Across the Bridge

Crossing the Bridge
Whitestone Bridge view from Brooklyn, NY

This sojourner has often wondered what purpose it would serve to write and photograph his experiences this past year.  He's debated frequently the notions of not writing and not photographing.  This morning was one such morning.  What purpose does this all serve?

As I pondered and attempted to select an image for today, I stumbled across this image shot from Brooklyn earlier this year.  My writing and my photography are both about my story.  The purpose it serves is quite simple;  my writing is nothing more than an open conduit to help others get to the other side.  It is a bridge to help others get through difficult and at times lengthy waters.

Life is filled with goodness, but at times we reach bodies of troubled waters.  We must navigate either through them or we must find bridges that can get us safely across.  To those that choose to listen and journey with me, I simply offer you a toll free bridge of my experience.  Perhaps it will save you time and discomfort.  You see I've already gone down this path.  I have the experience and you can lean on it and benefit from it.

Some might think that I am only dark.  No I am not dark, I am just a person trying desperately to find and follow his light.  I know that if there is night, day will follow.  Life moves on, the earth continues to spin, and this planet travels in it's galaxy through the universe.  Everything continues in motion.

For those of you who have been following my blogs, I extend to you my friendship and an open pass on my bridge.  The toll was prepaid by my experience and those before me.

Recipes & Remedies

At Home in the Kitchen

If I were to summarize my mother's 90 years of living, I would use two words:  recipes and remedies.  She was known for both.


Her best dishes included:  rice and pigeon peas (gandules), rice and red beans with calabaza (pumpkin), garbanzos with calabaza over rice, thin steaks smothered with onions, veggie meatballs, lasagna, chicken fricassee with potatoes, tostones, pasteles, corn beef with fries, coleslaw, turkey, tilapia, asopao, bacalao, flan, corn fritters, corn bread, corn pudding, tembleque de coco, coconut candy, rice pudding, bread pudding, fruit juices...  My mother knew exactly what were the favorite foods of each of her children, her husband, and friends.  By the way, we had to eat everything on our plate for fear of tuberculosis.  (You heard right.)

Mom's Hand

Mother was also a healer and shaman.  What she couldn't heal with over the counter medication, she would  reach out to her spiritual medicine cabinet and insert a liberal dosage of prayer.  Among her favorite medications she included:  Vicks Vapor Rub, rubbing alcohol, BenGay, Heat, AsperCreme or Sports Creme, herbal teas with lemon and honey, chicken soup, Pepto Bismol, prune juice, Milk of Magnesia, Epson Salts, Iodine, and Tylenol.  After liberal dosages of each she spent quite a bit of time on her knees and supplemented all medication with prayer.


It wont be long now, Mom will finally get to rest from her grueling work of cooking and healing.  She must have done a great job, we are all alive and well nourished and relatively healthy.  I think it's okay to let her rest now for a bit.

Mom

Josefina Hernandez

I wrote this blog last year in May.  Given the current circumstances, I've decided to repost it since I have added so many new followers and friends.  Mom is now in a nursing home awaiting the inevitable.  Regardless, she will always be Mom and will never be forgotten by us.

Mother's Day is just around the corner.  As the year's go by it becomes more difficult to find exactly the perfect gift for my mom.  At this point in her life, its quite pointless to buy her something; she has all she needs.   I am pretty much resigned to send her flowers which I know she would rather see and enjoy while she is still alive.

When I think about what I can do for her, what really comes to mind is to pay her homage while she yet is still alive.  My mother till this day is known for two things:  her fantastic cooking and her limitless capacity to generate friends.  (Between us, I think the two go hand in hand.)

My mother never really shared her recipes.   Everything was measured by her crooked finger.   In fact, I think she deliberately skips details as she tells you what is in her food.  She truthfully wanted you to come back for more of her food.

While I can't recite her cooking recipes;  I can, however, tell you her recipe for a good life.

Have a family, preferably, two daughters and son.  Stay married for sixty-seven years,  Sprinkle that marriage with hardships and season it with many family get togethers and festivities.  Stir in friendship to taste slowly and over time and add liberal amounts of aunts and uncles.  Put everything in a wonderful pot called a home.  Now let it all simmer over a lifetime.  Season it again with grandchildren and great grandchildren.  Add prayer every day, for your children, your husband, and for all those that you love.  Don't forget to feed your family and your friends as much as your heart and health permit.

She's up in years now.   She just turned 89.  Last year was a rough year for her.  She fractured her pelvis and during her recovery fractured her hip.  They replaced her hip.  While I thought that she would never walk again she continues to walk.  Yes she's feeble and sleeps more but she refuses to give up her kitchen.  I suppose that's a good thing.  You see I would like to eat one more meal prepared by those loving hands.

Happy Mother's Day

Life Streams

Streaming Life
Near Tannersville, NY

Life stops for no one.  Even when it appears to stop because of difficulty, life streams traverse the obstacles along its way.  Life not only has velocity it also charts along its own vector.    The flow keeps coming from an abundant source.  Sometimes we are the spectators along the shore and at other times we are adrift in the middle of a cascade.

