24 February 2014

a new feast



the faults of flesh
are its pleasures, come to an end.
when weaned, be it gradual or sudden,
what feeds us then?
the wise ones live their dying daily,
practicing death to this world
while their hearts still beat against the cage of their ribs with love-
practicing opening to the milk that feeds the soul
until
flesh fails
& falls back to renew the elements of earth
& spirit flies to a new feast.

13 February 2014

For Victor on Valentine's Day

He husbands me.
His warm shining smile, calling forth my fruit.
Heart swelling so much - it pushes up the corners of my mouth.
His body, my ground to grow from.
Engineering our days,
He wakes me with naked maleness
and blankets me at bedtime with his comforting.
When Colorado winters get too cold & dry
He transplants me to warmer, moister places.
His laughter and good humor sparkle across our days,
Tickling me without a touch,
Droplets of happiness, refreshing.
He works my barren areas,
Digging deeply to loosen me,
Making room for more life.

25 January 2014

Clues to My Father - on his birthday



My father’s name was Alben Berg Moan.  He was born in 1925, the fourth of five children.  His parents were Peter and Bertha Moan, both immigrants from Norway living in Grantsburg, Wisconsin.  The name “Alben” means “pale one” and I wonder if he was pale at birth –later in life he was bronze-skinned, especially in summer.  “Berg” might have come from the Norwegian mountains or from Bergen in Norway.  He was known as “Al” by some, “Ebby” by others.  We don’t know where the Ebby came from, it started before Mom met him.

Dad’s dad, Grandpa Moan was tall and thick without being fat.  He had pale skin and blue eyes—seemed very Scandanavian.  But I often wondered at how un-Scandanavian my Grandma Moan looked.  She was short, under 5 feet tall, thin and with the same concentrated, dark brown eyes as my father.  Her skin was also darker with an olive tinge.  Once she told me that “we are part Gypsy.”  When I asked Dad about it later he insisted she was joking – but it somehow rang true to me.  And he was her body type.

The only story my Dad told me about his childhood was that all too often he had to go fetch his dad at the bar.

His high school year book provided some clues to teen years.  He was in Boy Scouts, basketball and baseball.  In basketball he was “known for his speed and a deadly shot from the outside.”  His handsome senior photo listed his activities next to it and his senior quote,” Girls are bothersome and I like to be bothered.” Old report cards showed passing but not stellar grades.

Another clue is the two ancient grass skirts from his time in the army unit based in New Guinea.  He turned 18 in 1943 during his senior year and received his draft letter, ordering him straight into the Army after graduation.  He never spoke much about that time but a photo shows him shirtless, with his army pants and boots on, hands on his hips, in front of a Quonset hut.

Dad put us on skates at an early age.  He was a strong ice skater.  He’d played semi-professional hockey for several years in Minnesota.  That quick action game, like basketball, suited him.

Dad met Mom at a dance hall in Wisconsin.  Mom said, “He didn’t really dance but my friend Millie was dating his brother Gordon and I met him through them. He was real good looking and I got hooked.  We started dating after that.”  Her mother loved my dad also. When they had dated awhile another guy came over, who mom used to date.  Grandma Johnson told him “You can quit coming around.  Dorothy has a real good boyfriend now.”

Mom said, “We got married in April—you were at our wedding! It all was good.  We married at the Pine city church with my sister Betty and his brother Gordon as our attendants.”  As a child I’d wondered why my mom got married in a suit, while my aunt Betty had a big white wedding dress.  Dad lived & worked in Eau Claire, Wisconsin then and she briefly joined him there before they moved to the Cities for a better job.  That’s where I was born, in Minneapolis.

There are so many photos of Dad with babies.  Dad loved babies.  That’s one reason he had so many kids-when one grew out of being a cute little baby, it was time for a new one!  We had six in all.  He loved to talk with, play with, and hold every little baby that came his way. 

Dad was a hard worker to support his family.  Only a hard worker could hold 3 jobs at one time, which he did at one stage when Mom was still home with little kids.  He worked full time as a warehouse worker at Coast-to-Coast stores.  It was very physical work and kept him lean and strong.  He was there over 20 years until Coast –to –Coast was bought out and then, eventually the warehouse was closed.   His part time work was cleaning office, in the evening after working at the warehouse all day. 

I remember Dad going fishing.  At different times he had a small fishing boat.  That unique smell and slippery feel of newly, caught fish stays with me.  Dad would fillet them on an old board, and I can still hear the sound of him scraping off the scales with his knife.  That fish would taste better because he had caught it himself.

Once, when I was about 5 years old, I was sitting on my Dad’s lap, and he rubbed his stubbly, morning beard on my face.  He said, “Someday your boyfriend will do that to you.”

Dad loved to work outside in the yard.  When we moved into our family home in 1959 he planted seeds rather than sod in our yard.  It took some nurturing and time, but that grass was so thick and so soft to walk in barefoot.  Weeds couldn’t grow in it, it was so thick.

Dad was not a big reader, although he usually read the newspaper until his eyesight gave out.  He’d call me a “bookworm’, “always having my nose in a book.”  We were different that way.

Dad and I argued a lot when I was a teen.  Before that age, his temper and propensity to spank kept me in check. As I got older I knew that he was unlikely to hit me as a teenaged girl.  I was a good girl myself and didn’t get into trouble in what I did.  But we often fought over his comments about “those jews and niggers” or his stern treatment of my brothers, who just wanted to grow their hair out like all the other boys.

