embracing moments of joy (haibun)

 

(c) clr’2022

As we hope to approach the end of this pandemic, a month ago the world witnessed an explosion of chaos, of violence, of trauma, of one of the worse assaults against humanity…I’m not an expert on this.  I am but an ordinary person who is in her late autumn years…or is it winter? Well, it is not spring or summer, so you figure it out.

Watching the news is a cat and mouse affair for me.  I want to be in the “know” but most days I can no longer handle it.  I know I need to be fresh and together so my heart is open to be filled with trauma, sorrow and the multiple questions from a confused generation of youths and young adults.   And so I watch the news 3 days a week to keep some balance in my heart…my mind.

I cry for youths.  I cry for my children and their children…heck, I cry for anyone who is younger than me and so many of their dreams are in question.  I weep out of fear, worry, disappointment with the world and how we have become split in so many ways…more than I have ever seen in my lifetime.

I have lived a long full life without the chaos we are faced with now but my heart aches especially  for children, teens and young families all over the world.

I have been trying to  embrace brief moments of joy…I heard a flock (gaggle)  of geese honking over my building at sunset last week…the sound made my heart beat just a little faster. My geranium is blossoming so much as it stretches out towards the sun in my bedroom window…embracing moments of joy, my feline stretching in the sunshine and my granddaughter talking to me in “her” language that is music to Nana’s ears.

 

don’t cry little one
the sun is shining today
hear the geese honk

April rains wash pain away
the sun will dry your cheeks

chin up little one
skipping rope and chanting rhymes
oh! sweet merriment

(c)tournesol ‘2022-03-30

Day 54 May 7/20 No Exits (troiku)

No photo description available.

(c) Clr ’20

 

where’ve they all gone
tumbling early in the morn
hollow echoes

where’ve they all gone
absent footsteps
abandoned stairwell

tumbling early in the morn
like clockwork
with purpose

hollow echoes
not so long ago
safely indoors

keeping satellites busy
friends and family reconnect

defend one and all
Mother Nature breathing life
Isolation saves

Image may contain: Cheryl-Lynn Tournesol, glasses and close-up

© Tournesol ‘20/05/07

Daily Moments – May 7 2020 No Exits Troiku

Peak of the day ~ Haibun

No photo description available.

It is interesting how joy is relative. What’s even more fascinating is how much our brief moments of content can alter over the years. Oh, yes, of course, the gurgle of a new born is up at the top of the list, then that first kiss from that special person, hearing your child say “Mama” or “Papa” for the first time is high up there too. My goodness my heart swells just to think of that. Hearing your lover say “I love you” warms the heart but hearing your child say, “I love you” holds your heart.
I won’t get into all the other moments of contentment. Maybe I am writing this with a light heart and laughing soul as I think of what tickled my spirit today.
Step by step
Checking each heart beat
Height of the day

Slight vibration on the wrist
reporting 5,000 steps!!

Oh goodie surges
Through the heart
Fitbit’s daily peak

Daily Moments January 18 2020

simmering memories Haibun Daily Moments August 27 2019

© clr Grand-Maman 2014

After spending a relaxing day reading, she decided to prepare her dinner.  Looking in the fridge, she was  lacking inspiration.  Groceries were in need, she sighed, yet she wanted to wait since she had busted her budget already two weeks ago.  She found broccoli stems she had saved, a bag of baby carrots, left over small potatoes that would spoil soon and of course her trusty jar of minced garlic.  Looking up at her vegetable and fruit basket hanging next to the pantry, she took two onions.

She fried the garlic, then onions then filled the pot with water and the chopped vegetables added several heaping tablespoons of beef bouillon, adding spices here and there and let it come to a boil.  Of course she added Worcestershire sauce…it was one staple in her recipes along with a dash or two or three of curry.  She stirred, adding more spices but thought she might wait a while to allow the ingredients to savour the concoction she was making.  She preferred to call it ETF (Empty The Fridge) soup.  But in the past few months there was less and less to empty.  Her fridge was sparse and that was partly trying to follow her more humble budget and also she was tired of throwing away food if she had not got around to cook.  Living alone means not over buying and calculating just enough “in case” family drop by.  Although, her timing was never that great either in those instances.  She tried to keep some things she had cooked in the freezer since she usually cooked enough for at least eight persons.

She stirred the bubbling vegetable liquid and lowered the heat to simmer.  She realized she needed to add more water so she transferred the pot to a bigger pot and then she added lentils she had rinsed several times to the stock.  As she added a few more dashes of this and that, she could not help but think of her GrandMaman.  How she wished she would have been more interested in cooking as a young adult and spent more time cooking with her.  She saw her cook as a teenager but once she married and left home, she rarely watched her do her magic in the kitchen.  She was such an amazing cook too.  The only thing she got down almost perfect was her turkey dressing.  And that was just by tasting, adding this and that and tasting over and over until it tasted like Christmas a long long time ago growing up.

She stirred absent mindedly, rapt in her thoughts that  brought her back in time. Perhaps that was why cooking was so comforting for many people.

swirls of broth
waves in a tin pool
bubbling with stories

listening to her old stories
turn of the last century

washboards and lye soap
horses pulling bread and milk
times of yore

© Tournesol ‘19/08/27

trust your instincts haibun

They called her Wolf Girl on the psych ward at the hospital . No one had been able to approach her …much. She was like a wild animal. If you came too close to her, she would howl; if she was hungry she would stand at your table, looking at your tray with the puppy dog eyes, no one could refuse her. The staff was curious about her but all, without exception, fell in love with her especially when she would curl up into a ball in the fetus position on the centre of her bed…thumb in mouth, lights ON. If ever a staff member felt pity for anyone sleeping with those bright neon lights and turned it off in her room, she would sit up, howling, eyes wide, holding on to her blanket for dear life. 