We don't know where it will ultimately take us, but we feel the undulation as we step into its waters.  We sense the current that wants us to move with it.  Most of my life, I've spent resisting and fighting the current.  Lately, I've been learning to harness the its energy and to let life lead me both in velocity and vector.  In so doing, I conserve and renew my energy.  My body and mind are less fatigued.  The best thing I can do is tap into the energy source.

The roar of the water is getting louder now and I can sense what is around the next bend.  It's inevitable, but I am ready to follow the current.  I need to ride the stream to where ever it will lead.  There's no time to be afraid of the waters that I have chosen to navigate.  The shore is always near by.

The 4th

Tradition on the 4th
Deland, Florida

We all have traditions.  In this country we have a long standing tradition of commemorating the birth of our nation and the years since that we have kept its citizens free.  Today, we truly are a melting pot, a cross section of every country of the world.  We celebrate the fact that for one special occasion, all of us, together have something in common.

America, the beautiful, is not only the home of brave, but also the land of the free.  Liberty is simply a noun shared by a diverse group of people respecting the rights of each other.  We choose to be free and will fight if necessary to protect those truths which we truly hold evident such as life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

Regardless, of what others might say,  the best of times still lie ahead as we continue to become more diverse.  No other country comes close to replicating our success nor our mantra.  My father and his brothers served this country for that very reason,  one as a non combatant and the other as a combatant.  We honor those by preserving their memory keeping liberty's torch lit.

End of The Line

End of The Line
Red Hook, Brooklyn, NY

I would hate come to the end of my life to find out that I had not lived

Henry David Thoreau

Mom's journey is coming to an accelerated end.  We've been fortunate to enjoy her sense of humor for all these years and equally fortunate to have been well fed by her incredible cooking.

Yesterday, I said good bye for perhaps the last time.  I held her hand and mentioned my name;  she opened her eyes and said my name.  I stroked her face and forehead and brushed back her hair.  I kissed her, as I had all these years, on her forehead and asked her blessing perhaps for the last time.

The circle is near complete.  All the preparations are in process.  Some details will be ironed out.  Now I need to start thinking about what to write and say to all the people that loved my mother, my family, her surviving brothers, nephews and nieces, grandchildren and great grandchildren. 

The sorrow I feel  needs to be offset by the joy that my mother left us with.  She made life better that was her gift to all of us.  Now I have to give back something to all those that will attend.  I want them to feel my mother's presence and humor.

Life is good.  It has moments of despair but darkness always precedes the morning light.  I am so grateful that I can enjoy the morning light.  I will always recall the clatter of pots and pans that my mother awakened us with as she commenced her morning cooking.  Mornings are also good.  The darkness never lasts too long.  I am grateful for the promise of light and feel awakened once again.

Death's Door

Death's Door
Ponce Inlet, FL

Things have gotten progressively worse with my mom's dementia, enough to warrant another trip to Florida. Mom's moaning is now now ever present even though there's no physiological reason for her moaning.  In order to reduce both her anxiety and agitation, as well as my father's anxiety, the nursing home suggested and I agreed to contract with hospice services.


Although I do not believe in playing God and I do not relish my role, I simply do not subscribe in prolonging the suffering of both the living and the soon to depart.  My mother has lived nearly 90 lucid years.  For 69 of those years my father has been by her side in both sickness and in health;  however, each time my father hears her moan and sees her writhe it breaks his heart.   It seems to me inhumane to prolong her agony and his prolonged suffering.  For Dad, there is nothing more that he can do for her.


Yes, I could leave her simply alone under the regular care of the nursing home; however, their solution is to leave her moaning in a nearby wheelchair in plain view in a common area where they can monitor her.  My mother, if she were lucid, would not have wanted that.  She would have scolded me and wondered about what would people think about her?  No I don't want that for my mother.  No I don't want to play God. I simply do not wish to prolong her agony and the inevitable.  There is no more quality of life for my mother.  That ended abruptly the middle of last month. I understand and I and my siblings, and my father need to let go.


For years, I have believed that death is simply nothing more and nothing less than rest for the weary. My mother's body is tired and her mind is gone.  She deserves my respect and I will always remember her as we did on her 90th birthday.


I love my mother and always will but I have to, if need be, end the suffering for both she and my Dad.  No doctor can bring her back to us and now its time to simply keep her memory and spirit alive each day.  Her time is near, I know. I simply pray that God will take her breath away and give her body peace and the rest she deserves.  She has fought a brave fight and has almost singlehandely broken Medicare.


Mom, I hurt for you but I've always loved you the most.  Please don't forget I am the best looking and your only son.   It hurts to let you go, but I have to look out for Dad and my sisters too.  You said I was your favorite but I know that you loved us all the same, I just happened to be your only son and the youngest. Thanks for fighting such a good fight. I know you are tired and your bones are brittle and ache.  I never could stand to see you in pain and suffer.  I took care of you when you were younger and at times sick and I am so sorry that I can't make it better now.  You will always make me laugh and I hope that I will always make you smile.