50th wedding anniversary
Dad was goofy sometime—he liked to joke and tickle.  I remember seeing him tickling Mom and her laughing until it was too much.  He did silly things sometimes, like tell us to pull his finger and then fart when we did.

Dad’s memory was always different.  He often repeated things.  The one time during my college years that I was high on marijuana and in his presence, it seemed like his way of talking was perfect for when I was stoned. Maybe he had some brain damage from earlier in his life.  But then his memory got worse.  Dad was diagnosed with Alzheimers.

His last few years, Dad lost not only his memory but his fiery anger, his sparkle, and his eye sight.  He didn’t know me but whenever he heard my voice on the phone he would start to cry.  When I was in Minnesota for my summer visit he told me how hard his life was, and cry. 

After a few years, he couldn’t care for himself any more, would wander when unsupervised, and he didn’t remember who even my mother was.  Finally, to save Mom from the stress, he had to be put in a nursing home.  After over 50 years together this was a hard decision for her.  She went to the nursing home to feed him his lunch most days, often bringing him ice cream, which he continued to love to the end.

The last time I saw Dad alive, I went with Mom to the nursing home.  He was only about 90 pounds, his muscle all gone, leaving just his skin hanging on his bones.  After Mom fed him lunch, I wanted to connect with him somehow. He had complained about tightness in his neck and throat so I asked “Would you like a neck and shoulder massage?”  He agreed.  As I gently rubbed his now frail body he relaxed some and said, “That feels good.”  We helped him shuffle back to his room to rest.  After we got him situated in his bed and he closed his eyes to sleep, I kissed my Dad goodbye on his stubbly cheek.

The day he died, the nursing home called my Mom to say that he was slipping away.  The family went to his side.  When every one else had left, my sister Cindy lingered behind.  She told him,”It’s OK to leave Dad- We’ll take care of Mom.  You can rest now.”  A couple of hours later he finally let go of his depleted body.  

When I got the call that he had died I was so sad that I couldn’t have been there with him.  Two days later though I had a vision of him—he looked strong and vital again, he was smiling and I knew he was sending me a clue from heaven that he was happy.



Previously published in When I was Terry by Terra Rafael



11 December 2013

Knowing Life

credit: Julien Palmarini
Knowing Life by Heart is challenging
in this domain of physical.com-
so many pop-ups
interrupting
But
remember
It's All Light
when viewed through the
Ultimate Innernet of
Love.

16 April 2013

Your Liver- Your Female Problems - Part 1 - What to Avoid



Your Liver -

Your Female Problems – Part 1-- What to Avoid


If you have any “female problems” like
-menstrual cramps
-PMS
-heavy menses
-hot flashes

-fibroids

-endometriosis

you’ll want to make friends with your liver.



Estrogen dominance can play a big role in all of these conditions.  And the liver is important in ridding your body of estrogens. (Hint: A high fiber diet also helps bind them and excrete them from the colon.)



To be friends with your liver –

Avoid these things may damage or overload it:

  • ·         Yoyo dieting can stress the liver
  • ·         Being overweight is associated with fatty liver disease – regular exercise can help prevent it
  • ·         More than one alcohol drink per day
  • ·         Marijuana or other street drugs
  • ·         Excess vitamins, especially vitamin A - For adults, the safe daily intake of vitamin A is around 3,000 micrograms – this is much lower for children and adolescents or people with high alcohol intake, pre-existing liver disease, high cholesterol or severe protein malnutrition. Be aware that some fish oil contains high levels of vitamin A.
  • ·         Some prescription drugs – check for warnings.
  • ·         Excess over the counter drugs, especially acetaminophen. Alcohol consumption substantially increases the risk of acute liver failure from acetaminophen overdose. According to the National Institutes of Health, liver damage may occur with consumption of only 2,600 mg of acetaminophen in the course of a day in people who have consumed varying amounts of alcohol. It is strongly recommended that people who consume alcohol on a regular basis limit acetaminophen intake to a maximum of 1,000 to 2,000 mg per day. The preference is to stay at the lower end of that range. Always remember that a huge number of products contain acetominophen. To protect the liver, it is crucial to never combine acetaminophen-containing products. Carefully read the labels of all over-the-counter medications, as well as all prescription medications, in order to be certain that you never consume more than 1,000 to 2,000 mg of acetaminophen in any 24 hour period.
(Hint:  N-acetylcysteine (NAC) boosts the liver’s production of glutathione, the antioxidant used by the liver to safely detoxify acetaminophen and many other chemicals. By consuming NAC (500 mg, three times daily) on days you take acetaminophen, you can decrease the risk for serious liver toxicity. Never exceed the recommended daily limit of acetaminophen - even when taking NAC.)
  • Hepatitis, of all kinds – some kinds are sexually transmitted so use a condom.  Tattoos and piercings not done hygienically could cause Hepatitis infections as well.
                                        Sources:  LoveYourLiver.com.au                     
                                                        UC San Diego Health System - Liver Center


NEXT TIME:  Liver-loving foods and habits

29 March 2013

Wrestling with Raspberry




Her long prickly limbs, green with leaves
Bow down to the Earth, ends heavy laden with bunches of berries
Which I hope to intercept before the rabbits or the rot.
I prop her up.
The ripe berries surrender to my tender touch,
Gracefully letting go into the palm of my hand.
Berries-
Earlier you blossomed into flowers for the bees,
Now blossom into flavor for me—
Feed me & I will water you—
Together, sisters,
Wrapped in each others arms.

by Terra Rafael