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Tag: aging parents

elegy for a tomatillo … and Steve Jobs

Posted on October 6, 2011October 17, 2015 by Crescent Dragonwagon

We planned to go for a walk at twilight tonight, David and I, but when we stepped outside the dusk was chillier than we'd anticipated. "I wonder if I should go check the forecast," he said. "Yeah, you should," I said, "because if it's going to get below freezing we probably need to do some…

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Aunt Dot & the Splendid Sunflowers

Posted on June 25, 2011October 17, 2015 by Crescent Dragonwagon

When I came to 410 East 57th Street that night, it was already dark, but not late. Early winter, then, it must have been, maybe about 7:30 or 8:00. A Sunday evening.  Aunt Dot, then 95 or 96, was seated facing into the living room, in one of the two 50’s-era Danish modern recliner chairs…

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a sound of wings unseen, inadvertent wisdom: a fathering day post

Posted on June 20, 2010 by Crescent Dragonwagon

Walking yesterday, up near Frazier's sugar shack here in Vermont, I heard an animal rustle in the underbrush edging the woods by the gravel road. Though I stood stock-still and watched, I couldn't see what it was. Too large for a chipmunk or a squirrel, smaller by far than a deer, I was left only…

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the deer’s ears: Mose, me, misery & moments

Posted on May 31, 2010 by Crescent Dragonwagon

Today, coming down to the hill towards the pond, beginning my morning walk, two animals — one large, one small — standing in the middle of the gravel road. I caught my breath, stood stock-still, blinked and waited, blinking a few times to clear my not-so-good vision so I could identify them. Ah. A white-tailed…

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Redecoration, Part One: Aunt Dot contemplates the living room of the future

Posted on October 12, 2009 by Crescent Dragonwagon

“I suppose you’ll live here one day?” Aunt Dot said. A statement; a question. She gave a quick, birdlike glance at me, then looked away. Waiting, I naturally assumed, for an answer. But how could I answer when I wasn’t sure what the question was? She was sitting, that night, on the wooden chair with…

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several big “O”s (including, but not limited to, October and Obama)

Posted on October 23, 2008 by Crescent Dragonwagon

It is the best of times; it is the worst of times. It is October in Vermont. It is an election year (and what an election). It is the month of the year that was Ned’s last full month on earth. The best: the transition of the leaves from verdant to plush flame, fuchsia, gold,…

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