Returning to San Francisco after another week in Coos Bay cleaning our mother's house. Almost done with a lifetime of memories. It's as though my brother and I have take. A trip to the past fueled by coffee, tears, good beer and friends. It's our own past we are dissecting too. While we have had fun and become closer we are both grateful to return to our families and to jobs we love.

We miss our mom but know she would be proud of us and the job we have done. Still, I'd rather have her alive. We are taking off now so I'll close. I am glad my brother and I are together - it's been so fun and easier together.

Aloha.

Making an Imu or Lovo (Underground Oven)

Aloha - for our July 1-5 family reunion I am making an underground oven. In Hawai'i it is called an Imu and in Fiji it is called a lovo. We cook a pig and root crops traditionally but you can cook anything this way obviously. I'll put a few chickens in the ground also.

So I am excited to be able to share this tradition with anyone but even more with family. Many of them I do not know well but for America this is often the case. Pictures and music will accompany the Imu I hope and will post them here.

David

Changes are Afoot

Aloha and too long without an entry but as is so often the case I feel that I lack anything of importance to impart - often not true at all when thought about and written with some dedication and craft.

I have applied again to the Peace Corps but with my fiance. Hard to believe but there the facts are. It is taking me some work to get used to all this.

I have also inquired about transferring to the Tripler Army Medical Center Emergency Room as a VA nurse. We go to Kauai in August 2011 and after that will be on Oahu to see friends and interview.

Who knows what will come of all this but possibilities abound.

Debt is disappearing with much work and help. Once we sell my mother's house and close here estate we will be free to leave. Free at last, no debt, no ties, no worries about much that was an issue in the past.

Enough, sleep beckons.

One's outlook is significantly altered when the end of one's life is in view or closer. I speak not of my immediate end but that philosophical contemplation of the end of one's life. Prompted in part by the death of my father in 1999 and my mother in August 2010. Being an orphan is not exactly correct as one dictionary defines it as: a child whose parents are dead. I am not a child. But when parents die one feels as if they are a child in some ways, once again. I remain unsure as to my point at this moment, tired after a day working in the emergency room. But I do know that I miss my mother and father. Life consist of great longing and yet of fulfillment too. It would have been my mother's birthday this last April 9. I miss her.

I'll not be alone tonight.
You'll be in my conscious thinking dreams
as I lay awake and pondering what it could mean to love you.

It is no idle threat of mine,
this possible love carried to you
in a bucket brimming with possibilities
spilling over with ideas of what it could mean to love you

You will be wondering now who the hell is this man?
who does he think he knows
about what it could mean to love me?

It lies in a realm of choices made and unmade,
each decision a rent and tear in quantum fabric of bubbling space,
ricocheting down the corridors of time and doors
each opening to a differing idea of what it might mean to love you.

What I really want
is for you to think about . . .
what it may mean for you to love me.
I know I could love you - selfish man that I am.

So open that door into your heart and open that heart to me.
Change the nature of our reality
where love just is
as it is wont to be.

Updates

Aloha - I am living almost full time in San Francisco now in the Outer Richmond on 43rd Avenue right near the San Francisco VA Hospital, also known as Fort Miley. I can park my car at the VA and then just walk to work and home in about five minutes.

That has always been a goal that I have been able to fulfill - to not commute and risk my life on the freeway on a daily basis. It is a great thing to not pollute so much and live with a sense of place and neighborhood. This said, it still is not my favorite place but it will do as these things go. I have my coffee shop, 'my' local movie theater and best of all my brother and family lives in the city. This has been a gift.

So I turned a half century last year. My mother died and I became an orphan. That is strange, bringing new meaning, an additional layer of complexity to a multilayered life of the same. My search for meaning continues, realizing that the search will never end and the lingering sense of disatisfaction is what drives me and enriches existence. All selfish things but there you are.

I won't be an RN at the VA forever. Nor in the ER. There is so much to do, places to be and people to be with. Still a journey, unending, cautious, free, unknowable and precious beyond knowing and believing at times.

