The Unclad Soul

Good Morning Good morning to the great trees That bend above this little house; Good morning to the wind that comes And goes among the leaves, and sings; Good morning to the birds, the grass, Good morning to the bare ground; Good morning, pond across the way That must have opened both its eyes; Good morning, everything that shines Or doesn’t shine; good morning, mole And worm and nesting mouse—good morning, Morning to all things that ever Were and will be, and that are. ~ From, “Good Morning: Last Poems,” by Mark Van Doren

I recently spent a day in Oklahoma City with my brother, Jim, who has muscular dystrophy. He fell at home a few weeks ago and had to have surgery. He is now in a rehabilitation center. The doctors and physical therapists are trying to get him to a place where he will have some measure of independence. He will not, however, be able to return home. It’s possible that he could go into assisted living, but more probably, he will have to go to a nursing home and live there. He is facing all of this with a lot of heart and reality. He knows his health has seriously deteriorated and   living   alone is no longer an option for him. But he is also experiencing, understandably, a certain sadness about his situation. I feel sad for him as well. Jim was once a tall, healthy, athletic guy. He played baseball in high school. Was a terrific swimmer. He loved to play golf. In his late 20’s he began to experience a weakness in his arms and legs. As time went by and his symptoms worsen...

“Sometimes I dream that everything in the world is here, in my room,  in a great closet, named and orderly, and I am here too, in front of it,  hardly able to see for the flash and the brightness— and sometimes I am that madcap person clapping my hands and singing;  and sometimes I am that quiet person down on my knees.”  ~ Mary Oliver, Poet/Writer