Archive for August, 2015

A truly cool and serene day outside. I cannot know if the clouds hold rain. If they do, I pray they don’t burst until they reach the areas where fires blaze. I cannot know if the breezes will favor the efforts to contain the flames, but I pray that mother nature aids the thinking, struggles, and strategies there on the ground.
I cannot know if the good Lord is able to focus on every named complex of flames, but I do pray that all the young lives battling the infernos have a heavenly grace and a bubble of mercy there to keep them safe.
This thing called fired is but another adversary not unlike a combatant in war…and she shoots her bullets everywhere and at random. I pray their path is poorly aimed, and they land benign, finding thin air rather than flesh.
I cannot know that cooler air does much to disarm the potency of the flames, but I pray that it gives a measure of relief to the fighters of the purgatory like burrows hereabouts…and that they allow for clearer thinking, swifter feet, stronger resolve, and an added measure of containment of things…
God bless the mercies of a cooler day, a collecting of potentially rain showering clouds, and an end to this drought ridden and endless, cursed summer…Matthew

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As I witness the states around me being tinder dry, streams and rivers dissipating, warm and unable to host life…I can also smell and see smoke in the air as land and towns, homes, and lives burn.
I cannot help but wonder why a larger portion the fleets of airplanes owned by the wealthy companies and our own government haven’t been converted to water/fire retardant bearing bombers. We certainly have enough resources and planes to bomb the shit out of any place on the globe at a moment’s notice…and yet our country burning to a crisp is responded to by a mere drop in the bucket, relatively speaking…sigh.
And again I look to our lands drying up, crops shriveled and crispy. I look to the streams that fish cannot return to to spawn. I look to the rivers, warm and green with invasive growth, to dead sturgeon and fresh waters in a toxic state. And I look to a parched population.
Then I see (for instance) the huge corporations raking in windfall and record profits…proudly distributed to a few lucky shareholders. Their corporate chests puffed up and full of false bravado. And I reflect back on the times when corporate America rose and served a better cause during times of war. And I wonder why the rising up of nature threatening us all, even the wealthiest, hasn’t prompted those financially over blessed folks to again address things for the “greater good” and not just the few.
I saw war planes and tanks and weapons and all the tools of war materialize overnight…and yet our coastlines are yet to be blessed with desalinization plants and a lifeline to the masses of our own. The debates are always nearly exclusive to pipelining oil. I have news for you folks. None of us will ever pour oil on our crops, swim in it, fish from it, or drink it. We have plenty of oil and political issues surrounding the countries we siphon it from. WE NEED FRESH, SWEET, CLEAN WATER. Lots of it.
I understand it isn’t fashionable to do a damned thing that doesn’t add to the bottom line, but even shareholder and CEOs need fresh water, food, a living water and ecosystem…And all the stacks of cash in the world cannot be eaten, drank, breathed, or sent to wherever along with their holders after they are dead, along with the rest of us peons.
I am more than just a bit concerned with the situations overrunning us today, and the lack of resources being trickled onto them. The focus and priorities are surely pointed in the wrong directions.

I think many of us look for the “second coming” to materialize in the form a man among us performing miracles. I think the second coming is expected by the good Lord to consist of the miracles being performed by his flocks here on earth. I think the good Lord is waiting for us all to get together and save ourselves from nature and each other. And I think the good Lord is watching and waiting in the wings. And I think he may be becoming mighty sad over what he sees and hears. Just a lot of killing, talk, finger pointing, judging, and hoarding. And not enough real doing.
Doing REAL good doesn’t always add to the coffers of shareholders. Real good is basic and the reward is in the doing, and giving, with a lack of public acknowledgement and patting on the backs…other than the feeling of sweet knowing when one’s head rests on the pillow at night…so that ALL of us might be able to rest easier. THAT is the reward. Knowing the truth, and realizing that the second coming is already upon us, and that many of us are failing miserably in his eyes…
Note: (…the “many” I refer to are the leaders, the politicians, the policy makers, the decision makers, the lobbyists, the CEOs, the wealthiest, the influential, the movers and the shakers…)
There, I spoke my piece. MLL

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For Karis…

Karis Louise…
As a new baby in the Lone Star State, first Gramma, then Papa held you before all others in the world…and it took their breath away.
Those eyes like the sea, and beautiful brown locks…that petite girl with her quiet smile, even in silence across the room, could take our breath away.

