{"id":1990,"date":"2009-11-30T15:11:33","date_gmt":"2009-11-30T20:11:33","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.silkentent.com\/Trees\/?p=1990"},"modified":"2014-02-05T15:53:34","modified_gmt":"2014-02-05T20:53:34","slug":"unfinished","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.silkentent.com\/Trees\/?p=1990","title":{"rendered":"Unfinished"},"content":{"rendered":"

November 30, 2009
\nMonday<\/strong><\/p>\n

In my house there are a hundred half-done poems.
\n\u00c2\u00a0 Each of us leaves an unfinished life.
\n<\/em>\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0 — Mary Oliver, b. 1935
\n\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0 American poet<\/p>\n

\"nablo092\"One of Lynn’s high school field hockey teammates was the daughter of a woman who had been a field hockey standout in her own youth, and later\u00c2\u00a0a successful coach. I liked sitting near her in the stands because she tended to think out loud and narrate the action, naming and explaining plays and fouls that I would otherwise have missed or not understood. Her daughter was often the ball controller, and the mother would frequently call out, “Finish, Ashley! Finish!” I never knew quite what that meant, but knew it probably had something to do with follow-through, follow-up, covering the details.<\/p>\n

This is the last day of NaBloPoMo 2009. Despite my carefully drawn plans, I posted on only 17 days, including this one. That’s just over half. Although not a half-baked nor a half-hearted effort, it causes me to be disappointed in myself. My\u00c2\u00a0effort began to wobble half-way through the month when, as in 2008, I had a health assessment that demanded further investigation.<\/p>\n

Like last year, I let that concern crowd out others, and by the middle of last week, I was missing beats regularly. I misremembered the date of an important anniversary in a friend’s life and so neglected to note it. In an effort to start pulling things together for Christmas, I\u00c2\u00a0got out\u00c2\u00a0a box that I knew contained some address lists and other keeping-in-touch materials. I had taken it with me when\u00c2\u00a0I left for Georgia on my birthday.<\/p>\n

And I’d brought it back without ever opening it. It contained the Christmas cards and letters people sent us last year, and the beginnings of my annual holiday letter that I never completed. (Some people will thank me for this.) It also contained birthday cards that I didn’t even open, and thus did not acknowledge. I just saw who sent it, figured I knew what was inside, and deferred the response. I opened them now and saw that one extended an invitation that it must appear now that I ignored, and another was not a birthday card but a letter from an old friend about the serious illness of a mutual friend, another matter apparently ignored.<\/p>\n

At Wednesday’s Thanksgiving Eve service, someone asked after Lynn and then wondered what grade she’s in now. I hadn’t realized that this woman and I had been so out of touch. On Thursday, at dinner at my sister’s house, I realized how little I really knew about some of the people I claim to care about, whose lives I want to be part of, should be part of.<\/p>\n

Every day is another chance to change, someone reminded me on Friday.<\/p>\n

I’m taking that chance today, closing the book on November. Holidailies<\/a> starts next week. I’ve said that the energy of NaBloPoMo does not engage me the way that of Holidailies does, but that’s just an excuse. I need to create my own forward-moving energy. There are letters to write, gifts to procure, bread to be baked, and love to be shared.<\/p>\n

Thank you for reading, so much, so often.<\/p>\n

*********<\/p>\n

The NaBlos of the Past<\/p>\n

2008: I did not post on this day in 2008.<\/p>\n

2007: Kum & Go, Buffalo<\/a> — I first knew Kum & Go when I visited Wyoming in 2005. The faintly salacious name amused me. The\u00c2\u00a0company was founded in 1959 by William Krause and Tony Gentle, who sought a name that would emphasize convenience and speed for your shopping experience. They played off \u00e2\u20ac\u0153come and go\u00e2\u20ac\u009d by using the founders\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 initials.<\/em><\/p>\n

2006: I did not post on this day in 2006.<\/p>\n

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