I am blessed and lucky. I know how fast it can and will change.

David

Paying off Debt

Philosophically against debt I nonetheless have too much debt. So it is a welcome feeling to have paid off over $1500 of credit card debt in one month. In part due to a healthy Federal and State tax refund. Paid off some credit card debt, dental and other bills and a good amount into savings - over $1500 to build up the up till now mostly nonexistent cash reserve. In addition I am saving over $1300 a month into my Federal Retirement through the VA and they match that with five percent.

All quotidian details of my life but meaningful to me and an indication that I am somewhat more financially responsible then the past. My debts pale in comparison to others but for me it is a stone cold yoke of lead around my neck. That is it for now, too late and tired for more but wanting to write more . . . as always.

Growing up in Germany, 1967

 

Windy night in San Francisco so beautiful in it's power the ionic energy … almost like I can feel and visualize the charged ions whipping about and caressing. I like the feeling of an oncoming storm, the whispered promises it holds and contemplating my futures, wondering what will be and not.

I'm reading Steve Martin's book, Object of Beauty. His writing touches my heart, resonates. Echoes blithely around in my chest saying this is you, it could be or it was or you want this or what? Like some heretofore hidden desire suddenly lies exposed to you like a vein of gold or a rock in the sea your sailboat is headed straight for. Danger filled with love, fear co-mingled with delight and passion and in an instant this is a certainty…that you know, at last, that life is revealed to you, that this is what it is about and now finally at last, yes this is really really it.

Search for this, revel in it, don't let go.

Thanks for reading.

Taking Apart our Mother's Life

Aloha - my brother (Paul) and I are in Coos Bay, Oregon this week. I am writing while in Sozo's Coffee Shop which is one of the very best coffee shops I have ever been in around the globe. Absolutely great food, good service, chic but homey and the barista's are excellent. I recommend enjoying yourself here if for some crazy reason you are passing through.

Our mum died August 21, 2010 - just a bit more than five months ago now. This is our first time back to her house since her death. We are beginning to take apart her life, cleaning out her memories, incorporating them into our own memories and re-remembering things we may have forgotten.

It is like taking this big chunk of data apart and the little bits of flotsam and jetsam that make up our lives drifts back into the data sphere. Some things to the dump and then to the landfill, some to Goodwill - the re-purposing of data, the bytes that make up our lives. We spend our whole life collecting this data, identifying with and making it 'us'. As our lives end, if we are lucky we get to shed this data stuff ourselves, to choose what we relieve ourselves of till death takes us. Then, entropy. Data dissolution speeds up and soon all that is left is memories held in others minds and the solid bytes of data are scattered to the winds.

For my mother one of the most tangible things are her paintings and stories. The stories are less solid in some way. It was difficult to throw away twenty copies of some of her stories into the recycle bin at the dump. We simply cannot keep that much data, that much physical manifestation of my mothers soul, of her life. We have her computer and I hope that much of it is on her hard drive. I rescued copies of her smaller stories but will I read them again? Will anyone? Does it matter?

But the paintings . . . they remain. Some will perish but others . . . and I hope the good ones will populate the landscape of the world for some time. I hope that I will run into some of them at some distant point in the future and remember my mother. We have the ones we want, a few of them good and many of them not very good at all. But they are her and we are all not so good at some things in our lives.

The sheer volume of 'stuff' is really amazing. We dig and dig and dig again. Layers of data of a life of 78 years and we still mourn and miss our mother.

Legion of Honor, San Francisco.

Legion of Honor

At the exhibition of Japanese Wood block prints at the Legion of Honor in San Francisco. Hundreds of them and oh so beautiful. Makes me remember the Jone Gibbs collection in Kaneohe, Hawai'i!

Zip's old man ride

United States Veterans Day

I received a letter from a friend about Veterans Day and what follows is my response:

Aloha . . . thanks for thinking of the vets today. I worked the ER today at the San Francisco Veterans Administration Hospital Emergency Room, so of course they were on my mind too.

