not four years since Carol died
thirty two years together 
then she was gone
a hospice bed in our living room
two days before helping her up the stairs
in the morning sliding herself 
down the stairs on her bum
no complaint anger fear
I called for a hospice bed
a week before planning a trip to spain
her daughters going with her
days later with friends at a mountain home
sitting down to dinner
a bite maybe two
she pushed back from the table

I can't do it

She laid on the couch
it was not just dinner she could not do
it was living she could not do
she knew she did not have much time
she tried
down the mountain to the emergency room
waiting tests scans
we need to admit you 
two nights in the hospital
why did I not sleep in her room why
I went home
she lay in a hospital bed alone
two days wednesday morning
sitting up in her bed
her daughter with us
three doctors entered three
why three doctors
they needed to break bad news
news she already knew

it's my exploding liver

yes it's your exploding liver
her daughter crying
we drove home
that night I caught a glimpse of her
sitting on the floor of her closet
trying to get ready for bed
she could not do that standing up
weakness overcoming her
next day outside in autumn sunshine
nurse consult - palliative care or hospice
it was to be hospice
that night hard time getting up the stairs
we should not have done it
I could have made her comfortable
next morning she slid herself down the steps
sliding step by step down
hospice - we need a bed today

esophageal cancer january 2019
you need a major operation
esophagectomy 
second opinion
yes you need the major operation
remove part of your stomach
your esophagus
what would that mean
you need to keep what's left open
to get food to what's left of your stomach
how how do I do that
slide this long blue silicone thing down your throat
it will help keep the way open
how can I do that down my throat
you can do it
I watched I could barely watch
she did it first time
she kept doing it
I knew she did it when
I heard her coughing hard

up in the mountains
at dinner with friends
she couldn't do it anymore
none of it
the eating the silicone thing
the living
she knew

months before one of those scans
I went with her to review results
we sat in a shitty sterile exam room
waiting for her doctor
months before he said
you are a miracle
she was
transcriber with him
the look on her masked face told
transcriber knew 
did not want to be in that room
it 
spreading through your liver
your lungs
your sternum
metastasis
all the chemo radiation major surgery
it 
spreading
then I knew
what I believe she knew
but did not say
I am dying
there isn't anything more I can do
it
is taking my life
months later she pushed back from the table

I can't do it

one week later
all she dearly loved at her bedside
hospice bed in our living room
it
was happening fast
it
not cancer anymore
it
dying and very soon

for months she would say
something seems stuck in my throat
she told a doctor
you should get an endoscopy
all those months she complained 
swallowing problems
she got the endoscopy
it is cancer
your esophagus
you need chemo radiation
major surgery
you should go to this other doctor
she can do a special treatment
she had this treatment
that doctor said the treatment was good
it was not good
metastasis spreading
metastasis - it
she was losing weight
beautiful dress she found at goodwill
her daughter's wedding
beautiful still her bones stuck out

covid just around the corner
thanksgiving sitting at an outside fire with family
we had moved to Portland
to be near her daughters 
granddaughter
six years old when we arrived
I am so grateful we made that move

she had the major operation
much of her stomach esophagus
taken from her
slowly walking down hospital corridors
soft foods liquids
careful stair steps up and down
without complaint 
never saying I will beat it
it was not her way
cancer a part of her
not her enemy
her

we sat together by an outdoor fire in the backyard
she brought her journals
tossed one page after another into the flames

you can never read my journals

I never did
how many more journals I found 
after she was gone so many
I fed all the pages to the fire
hundreds of pages
burned them all
she colored in unlined books
three little books filled with drawings
in a hand like a child
pages of drawings
during her last nine months
it was blossoming inside her
I didn't know of her drawings
she did not show them to me
I found them after she was gone
so many drawings of bridges
bridges to cross over
she knew
she was getting ready to cross over
a book on the table between us
the grace in dying
I saw it but didn't say anything
she would tell me what I needed to know
I read all her underlining in that book
before I took her ashes down to white river
in the presence of tahoma
let them go into the swirling river waters
she always said
I have to be near mountains

I can't move

two days before she slid herself down the stairs
three weeks before at the Oregon coast
sitting on the beach by the fire
all family around the beach fire
sitting in her window seat
dunes ocean sky

I can't move

my caregiver support group
she is doing well
planning a trip to Spain with her daughters
next week
I have to tell you
she died

I think this is it

I can't move

I enrolled in a caregiver support group
I didn't tell her
I was afraid to
it would be admitting she needed a caregiver
one day I said
I've been in a caregiver support group
of course
that is what you are
why had I been afraid to tell her