And she did at times struggle, some moments tried, and thought, and fought for a string to pull, a button to push…for reasons to smile, to be proud, to be loved. And her passion took our breath away.
It is a world of give and take, of seeking balance, and taking leaps of faith.
A life of miracles and reasons to believe. Karis gave us Stevie, a wee one with a will as strong as a mighty river, and a heart that fluttered and blew about in the breeze. Yet he somehow more than managed to remain with us and grow stronger over time. The miracle multiplied. And it took our breath away.

There are things we face, wounds of the spirit, and injuries of our frames. Karis was no exception to life’s traumas and dramas. And over time, I witnessed her pain. Even to sit next to me there was sometimes a strain. I too have been touched by the tortures of the wounded discs and twisted frame. And we shared the couch and empathy, and it took our breath away.

Karis did smile that smile, and endure the moments and travel the miles. And she did say to me one day…in essence, that she was far too young to have grown so old. That mishaps in cars had beat her up so. She confided in me as she leaned on me…and I felt her struggle to maintain control between the relievers of pain, and the pains that accompanied relief. And both can shroud us and wick away the joys of life. And at times, I held my breath in hopes she could find relief without peril…and I came to know what was possible for me, might not be for her. And my heart grew heavy with her suffering. And again, it took my breath away to see her this way…

That Karis did love and give and nurture and protect was evident in her quests to rescue pets and people. That she had an infectious passion for doing so followed her through the years. And I have been kept company by those critters, by her breezy ways. And I myself was rescued at times by her kindness to this old uncle. By a quick phone call to her that always grew to an hour of grateful talk. By a text that lingered there with a buoyant message and sweetness…and I peeked at those notes time and again.

But time as it passes is not always kind. And the mercies can grow fewer, and miracles elusive. And promises unkept by nature and chance…They mount and wait, till a collective dark cloud might visit in the night. And in this case, found her fast asleep and hopefully at peace, while it took the life breath, and our Karis away. And I’d like to believe that the person who first held her on earth, held her first in heaven too…

And today I sigh a sad and heavy sigh, and recall the times she shared those precious, “…I love you Uncle Matt” utterings that will from now on carry both peace and a twinge in tow. I shall recall, I will cling to them…and I return in kind, “Little one, I love you too. Get some rest, and please carry the love of an old uncle with you where you go…
You took my breath away. THE UM.

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Saturday afternoon.
Just as Saturday was starting as a new day around midnight past, I came to know that one of my numerous nieces had left this life. A thirty year old beautiful kiddo.
Ahh, my nieces. I have kidded with them all for years, “I love all my nieces equally, just some a lot more equal than the others…” She was of the more equal, and she and I have had some glorious moments in our quiet exchanges over the far too few years.
Karis Louise, also known as “Careless Leweegee”…I will so miss you girl. I’ll miss your sweet notes on Facebook, and your texts or calls to let me know that you’re “on Snoqualmie pass and will be at Papa’s in just a little while…”
I will miss you propping me up at times when I’ve needed propping, and hugging me when I’ve needed hugging. I will miss your, “I love you, THE Uncle Matt”.

Karis Louise
I will miss all these things, but you keep Gramma Vimy company…she has been waiting for you for many years.
I will miss these things, and you. BUT I will also constantly remember all these great moments between an old uncle and his special and beautiful niece.
I will never forget the perfect moments that you snuggled up to my shoulder, even after you were grown, and sighed a quiet sigh as if you just knew that was the most safe and perfect place to be. And then you’d drift off for a few. And in those blessed precious minutes, I knew I’d just been blessed with a perfect moment in this life…
Until I see you again, these moments will sustain me, and some, some will carry me. I love you like my own Karis Craig. Say hi to your Gramma for me. I’ll call YOU from the pass one day to let you know that I’m on the way.
Hugs, and love ya! THE Uncle Matt

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