Bowing In Unison

Art by Elliott Aaron From

We are trees, grounded, lifted, nourished in some seasons, shedding in others. We all dance in the winds of our beginnings, hoping to be rooted deeply enough to stand tall, endure the chaotic winds that bully us, and harsh storms that attempt to break us. 
We sink into the clay of our ancestry while reaching towards the divine light of individuation. 
We reach out in the heat of summer, endure the harsh winters to flourish again and again, and yet again, steeping in the sun, our tough exteriors penetrated. We bend to the challenges, shedding limbs of no purpose, sometimes violently, while allowing branches of meaning to strengthen and bloom. None of us is like another, each displaying its own hues, textures, shape of leaves and fullness of integrity. Swaying in the winds of change, collective are our wishes to return one day to wherever-- maybe to a place of understanding of why we landed in the soil we did, why we blossomed with those colors at that time, why we stood tall when others had fallen. 
We are all trees breathing, stretching, bowing in unison to the mother that receives us, the father that calls us. As our lush leaves flutter, dancing in the Earthly winds we hold hope that one day we will know for certain-- why we have been. 


Tricia Schwaba onset of 2024

There's Breakdown & There's Babies

There is a lot of breakdown and death near me these days. In the last month I have witnessed my cousin’s very slow walk to passing, my brother’s disease winning the fight as his body betraying him at an alarming rate while he sits in an “Assisted Living” facility, that I’m sorry to say does not feel like a living facility at all. My 95 year old neighbor’s near 70 year old son passed 4 days ago from brain cancer, his second bout, and man I know well diagnosed with cancer that is termed “aggressive”. Luckily this man is as strong-willed as the day is long so I think his cancer cells should be ready for quite the battle.

Nearing 60 myself and the youngest of eight siblings, my eldest brother 18 years my senior, I guess this is how it will likely go. I understand that uncertainty abounds on this subject and things can shake up and take turns that we would never expect, but at the least it is likely. My mom lived until a few weeks before her 94th birthday and I recall her saying, “Trish it gets lonely. You lose all your friends and when I get an unexpected call I can’t help but go there. Who is it this time? and then you realize it’s just you.” I distinctly recall the tone of the conversation, my mom not sad really, but accepting of the fact that she outlived almost everyone she knew. But not quite everyone. Her best friend, my Godmother, is 98 and possesses the sharpest of minds. I do not get to see her often but we talk every so often and my mom always comes up. “I miss your mom” she always says. “I do too” I respond. I can only imagine that she feels like my mom, possibly wondering why she has been so fortunate while so many others are not so lucky.

My neighbor said to me yesterday as I visited with him, sitting by his side with only my compassion & sympathy to offer, “It really should have been me. I’m 95 and I’m not supposed to outlive him. I hope the good lord has something in store for me” as his head hung heavy and I saw a hint of a tear. Then he picked his head up and looked out at the calm water of the bay we both share.

I have a long way to go to match the vibrance and vitality of my mom, my Godmother and my neighbor. They all resided, and in the case of my neighbor still resides, at least part of the year, in the northwoods of Wisconsin, breathing the fresh air, swimming in the clear waters and watching the trees sway in the winds. Maybe that’s one of the keys. I’ll guess I won’t know until it’s over. I only hope for myself, that no matter how long I’m here I can exist with my mind in tact and my body moving freely. If that’s the case I will welcome it. If not, well Ill cross that bridge when I come to it. In the mean time I breathe deeply and remind myself to feel gratitude for the day in front of me.

Last evening I got a call. As I picked up the phone I had a fleeting thought and my mom jumped into my mind, “No not another one”. It wasn’t another one. Turns out that my nephew & niece-in-law are expecting their second baby. And there you have it.

Tricia Schwaba, November 1, 2019

One Month to Live

Marley barked today. The surprising utterance was aimed at the people across the hall moving out their uncle’s/brother’s/friend’s stuff. It’s not so shocking that a dog would bark, it’s just that since we brought her home from the shelter one week ago, not a peep, so it was surprising. It lured me into the minds of those who prompted the bark. Todd who owns the condo is dying and it is his family and friends that are moving his possessions. He has diabetes and since we moved in a year and a half ago he has always seemed laden with discomfort. We live on the second floor and there is no elevator. His condition limited his mobility enough to require a lift to bring him to his door. I was always tempted to put my grocery bags on it and press on but it felt somehow disrespectful.  Todd was pleasant upon impromptu meetings but his pallor belied his cordiality. He didn't seem to have as many people around in his everyday life, as he does today. Sickness and impending death inspire responsibility to rise to the top. I have discovered that in the last few weeks.
 
I have suspected that Todd is gay. He receives a male visitor, occasionally, on weekends, a man about his age, I’m guessing 70. I may be wrong about his sexuality, but I don’t think so. If they are indeed gay, it must have been a tough evolution within their life spans. It is not easy now, with so much fear flowing about, so many having the narrow mindsets that inhibit inclusion and believing how they live is how everyone should live.

In a brief discussion with his nephew as I was taking Marley out for a walk I discovered his doctors predict he will be gone within one month’s time so they are moving him in with family for his life’s last breaths. I wonder if his friend will get to visit. I hope so. 

Everyone at some point will have one month to live. Most of us will not realize it but if we did I wonder what we would do with that month. Me? I would not travel or move frantically across the planet trying to see that which I have not yet seen. I would not go cliff jumping or do something physically daring. I would stay close to those I love and absorb nature’s offerings, drink good wine and eat delicious food, and try to laugh & dance as much as possible. That’s what I would do.  I blessedly realize that is what I do anyways, without the heaviness of a major life challenge. So I got that going for me.

Marley just barked again. She wants a treat. I get it girl.

Tricia Schwaba, 2013