I think this is it

her memorial service
older brother in the back corner
sobbing uncontrollably
oldest daughter sitting on the floor at my feet
supporting me as I told our friends 
her last moments last words

close to the end I stroked her bristled head
that feels good that feels good

we wandered all over italy together
ireland finland israel
france england scotland rhine river
prague with one daughter
camino with the other
france with daughters granddaughter 
always up for a trip anywhere
she had one more trip to take 

that feels good that feels good

we met in Carson City
her girls were little then
I did not know her well
she danced in church
formed a troupe of women
she was lovely and graceful
she danced wherever she could
our living room 
brushing her teeth
it didn't matter where
I went to a house party
she was there we talked
long time chatting
I did not want to stop talking
stop looking at her
she had sparkles in her hair
years later I asked
did you put sparkles in you hair that night
no that was just my hair
I went on to seminary
ordained a priest
years later
transferred to Reno
Carson City just down the road
we saw each other at a reception
we talked long we talked
priest and beautiful woman
together we drove to a friend's house
New Years 1990
I had already fallen for her
perhaps she for me
we married a year later

death doesn't stop the world
it's affairs go on
documents certificates wills
hardly a days rest from it all
mourning would take a back seat
a back seat also to seattle 
I had to start moving
why did I have to start moving
for better or worse
I had decided

this is how I wanted it to be
I love you all

heartbreaking scenes
I'd never told anyone
sliding herself down the stairs
one short trip in a wheelchair
hospice bed to bathroom
I helped her to the toilet 
she was not able to
wheelchair back to bed
helping her up
lifting her legs sliding them onto the bed
under the covers

I thought grieving was about her dying
so much more
all that we shared together
seeing her lovely face at table
knowing her sleeping beside me
I grieve my own loneliness
her not having the full life she wanted
see her granddaughter graduate
maybe great-grandkids
I mourn my loss
my life companion
my best friend 
my spiritual soulmate

I am finally taking time away 
from doing one thing after another
moving selling stuff giving stuff away
accumulation of stuff from a lifetime with another
so many of her things
me making daughters and granddaughter 
sixteen years old
come to look through her things
to see what they would take
where is granddaughter 
in the bathroom crying
more than an hour
why did I put her through that
why didn't I slow down wait

I didn't wait
I am here now
I can't make it up
I mourn for what I might have done better

we were all at her bedside
she lay dying
raising her up to take morphine under her tongue

help 
barely whispered

we hadn't given her enough morphine
she didn't need to feel that pain
her eyes closed
clear cool day late September 
lowering sun out the front window
ponderosa pine japanese maple
late afternoon
for some stupid reason I was doing the laundry
what was wrong with me
it was Saturday I felt I had to do the damn laundry
I told everyone I was going downstairs 
to get the laundry the stupid laundry
as my wife was so near death

wait - I heard her daughter say
something has changed

the hospice nurse had come
she is in comatose state
her breathing deep raspy
chest heaving

wait 
something has changed
 
I turned to see her body become
calm quiet still
four breaths 
they were her body's last

is she dead
yes she is

September 24 2022
she had worked so hard 
ten thousand steps 
outside around the dining table
into the living room
short walk we took near the house
so close just around the corner
she had to stop sit rest
before turning the corner

she couldn't move 
eyes closed
we knew her end was near
she opened her eyes
smiled
faintest smile

hello

her eyes opened to the window
where the trees were 
autumn low light through the trees
branches and leaves
blue sky

hello
hello

no one dared ask who's there

goodbye

she closed her lips smile gone
she said goodbye
hello to who we could not know
goodbye dear
she was gone
I try to imagine who she saw
of course I'll not know
she was faithful to her spiritual path
perhaps dame julian or brother francis
I remain on my path
trying to be faithful to my way and her memory

her body ended its work after a time
by then she
who she was 
had left us 
soul essence spirit flew
her body took time
winding down it's beautiful work
we sat talking crying
I called hospice
she is gone
she said goodbye 

I have stepped back
needing to do so
for my self
to regain myself
what now?
I'll sit awhile. 
I have time
as much as I need.
How much do I need?
I cannot know
until it appears
be it in mind
circumstance
change.
I will know
if
I move not so fast
as before I have.
I bow before what is.

The long ritual of mourning
is a mystery and a way.
Not to recover from loss
but to awaken to life
where memory lives
and loss enriches the soul.

Old spiritual mores
that once informed sacred traditions
acting to guide through life's liminal spaces 
are lost. We must find our own ways.

In time I will set my feet under me
step again onto the path
the one I lost in my headlong rush 
to be done with all that
yet the Way did not lose me.

I will find my way
by taking the time I'm taking
sitting still breathing 
watching with branches and leaves 
the fullness of spring arrive.
No more headlong rush
into places I've fallen.
When my waters have settled
becoming still and clear once again
then I may take another step.

