My personal path


There’s challenge going around on Facebook that requires the person tagged to list the ten books that have had the greatest influence on them. Well, given my anarchistic tendencies, my list contains 16 books.

On the Road, Jack Kerouac
Catch-22, Joseph Heller
Slaughterhouse-Five, Kurt Vonnegut
The Autobiography of Malcolm X, Malcolm X
Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas: A Savage Journey to the Heart of the American Dream, Hunter S. Thompson
Another Roadside Attraction, Tom Robbins
Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, Douglas Adams
A People’s History of the United States: 1492 to Present, Howard Zinn
Long Walk to Freedom, Nelson Mandela
The Lord of the Rings, J.R.R. Tolkien
Waking Up: Overcoming the Obstacles to Human Potential, Charles Tart
The Way of the Superior Man: A Spiritual Guide to Mastering the Challenges of Women, Work, and Sexual Desire, David Deida
Callings: Finding and Following an Authentic Life, Gregg Levoy
The Four Agreements: A Practical Guide to Personal Freedom, Don Miguel Ruiz
Radical Parenting: Seven Steps to a Functional Family in a Dysfunctional World, Brad Blanton
Everyday Blessings: The Inner Work of Mindful Parenting, Myla Kabat-Zinn and Jon Kabat-Zinn

So what books are on your list? You’re welcome to include them in the comments section.

One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice—
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
“Mend my life!”
each voice cried.
But you didn’t stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world
determined to do
the only thing you could do—
determined to save
the only life you could save.

Around the first of the year I asked my 88-year-old mother Sue a daunting question: “Are you ready to go?” This once powerful, dynamic, high-energy woman had fallen several times over the past few years, breaking both her ankles in one of them. As she’d slowed down and become less self-reliant, she also became more and more withdrawn and reclusive, spending most of her time in her recliner, the phone and TV set her primary connection with the outside world.

Mom briefly pondered the question, then answered, “No, not yet.”

mom_dad

Dad & Mom

Nonetheless, a few months later, I believe Mom decided it was time to go. And she did.

Mom fell and broke her leg and hip at her home on May 3, yet somehow managed to get to the phone to call Nancy and Mike, who immediately took her to the Harton Regional Medical Center emergency room. The next day Mom had successful surgery, and two days later she was moved to the Life Care Center next to the hospital to rest and rehabilitate. Mom seemed to be making excellent progress when Nancy got a call on the night of Sunday, May 19 reporting that she’d had a stroke and was being readmitted to the hospital.

As a result of the stroke, Mom was completely paralyzed on her left side and couldn’t swallow. She could still talk though her words were slurred. Nancy was with Mom most of this time, and Shonnie, Gracelyn and I got to Tullahoma on Tuesday. The next day, Mom seemed content and happy just to have us all around her, while the hospital staff worked diligently with her to get her to swallow to no avail.

Thursday morning Mom was unresponsive to any stimuli. Unconscious with no movement on either side, Dr. Bills confirmed that she had had another stroke and had also developed pneumonia in one lung. She seemed very peaceful and ready to take the next step in this journey we call life. (more…)

My mother Callie Sue Tilghman Mulkey passed away yesterday at the age of 88. Below is a poem that I shared last night at an impromptu gathering of our clan.

Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep
by Mary Elizabeth Frye

Mom at our wedding 14 years ago.

Mom at our wedding 14 years ago.

Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there; I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow,
I am the sun on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning’s hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circling flight.
I am the soft starlight at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there; I did not die.

 

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