Category Archives: Personal
Making Friends with MS
I’ve had MS – multiple sclerosis – since 1988 At first it was ‘remitting-relapsing.’ Then it progressed. I can stand up, but I can’t walk unassisted. I once loved dancing the hora. I didn’t really know how, but that didn’t … Continue reading
Remember, Growing Older
“I don’t remember growing older. When did they?” So sang Tevya, with pride and joy, in ‘Sunrise, Sunset’. We also don’t remember our friends growing older. Then suddenly. they die. I think how much more I could have learned from … Continue reading
The Question is Not …
When Mary was diagnosed with cancer, she was already Stage IV. Do I understand her pain? Of course not. Do I understand her needs? Of course not. Do I understand her anger? Of course not. The question is not: “Do … Continue reading
And Now …
She kissed me! at midnight, dreary and weary with her chemotherapy. as we welcomed 2014, the new year. Memories of accomplishments fade, along with the praise of close friends. Memories of conversations fade, and the problems we discussed, and the … Continue reading
Shadow
She just slipped away. It’s amazing. One minute, you’re here, the next, you’re gone. She was dying, we knew, barely able to walk. We thought her eyesight was going, at the end. She had lost control of her bowels weeks … Continue reading
Neither Here nor There on New Year’s Eve
Outside, it is New Year’s Eve: Fireworks, noisemakers, parties. People await the magic moment. Inside, I am outside time, listening to the winter lights. I am not at Pittsburgh’s 2001 First Night, wandering downtown, trying to choose which performances interest … Continue reading
Chamber Music Concert
Tonight, chamber music. I have been arguing and debating, fussing and fuming, about this election for almost a year. For years, actually. And here, right in front of me, the truth. Mendelssohn, Brahms, Bach … Harmony, oneness … Not just … Continue reading
Go By Hand
Written before 1968, then lost and forgotten. I remembered it in June 2014,thanks to Linda Bittner recalling to me her past hitchhiking. In the morning’s crystal chill I stand, along the roadway snaking through the land. And which way would … Continue reading
Visiting Mary’s Mother
Visiting my wife’s mother Does she know? Mary and I feed her. She opens her mouth as she did to receive communion She eats only a few bites, as usual. Her eyes close. A little nap. Does she know? She … Continue reading
Power Wheelchair
My power wheelchair, plus accessible buses and ramped curbs, equals mobility and freedom!
Jon Robison Poetry 