Good Morning!
I always think I should start with a salutation of some kind, an expression of personal warmth and recognition, but I’m also discovering that sometimes, even stopping to remember the salutation gets in the way of the flow of my thought which distracts me. That being the case, I’m going to dispense with the “Good Morning” for the time being, and go right into my thinking, my reflection on the immediate past, yesterday’s experiences for the most part.
Yesterday was one of those times where my reflections took me deeper into myself. It was pouring down rain most of the day which I’m sure helped pull me inward. I didn’t even pull on my running pants until the afternoon, lounging in pajamas and socks, sipping hot tea and searching for my copy of Brad Skeele’s story of growing up in the suburbs of Columbus, Ohio in the beginning of the 20th century, a hundred years ago. He had never had any of his writing published so I wanted to incorporate his story in my next book as a way of honoring him. Although Brad was my adoptive father, he was my dad during those crucial years between kindergarten and high school, and he loved me as his own child. I spent the day going through 4 big plastic containers full of my memorabilia but could not find Brad’s story. I did find something else he wrote which in fact has been published in a newsletter issued by the Grandview Heights/Marble Cliff Historical Society. Unless I come across the other piece I’ll re-publish Brad’s second story which, too, is well done, a story about the beginnings of the high school fraternity, the Brotherhood of Rooks, which I was initiated into the year i attended the Grandview Heights High School.
A bigger question arose as I went through the many personal items now under my sole care. What do I do with all this stuff? Who will be interested in storing it and why should they? It occurs to me to ask my kids if they want certain things, maybe but beyond that? I might feel a little more protective here, If I hadn’t written 8 books so far, some of which convey my history. I have managed to leave a pretty sizable paper trail already. Joan, my wife, has helped, joining forces in publishing a memoir of sorts entitled “Whittling” a few years prior to her death in 2012. But what do I do with Joan’s diploma from Ohio State University or mine from Yale Divinity School? Or my framed Ordination certificate from my first church in Edina, Minnesota in 1953 where I was “set apart” by the ancient ritual of the laying on of hands. Then there are five large, leather-bound albums of photographs which I didn’t even bother to look through. There is something going on here telling me it’s all irrelevant now, past and over, that NOW is the only thing that matters. And yet, I’m not ready to throw everything in the recycle bin, too hard still to think of my memories and pictures converted to paper cups and plates ready for the next backyard picnic.
I talked on the phone with Kornelia last night. It was good to hear her voice. I share her disappointment that her first days in Kauai, Hawaii, have been wet and gray, particularly since she’d gone to such great lengths to produce a protective tan before she ever left home. Now she’s losing it. I’m not surprised to learn that there are no tanning salons on the Island of Kauai and probably not on any other island either. Apparently the clouds are to disappear soon and she’ll have plenty of time to regain her desired hue. She is not due back here until May 8th. I want her looking healthy, too, brown and happy, upon her return. I urged her to contact Jean at the Dolphin Touch Inn for a room starting today, quite happy to go halves with her until her partner Brian arrives to pick up the entire rental tab. Kornelia’s pal, Larry, is generous with his space but is himself making room in his apartment for his new partner -who is to move in soon – creating, understandably, a degree of disorder, something Kornelia has a hard time with as she attempts to focus on her radio shows and other projects. I’m prepared to think her life there will only improve. I know right now she misses me and our new home. And I her, of course. I am, on the other hand, getting used to being in my own company and am getting a lot of writing done. I’ll settle for that now while at the same time looking forward to hosting suppers with my friends a couple of times a week.