I liked Born on the Fourth of July but my only caveat is that it does a great disservice to the VA as it exist NOW. Since the time that the book/film came into existence so much at the VA has changed and is now known for the level and quality of its care. I saw this quality when I was hired and as I learn more I am only regretful that I cannot obtain my care at the VA. The rank and file of the Republicans/Tea Party mad hatters rail against Socialized Medicine but this is exactly what the VA is and does so very well. Even the neocons and the rest of the anti-intellectual movement in this country will usually praise the VA (perhaps because to Not do so would be considered unpatriotic in their minds).

This is not to say the VA is the best or perfect. But I will say we are good, we are dedicated and we care. There is not pushing people out the door due to insurance, we have had electronic charting for almost 20 years and most of all, the vets want to be here and are very satisfied (for the most part!) with their care here.

We have asked these brave women and men to do terrible things for their 'country' , their corporatocracy (I cannot help but inject my own opinion into this of course) and I believe that we owe them the care promised them by a 'grateful nation'. If I discuss this with old line warriors they are among the most vocal and vociferously antiwar folks you will ever meet. If only the ones that send those into war were the first on the ground with their families . . . then war would be shorter but it will never cease.

We will always need those who are willing to step into the breach and I will always thank them for their duty. But that duty, however well executed, does not excuse anyone from my our duty to speak up and condemn the war machine, the military-industrial complex, death and the dark desires that drive men to kill, rape and destroy.

I treat veterans of World War II that at this moment, sixty five years later are having Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) rear its ugly symptoms for the first time or reoccur after so many intervening years. My job is secure - as long as Presidents, Prime Ministers and leaders are mongering for war - my job is secure. We all pay for sins of our leaders in one way or another.

I'm not sure why I have said so much but perhaps it is my way of working out my own demons from what I have done, seen and heard from the people I serve. I'll take any chance at all to extol their service and sacrifice while I object to violence and war itself. I do not believe these things are mutually exclusive.

Thank you for reading this and for your activism and service. It is appreciated.

Aloha,

David

I am reading a very good book now called:

Best Care Anywhere - Why VA Health Care is Better Then Yours
by Phillip Longman

It is not for me that I write these word my love
Although I love you.
The dawn breaks in spite of my love for you
Yes, I want it to stop
For my love to rule all
And you to know
That in spite of my love
The moon will rise
Oceans arms encircle Jupiter
Love will not conquer all
And the love borne for you
Means nothing without being borne out by action.

Yes, I'll stroll the beach
To whisper platitudes in your ear
Nibbling at the edges of your hearts
Round stones polished by wave and tide
Hardening my heart
Breaking my love.

David McCullough
October 6, 2010

Every time someone dies it seems that the death adds to the burden of sadness and pain that one accumulates through life. The tears I've shed cease to be just for the one that has died but are shed for the many and perhaps for myself.

I have had intimations of my own mortality.

I have had intimations of my own mortality.
Not willfully but thrust upon me by life's cadence.

It's endless march of life and death
The slow wheeling of the seasons.
A crisp river frozen In moonlight,
Birds nest hanging
Bird in flight

Your face leaned over me in ecstatic repose
Drinking in life without delay.

I suppose we do all possible
To escape that day,
To live again without thought or care
In time but not of it
Imagining and struggling to loosen it's meaningful bonds that tie us to each other
To the earth where we will rest
To once more become part of that
Whence we came.

I have intimations of my mortality
And struggle for acceptance
Yet to stave off death may not be so sweet
As the moments and years and decades that make a life.

It is that time between death and birth
That drives us in our search for meaning
For love
Fulfillment
Commitment to a cause greater than ourself
To a life filled with meaning and
A death that has been filled with love
A life that has been well lived

Echoes of our own mortality
Intimations of my own mortality
Resound upon the water
The meadow
My heart held by your love
Eyes locked to yours
Hand to hand
Heart to heart
Beating
Holding
Loving.

David McCullough
September 17, 2010

My drive to San Francisco!

A poem on My mothers Death

Thanks for letting me share this with you. I hope that everyone is happy and well.

