Being Wise Thirty-four

                                 Judy and Mikhail     1992 Kostroma, Russia

Being Wise Thirty-Four

September 26, 2021

It has been what? Nine years?

I don’t think he has ever asked

for new glasses, or not for years.

That’s the expensive part. I paid

for these. They’ve lasted, even

when I fell and bent them. Tough,

like me, like you. You had trouble

speaking except about my eyes.

When I did the eye test for your

assistant, I couldn’t see the letters

with my right eye, only with the

left. I think I was having a brain

bleed, like I had last Monday night.

I was upset then and couldn’t read

the page numbers. I’d learned he

was retiring. I asked if he wanted

to. He said yes. Could he recommend

another eye doctor? No, but they’d

assign me one. He studied my eyes,

now dilated. Then he said, “There’s

no problem. They’re normal. They’re

fine." I told him about my new disease,

the little brain bleeds. I think they

happened for his assistant, not for him.

We entered the territory of the sacred.

He loved it that I’d given him a book.

He remembered that I was self-

publishing. He said, “You must keep

working." I said, “I am. I will."

Being Wise Thirty-Three

                                                         Judy by Emma Tobin. 

Being Wise Thirty-Three September 19, 2021

Fog today, they say, but no rain.

High eighties, then rain and cooler.

I gave up driving, but that requires

patience again and again. I learn

to wait, to calm myself, trust my

helpers to come through, to get it

right, remind myself of all that is

going well. I can still read and 

write. I walk better. I’m teaching

and learning. I have enough money

and work I love. No serious complaints.

I’ll die one day, but not yet. I eat well,

sleep well, if not predictably. We edge

toward winter. I ordered fat wood.

The stove is clean and ready to fire up.

The vegetable garden is still producing

a few tomatoes, some okra. Not

everything is possible, but the important

things still are. I can speak, and

people listen.

Being Wise Thirty-Two

Judy by her sister Margie, August 2021 in computer chair

Being Wise Thirty-Two September 12, 2021

I keep falling asleep when I’m

trying to work, or not sleeping 

when I want to. So I keep midnight

hours and make more typos. It’s

my brain refusing me the competence

I’ve always had until now. My

helpers hold my hand tight, carry

heavy things for me. My students

still want me to teach them. I tell them

if I make a mistake, tell me. My mind

is less under my control. It has its

own agenda, its own time-table, its own

rebellions. The creeping green leaves 

curled around my computer, live, but

there are dead leaves, too, when they

lose the sun. We all need sun and

patience, not to mention persistence.

Keep reading even if I do fall asleep.

People love you, even your doctor,

who worries. She knows too much,

and it scares her. Too many youngsters

are sick with this Covid. But she worries

over an eighty-four-year old woman,

and my favorite physical therapist

praises me and eggs me on. She sees

through me and believes in my mastery

of walking. I practice “left foot, heel

first.”The cane comes down when

the left heel does. I still have a ways

to go. Hang on.

 

Being Wise Thirty-One

                        Portrait of Judy by Debbie Meyer Summer 2021. 

                Being Wise Thirty-One September 5, 2021

I will die. I don’t want to think about it. 

as it comes into my dreams and holds me

in its grip. Will I suffer or just feel weak

and lose my fight, my will to win? I can’t 

even remember my dream, just the way

it held me captive. I felt needy. I had to get

away, but I couldn’t. I’ve done what I

wanted to do, what I needed to do. One

more big book to get out. Can I manage

that? I’ll try. I’ll make bread today. I’ll

put the two halves of my last book back

together. I’ll teach my classes. These

may be the last, but I’ll give them my

best effort. I’ll keep writing poems.

They’re still coming. I won’t change

the way I am. The big world around

me is staggering. Too many people 

are without the food and shelter they

need. No money, no work, no hope in

their future. I have food and shelter,

and loving people to help me. I’ll do

all I can now. I’m not helpless yet.