Remembering one of a group of poems that I wrote to a Poetry 101 Rehab writing prompt: “No Forevers“. It’s on my poetry-writing blog: Quilted Poetry.
If we were having coffee together, this weekend, I would share that I feel haunted, sometimes, by poetry that I’ve read/written throughout my life. More often, now, as my parents are nonagenarians (Father, soon a centenarian, it appears). The burden of life is not the present, which we cope with routinely or not as we’re used to doing, nor is it the future, which weighs lightly on us. The burden of life fast becomes the burden of the past, of life…lived irretrievably.
[I was looking forward from “No Forevers”, but should have looked back to “Ending All“.]
If we were visiting in person, this weekend, I would admit to liking where I am and who I have become, but Good grief! the paths that brought me to this place and time and self. Myself only in my 70th year, I scarcely consider myself to be “old”. As the shortness of breath and the fatigue slip away, again, as I recover from the latest inflammation of the lungs, (I once gain am not taking the Albuterol, nor any other pills or medications, unless I might get a headache [unlikely] or a muscle cramp from over exercise [soon to be possible].) I forget about limitations.
I bought a new gadget from Microsoft that I am enjoying. I bought a stick computer made by Lenovo with no third-party software added. I may not be able to read Nook books on it until I straighten out where apps are loaded, as opposed to where I want them, but I can avoid storing backup files on Cloud by attaching a 1-T external HD to the powered USB hub. My plan is to use this computer, which uses the TV as a monitor/speaker system, for my personal writing. Which involves figuring adding the same User to all of my blogs, so that I do not have to battle with signing out/signing in.
I have loved computers since college and landed my first job, a position as a computer programmer within a month of graduating with a B.A. (in, oddly, English and philosophy). I shan’t talk about my preschool adventures taking apart my father’s prized console radio or my first career ambition, which was to be a pilot of a fighter plane. My parents did supply me with chemistry set and a real, working microscope while I was in grade school. In middle school I earned/saved enough to buy a reflector telescope. I didn’t abandon my telescope until marriage (in the 90s), since my husband has a scope with tracking and photo capabilities.
I don’t know if I will come back and complete this or not. The dogs have gone inside, and I assume that Al has returned home from great adventures. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