Obits: 19 May 2016

I have a confession to make: obituaries fascinate me. One can find amazing stories in the thumbnail sketches of people's lives, and I often find myself humbled while reading them.

A year ago I was struck by the fact that two, okay 67, newsworthy deaths took place on the same day -  those aboard an Egyptian Airliner, and half a world away, Morley Safer. It made me wonder about all the other people who might have died within those same 24 hours, and how little we know of our fellow travelers at this point in time.



Obits: 19 May 2016


Mostly unrecognized, the man
wearing the sports coat patiently waited
his turn in the crowded anteroom.
Occasionally a whispered, "Isn't that Morley
Safer from 60 Minutes?" reached his ears.

But the sixty-six souls from the fated flight
of EgyptAir 804 paid no heed, nor did
a group of war-savaged Syrians,
or those snagged by India's heat wave,
nor numberless others left out of headlines
but now called to account for their lives.

So many compelling stories,
and St. Peter with the only pen in the place.



Marilyn Aschoff Mellor

Gully

Back to the cabin this weekend. Back to higher lake levels and filling wetlands. Back to a raw northeast wind and a slow but constant rain. Unlike the two day downpour of last spring that cost three people their lives, but raising the water table just as effectively.



Gully


Rain-besotted ground, tree roots rotting,
dry land no longer but true boreal bog.
Blue spruce waterlogged, day-trippers tripped up.

Stalled rainclouds sent rivers rampaging,
buckling roadways.
Three careless souls overwhelmed
by rushing water,
caught in separate nets of rashness.

Northwood news but not national. No one
live-streaming mayhem from black-top roads.
Only a doe and her fawn
attempting to leap a ditch turned floodway,
and a slow moving car with out-of-state plates.



Marilyn Aschoff Mellor

No Ballerina Flats in the Bunch

It's Mother's Day, and how can I not remember my mom. She stood barely five feet tall while my dad's six foot frame towered over her. As a result of this height difference and possessing an innate sense of fashion, three inch heels were her friends.

Like a lot of women she loved shoes. Many of them followed her from the family home to assisted living, and even a few found space in a long term care closet. Here's to you, Mom, a woman who lived life to the fullest.



No Ballerina Flats in the Bunch


Boxes of shoes
like guests reluctant to leave
crowded your closet,
hand-tooled pumps and heels

many of them stilettos outdated
to the point of being retro.
As a fashionista you never left home
in anything less.

With time and a leaky heart
your ankles started to balloon. You fumed,
frustrated as those unable to wear
the charmed glass slipper.

How many stores did we shop
trying to find something
both stylish and practical
before you agreed to a slip-on, forever

regarded with disdain? And woe
be to the daughter who suggested donating
any former footwear to the Goodwill.
You were not done with the high life yet.



Marilyn Aschoff Mellor

I Don't Want To

Since I'm still in London and immersed in my daughter's life, here is one more blog from my point of view about her year long journey fighting breast cancer. As I mentioned before, her Annus Horribilis is behind her, and she is more than well on her way to recovery.

It's always good to spend time with her family; it's always bittersweet to leave.



I Don't Want To


tackle your white cell count
decipher your persistent nausea
compile a file of toxic drugs
badger you not to ignore a fever
caution you to avoid crowds
fret about airborne infections
weigh the chance of cardiac side effects
hear you stumble with "chemo brain"
notice you fumble with stiffened fingertips
interpret your pathology report
weep as I watch women Race for the Cure.

I only want to be your mother, brush the hair
from your shoulders, banish the monsters
from under your bed.



Marilyn Aschoff Mellor