’ll see some birds I recognize, or have a short conversation with a neighbor also out for a walk.

Isn’t this enough? I don’t know. I wonder sometimes how, where and when we’re supposed to learn to be old people. Especially old people at home. By the time we take care of our aging bodies, or finish the bare necessities (laundry, cooking, a teeny tiny bit of cleaning), what have we accomplished?

One thing is clear: I love blogging. I don’t love all the changes WordPress has made. Still, while I have my little corner, I’m happy to be part of the human race with all its agony and ecstasy. Especially now.

Thanks for stopping by and reading. I wonder, what gets you through a tough day or a hard night?

Elouise♥

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 16 September 2023
Photo taken by DAFraser, February 2015; Flicker in our holly tree enjoying free lunch

What does it mean to be free?

I used to think leaving home would set me free
No more eyes watching my every move
No more beatings meant to break my resistance
No more unwelcome talks about how I needed to change
No more books or surreptitious hints about
how to be a good Christian daughter or woman

All I had to do was stay ‘pure,’ get married, and leave home–
preferably far from my parents and their attempts
to make me into the woman I could never be

Early in our marriage I went back to school. First seminary, and later university.  Before university, I traveled to Germany for five months of intensive German language study. I came home fluent. Even my dreams were auf Deutsch. Through all this, my husband, my children, and my piano held me together no matter where I was.

Sadly, this didn’t include staying connected to my sisters. A ‘small’ thing I thought didn’t matter.

Today, after Ruth’s recent death from congestive heart failure, plus Diane’s earlier death from ALS, I have one sister left on this earth. She’s my youngest sister, the one I scarcely knew when I married and left home. Thankfully, our lives crossed after I began teaching at the seminary in the 1980’s.

I used to think connections with my parents came first, though they were often painful. Today I know better. My relationship with each sister shaped me far more than my parents did, despite their efforts to turn me into a good girl/woman.

Diane and I found each other first, thanks to her willingness to talk with me about our childhood struggles with our parents. My youngest sister and I connected following the sudden death of her husband about ten years ago. I wish I could say that Sister #2 and I found each other before her death this past June. We talked on the phone from time to time and emailed each other about health issues. But we never felt fully at ease with each other.

Still, we were reaching out as adults. This went against everything our father tried to program in us. No talking or giggling with each other when the lights went out. No complaining to each other about family business. No secrets kept from our parents. Ever.

Instead, we were to smile, obey Daddy’s Rules for Good Girls, and show up every Sunday at church. Furthermore, if we had things to say to each other, we were to keep our parents in the “know” even after we’d married and moved far away from them and each other.

Thanks for listening, and for stopping by today.
Elouise♥

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 15 August 2023
Photo found at medium.com

Reminders that I’m not alone

Tears well up,
spill over without
warning

Sadness looms,
indelibly engraved
on my heart

Reading old journals,
playing the piano,
watching fiery sunsets

Or watching children filled
with laughter on a day
unlike any other day

Content and discontent
all in the same moment

Life is short.

What will I do with this day?
Does it even matter?

Look! There’s a brilliant goldfinch on the bird feeder!

Yes, I know my desk is covered with clutter—
things I don’t want to close, put away just yet
or forget.

Sometimes I think my life has become a pile of
notes, cards, letters, and lists of supplements
I take to keep this old body chugging along.

Still, today there’s a goldfinch on the feeder,
and cool, dry air we haven’t enjoyed recently,
plus cicadas singing their screechy summer songs,
and Smudge roosting on the refrigerator door.

Not everything I would like
but enough for this day–
reminders that I’m not alone

Thanks for stopping by.
Elouise♥

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 1 August 2023
Fancied-up photo of Smudge plus magnifying ‘eyeglasses’ provided by our daughter and her husband.

Taking a deep breath

Dear Friends,

The last several weeks have been up and down, all around, and back again. Here’s a summary of what’s been happening.

1. My wonderful integrative doctor has closed her practice in order to run the family business for the foreseeable future. Her husband had a stroke. The business is a walk-in emergency care center which included her own private practice. She is now running the family business and helping care for her husband. Dr. K. made a huge impact on my life after I broke my jaw and was quickly spiraling downward.

2. On the brighter side, I’m enjoying my new diet, eating things I never thought I would be able to eat again. Mostly veggies, fruit, and wonderful soups. My weight, for the first time in several years, has increased to its ‘normal’ number and stayed there.

3. The weather and air quality in the Philadelphia area is often atrocious. Still, I’m able to get out and walk several times a week. Sometimes alone, sometimes with David. Mornings are best, when the birds are singing their little hearts out and the cicadas are offering unannounced concerts whether we asked for them or not!

4. What does it mean for me to be a senior citizen? I’m still not sure. Though I’m an introvert, being alone isn’t my favorite setting. In my experience, out of sight almost always leads to out of mind. I struggle with self-pity from time to time. However, I’m also learning that this unasked-for solitude offers opportunities I’ve not had in the past. More on that in a later post.

5. Finally, I’ve been reading journals from my visits with Diane from the time she learned she had ALS until she died of it about 10 years later. Nothing about ALS was easy for Diane, family members, or friends. I’m grateful I was able to fly from Philly to Texas several times a year to visit with Diane and her family. She showed me how to enjoy life even though the cost of living with ALS was very high.

That’s it for today. Thank you for stopping by, and for your kind comments in the last month or so. Praying you’ll experience peace and joy today, regardless of your circumstances.

Elouise♥

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 24 July 2023
Photo of catbird bathing was found at thebackyardnaturalist.com

Finding my bearings

Diane, Elouise, Ruth and Judy

Dear Friends,

Thank you for your visits, prayers, and kind comments this past week. My sister Ruth’s death came very quickly at the end. So quickly that I didn’t have a chance to talk with her on the phone before she died.

One of my biggest sorrows is that our Renich families and relatives have been spread out all over the world, making it difficult to bond with each other in person. Sometimes Ruth and I talked on the phone and via email. During the last several years most of our correspondence was about health issues. Our bodily infirmities just kept piling on, one after another.

That Ruth would die before I did was never on the agenda. The same was true for Diane who died of ALS in February 2006. Now there are two of us–my youngest sister and I. I’m grateful for the time and privilege of getting to know her. She’s 9 1/2 years younger than I.

Thank you for stopping by and leaving notes. Thank you for your kindness and your prayers. Especially now, as we creep along one day at a time, watching and wondering how much longer we have on this planet.

Everything hasn’t been awful. As I reported several posts ago, I’ve been diagnosed with hypokalemia–a rarity among patients not in hospitals, old folks’ homes, or hospice care. My food intake (good food, no junk!) has improved dramatically, now that I have more options. And I’m able to get out and do some serious walking in spite of peripheral neuropathy in my feet. I’m also sleeping better, though tears and sadness still overwhelm me from time to time.

Praying you’re finding ways to honor your family, your friends, and yourself during these troubling times.

Elouise♥

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 8 July 2023
Photo taken by JERenich, probably at Ben Lippen Conference facilities in 1953