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Showing posts from December, 2013

On this New Year's Eve....

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...I would like to stop to reflect on the year this has been and to thank those who have taken even the smallest of paths to walk with me in some way in my life.....and to thank them for allowing me to share in at least the tiniest part of theirs.  In the year's journey, as in each year, I have tried to look at the horizon and at what COULD be rather than to look down at my feet as I stumble through a tangled forest of roots and of rock in the darkness at often what IS....  In so doing, I have tried to focus and to write of each of the joys and of each of the small successes in my life.... and to avoid the temptation to render my falterings and failings as if they were tangible weights dragging behind and threatening to render the journey impossible. Far be it from me to say that this year has seen the culmination and fulfillment of plans I have laid forth, as I have tried to chart through the course of my entire life.  The odyssey has been a paradoxical adventu

"Stopping By a Gas Station on a Snowy Evening"

"Stopping By a Gas Station on a Snowy Evening" Whose snow-blower this is, I think I know It sits within my basement below. It will not start tomorrow I fear As my driveway starts to fill with snow. Inquisitive minds must think it queer When shoveling without a snow-blower near Between the garage and frozen street The plow will block me in I fear. I give the snow blower a ruffled shake Failing to start, is it some mistake? The reason is unmistakable I do fear There is no gas in it for goodness sake. The road is lonely, stark and white But I have a can to fill with gas tonight And miles to drive before I plow And miles to drive before I plow. From the original poem by Robert Frost, “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening” ...modified (with hopeful forgiveness by the original author) by Christen Bustani The original poem, in respect to the author, follows.... Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening Whose wood

Fallout

It was a blustery and breezy Sunday afternoon that Joanne and I found ourselves taking a few hours to escape the world for a quiet walk through the woods along a path around the shores of a mountain lake. The serenity and the sunshine dappling through the leaves brought a peace to my ever-restless soul. In a flash, the nature of that day changed when my cell phone's ring interrupted it abruptly. Looking at the display, I could see it was my youngest nephew “M”....my sister's youngest son. I hesitated for a moment to answer it as I thought of what this call would be about. I knew I never heard from him unless he needed something or unless he was upset by something. I thought, in that instant, of what likely lead up to this call. It had been about 3 weeks prior when my father called me to let me know that he had an unexpected visit from “M” out of the blue. Apparently he stopped by, according to my father, without calling ahead. I would have thought that with plannin