I woke in a fog this morning
Seven Bridges Road making tracks in my head.
I couldn't remember lyrics
only ...down the seven bridges road...

Why Seven Bridges Road?
Surely there could be no particular reason
no deeper meaning for this lovely
grace-filled soulful tune to come to me
out of the deep hours of night?

I am not so sure.
There are coincidences, surely, yet
too ready a reliance on coincidence
we may miss deeper reverberations
happening at the intersection of Spirit and life.

Writing about my wife's death has brought her last days and moments powerfully back to me.
Three years I avoided looking at her drawing books.
I couldn't.  I thought, no, I can't. 
She enjoyed drawing but in the hand of a child.
I opened her drawing books days ago.

I knew what her drawings showed.
She was not subtle. She understood bridges,
bridges and their place in the spiritual life,
ways to cross over to the other side.
Most of her drawings had bridges in them.
She was getting ready to walk 
down seven bridges road.

Seven bridges road
Steve Young's ode to the mystery of life
roads we take willingly or unwillingly
roads we run from or run down
the blind and hesitant steps we take along the way.

Did my wife choose Seven Bridges Road to speak to me?
No. The Spirit, however, of that I am not so sure.

I ought to be clear about something
regarding this name I've taken in earnest - Korin.
It was given me to mean, "Ancient Forest."
Korin is not, as far as I know, a Japanese name,
rather, it is a dharma name
derived from two kanji characters
which could as well mean something other 
than the meaning chosen by my teacher.
How she came to honor me with this name
she will not say. I have not asked.
I like the name, its pleasing sound.
It makes me happy to hear me addressed so.
Some have said it suits me.
Why it suits is a mystery and will remain so.

The ascribed meaning is lovely.
I've been in a few ancient forests.
How, though, am I like an ancient forest?
Do I deserve such a name?
I am most decidedly old now but ancient hardly applies!
Admittedly, I find it difficult to understand.
In their great stands the truly ancient forests
are magnificent, green, soft underfoot, populated by all manner
of flora, fauna, mythical and other mystical creatures.
I will always consider the Hoh Rainforest
as chief among the ancient forests of this continent. 
The moss is thick, trees majestic,
streams clear, wildlife abundant.
It is beyond me to see myself in such august company
in their serene, green, pristine wildness.

I am of the human species
going about soft side out
needing all manner of aids to help me survive
even in a warm and well-stocked condo.
No. I do not see it, except for this:

There is something in me
that is green, clear, wild, beautiful;
something ancient born of generations 
back through immemorial time.
So do we all have an ancient forest in us -
mysterious, misty, silent, still, deeply verdantly alive. 

Might we all raise our leafy and needled branches
into the clear clean fragrant air
that steals through every living cell and fiber
of the very old and very sacred
ancient forest within us all!

what is mind
but the natural way
not forcing
accepting things as they are
not trying to change what is
Dao the way
it is in zen
we do not speak of it
that is the way it is
I will practice myself
natural mind
flowing 
yielding open not resisting
these are not my words
but Lao Tsu the master
I do not fully understand how
I vow to try to understand 
it won't be easy
all my life not living the natural way
timid fearful slow ignorant
of how to become who I am
a stranger to myself
I see myself now
discovering this person
this Korin who has
breathed new life into me
take a deep breath
let it all go
let it go.

Brightest star in our night sky
8.6 light years away
I can see it
Out there to the south and up a bit
8.6 years ago its light I see now
Started on its way to me
Have we been making this up
My zen friends and I

How long ago did they make up
Sirius, the Dog Star, binary star
Brighter than our star sun
25 times brighter
Sirius the Dog Star
Has been out there far longer than Zen

I don't mean to be cute or clever
I just want to recognize what is
And isn't that the whole purpose
Of Zen

We keep turning round and round
Sirius, the Dog Star, will be 'round tomorrow night too
And all day for that matter
New found love have I for dogs and stars.

Zen emptiness
Empty meaning
Empty self
Empty love
Can empty words
Fill empty souls
Sun is setting
Spring eve is clear
Wine is good
Can these be empty
Filling an empty soul

Why have you gotten up and left
leaving your chair by my side?
Will you not come back to sit with me?
Of course I know
you cannot return. 
Your last word
Goodbye. 
Then you were gone.

Your chair is empty still.
Often, in the night or on waking,
I sense someone is with me.
There is no one.
All told me to wait
but I did not wait long
I did not know how to do it well
to grieve and to let you go.

I am a spiritual being
in me all around me spirit
beings grasses birds all
not a thing that is not
star cloud universe
all with me creating
our exquisite masterpiece
I can explain none of it
no book sutra commentary
although they try can explain
this body mind I am
led astray in theory abstraction
zen words stories patriarchs
none know this
can explain this
that I am.