Our mother died today
1736 time marked out by her last breath
So our memories flow freely now
Unencumbered by her rattling breaths
A valiant heart struggling to maintain
What cannot be.

Memories of her sun soaked tea
Sweet pickled watermelon rinds
Endless baked treats brought to
Endless 4-H meetings
Ferried about as we were by her
Our lives hers
Her life was ours and now…
Now we are alone with her body
And our memories
Of what it is
To be our mothers sons.

David Michael McCullough

Toward the very end my mother would try so hard to say thank you to anyone who helped her. I'm here next to her at this moment, holding her hand at 3:30 a.m. Death seems a peculiar kind of loneliness. She is not alone but is on this journey.

My mother's brain so beautiful in it's constant creativity. Now invaded by bony cancer sending her thoughts careening into unimaginable places. Weaver, writer, artist, teacher, cook, wife, mother, sculptor and more. Not yet gone but fading away as I watch and wait.

At times it seems these days pass as if in a dream while one close to you dies.

The light upon the water,
Rays of sunlit joy upon the salty seas of home,
All these things shall last
As I will not
As my mother will not
As my brother will not
As my father did not.

But this caring of mine?
It will not last nor should it
For others should care.

Others should gaze upon sunlit rays wandering upon the oceans
The fish underneath
The stars wheeling overhead
In their timeless Soaring dance

As the seasons
As you
As I
Disappear into the sandy shores
Distant islands as souls
Scattered upon their star studded shores

The waves lap and careen and crash
I'll be waiting somewhere I think
I'll want to know you see
What happens to it all

To you, to me, the world
The people we loved
And once were.

This sun, through clouds,
Burnishes the golden Bridge
Carrying me home
Where memory lives.

Post Holiday Blues

The dreaded post holiday blues are back. One wonders how one can exist faced with the somewhat dull humdrum repetition of ordinary existence. Grateful in one second yet filled with the angst of god how I wish it could all be different and exciting ALL the time instead of just sporadically.

I AM glad to be back. Really I am, good if not great to see my mom. Dying as she is so gracefully she is not in any pain. All those frenzied preparations I made prior to my departure on holiday were not in vain and things go better than expected. But I come 'home' to grey skies in the San Francisco area, overcast, cold, cloudy, dull, boring. We hates it forever as Gollum from The Hobbit would say.

So I feel petty in the same moment feeling this way. Not that my life lacks meaning because I have so much meaning with my work and especially my friends all around the globe.

I am back to not having enough time in my day to accomplish everything I need or want to. I live in two places at once when I just want to live in one place which is on the Ridge, the coast, safely elevated above the fog for much of the time!

All in all I lead a happy life not consumed with worry about food, water or safety. That means a lot. It is a charmed life in so many ways and one I am grateful for. Yet I yearn for challenge (other than that of my mother dying) and an opportunity to live more simply and to give more to others. That is what partly drove me to Peace Corps over, dare I say it, THIRTY years ago and continues to drive me till the day my death comes.

What it Means to be Back

It is good to be back but I find myself longing for that sense of Peace Corps excitement and purpose, that frisson, so to speak of unknowing and the excitement engendered by it. Working overseas provides that, at least for me and I find myself still longing for it . . . and I realize that I will for the rest of my life.

This is the challenge many of us face - how do you reconcile the needs of life - i.e., what you must do versus one's dreams? This is said with the full knowledge that simply having this chance to even wonder is a gift in and of itself. I don't struggle for food, water or shelter. I don't worry about armed conflict or bad people coming to take me away in the early nightmare hours.

Times will change for America with the inevitability of the centuries passing . . . but I do not see this coming down for years. If I am lucky, I'll be dead by then.

Home it's said, lies where the heart is. While mine lies in no particular place I've come to realize home is where my love lies. That is with the people that I love and they are scattered across the face of this planet. I may favor some physical locations but truly I am tied to people who have imbued places with memory and meaning.

View from my stool in Budapest

Need I say more? Ahhhhhh!