Her name was Torey.  Child services brought her in 3 months ago to Emergency for a check up and after examination by doctors as well as the psycho-educator in chief, they assumed she would get her discharge no later than 3 days (which was customary in “those” cases). But she never got that release and Dr. Shelley, the Psycho-Educator in chief would not release her. She had a different reason at each court hearing…this last one was selective mutism, and that this youth was sexually assaulted multiple times for years.

Torey was 11 by now but what did,   “hell did multiple times for years” even mean?  Dr. Shelley just knew that this child should NOT be placed in foster care without guarantees she would be safe.   The system had failed her in the past when this child had put her trust in adults who should have kept her safe.  Dr. Shelley knew there were NO such guarantees.  She  took it upon herself to ensure she remain the ward of the court and in the children’s psychiatric ward indefinitely.  She had hope that some day soon, she just may make a breakthrough. Torey may decide to talk.

It was December 24th,  three and a half months since Torey’s admission, and she was in her daily interview with Dr. Shelley. This therapist had a unique approach with youths with selective mutism.  Her past 10 years of experience working solely with teens who had autism spectrum had given her a new skill…EEP.  Her colleagues, mostly professors at the local university scoffed at her when she said it was actually a skill that had to be learned with working with “exceptional” youths.  EEL stands for Exceptional Empathetic Listening skills.  Dr. Shelley had a knack of drawing out the most difficult and resistant child into trusting her enough to start talking…even if it was one hour a day, that was a miracle in many cases she had worked on.

Torey was different. She was brilliant. She had a way of knowing what adults were thinking and what they needed. This is how they discovered her exceptional talent or sixth sense you. 

One day, Nurse Grant, who had been working on the pediatric ward on the psychiatric section for 20 years,  walked on the floor with a limp wearing tinted glasses.  Staff all inquired with sympathy what had happened to her over the weekend and she just brushed them off with a, “Ah just clumsy old me bumped into the glass bus shelter. With the darn sleet and snow mingled, I could not see an inch in front of me and I banged the corner of my left eye and slipped and sprained my ankle. Enough said, no need for pity from anyone, so I got these glasses to avoid your mushy sad looks. Now ya’ll get to work!”  She did have a bit of a bark and everyone went back to work. No one asked her again and most of the staff avoided looking at her in the eye…or rather, glasses…except for Torey.  She looked at her suspiciously, sucking her thumb. She circled around her looking up at her and raised her eyebrow. 

Then she followed Nurse Grant into the nurse’s lobby and sat right next to her on the couch while she sipped her coffee. Torey looked up and did the most surreal thing…she spoke! “He gave it to you, didn’t he?” she said  in a raspy voice. Nurse Grant almost spilled her coffee and looked at Torey wide eye, in shock.

“What are you talkin’ about young lady?!”

But Torey did not balk nor did she feel intimidated by Nurse Grant’s harsh tone.  She just looked up at her with those puppy dog eyes and gave Nurse Grant a hug, whispering in her ear, “I know what them do to you.”

Nurse Grant froze at first, then relinquished to this precious moment because she had a feeling that Torey did, in fact, know.  Torey’s compassion melted her heart.

Later that afternoon, Dr. Shelley was advised about Torey’s first spoken words in private by Nurse Grant who had to come clean of her own personal circumstances. 

Dr. Shelley, called Torey to her office.

“Well, now, Torey. You certainly gave us a bit of a surprise today and I have to say a very nice surprise. I want to thank you.” 

Torey had arrived arms crossed, ready to keep her silence but was cut off guard when Dr. Shelley was thanking her.  She dropped her arms to her side and raised an eyebrow and waited…she was the prize of detectives…she had to know for sure…

Dr. Shelley continued, “Torey, Nurse Grant has been in an abusive relationship for years and no one but no one has ever had the courage to confront her and plead with her to get out and to a safer environment. Today, Nurse Grant came up to me asking to live in the nurses’ quarters for the night staff temporarily until she finds a new apartment.  I want to thank you for doing something not one counsellor, nurse, doctor or psychologist was able to do until you did.”

Torey stared at her, sizing what she had just heard, and took her usual seat in front of Dr. Shelly’s arm chair and said, “Yeah, well, it’s about time she left that f…..g loser. She deserves better.”

That was the first session Torey felt she could trust Dr. Shelley and started disclosing the sexual abuse she had been exposed to by her father from the age of 7 to 10 and the abuse in foster care the months following her removal from her home.

Trust had to be earned.  Torey was not fool enough to trust just anyone; she knew who could be trusted and she chose to speak to Nurse Grant because she saw an ally…a soldier in the fight against abuse  in her.  As for Dr. Shelley, well, Torey, knew she had an exceptional way of listening and she was just waiting for the right moment to feel she could actually trust her.





 the frog tries to help
a scorpion cross the river
an act of kindness

halfway to the other side
scorpion shows its true nature

smell cunning cruelty
even words soaked in honey
instincts are wiser

©Tournesol 2016