Sandra Heska King

daring to open doors

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Covid Chronicles – Calling Dad

June 11, 2020 By Sandra Heska King

“Am I bothering you?” Dad’s calling again. You sure are! (I’m really not doing anything that can’t be interrupted.) “Good!” Dad will turn 93 in just a few days. We would be in Michigan right now to celebrate his birthday as well as my sister’s first anniversary and our oldest granddaughter’s graduation, but COVID is cancelling […]

Filed Under: Blog, stories and reflections

Covid Chronicles – Keeping Distance

April 21, 2020 By Sandra Heska King

keeping distance

Keeping distance has really not been all that difficult for me. I’m mostly introverted–an INFP–though I might fool you with my extroverted side. I’m not sure if that’s a natural or developed part of me. Also, I don’t get the Enneagram stuff and don’t have enough patience to work my way through it. Back to […]

Filed Under: Blog, stories and reflections

Covid Chronicles – Resurrection Monday.

April 13, 2020 By Sandra Heska King

Resurrection Monday

Today is Resurrection Monday. Yesterday was Easter, and I cried. It was a small thing that triggered it on top of something else that happened the night before. That sparked a cascade of past hurts. You know how that happens. I haven’t even cried during Covid. Well, until until yesterday. We live a pretty quiet, […]

Filed Under: Blog, stories and reflections

Covid Chronicles – March 2020

April 1, 2020 By Sandra Heska King

Life in the time of Covid isn’t normal. Just in case you didn’t know. My 92-year-old (93 next month) dad had a couple procedures yesterday. The hospital board had to approve them as essential. Because his memory is shorter than an inchworm these days, my sister scattered notes around–“yes” on the coffeepot, “yes” on the […]

Filed Under: Blog

The Yellow Wall-Paper: A Graphic Novel

February 27, 2020 By Sandra Heska King

In all my 71 years, I’d never heard of The Yellow Wall-paper. I’d never heard of its author, Charlotte Perkins Gilman, either. Also, I never pay attention to graphic novels–which is odd since I like comic strips (well, some of them) and used to enjoy comic books as a child–as well as spreading out those […]

Filed Under: Blog, book reviews

I Quit

February 24, 2020 By Sandra Heska King

I quit. I came by here for a visit and found it’s been six months, almost seven, since I’ve strung any words together in this space. Because I quit. I keep getting new visitors, though. And views on my Facebook page–where I haven’t posted in the same amount of time. Because I quit. Actually, does […]

Filed Under: Blog, stories and reflections

Commit Poetry: Kindness

August 1, 2019 By Sandra Heska King

We have seen kindness in action during the last several weeks. My 16-year-old grand girl, Gracee AKA Grace AKA Amazing Grace, was in a serious car accident in June. I’ve been in Michigan (I forgot to mention where I actually was in the below video) since then to help in her recovery. While here, I’ve […]

Filed Under: Blog, Commit Poetry, poetry

Commit Poetry: A Midsummer Night’s Dream

May 29, 2019 By Sandra Heska King

Since I turned 70 earlier in the year, I’ve had to accept I’m way, way past midlife. But some say that 70 is the new 40 (or is it 50?), and my own midsummer night’s dream is one of looking and feeling young(er) for lots of years. So I’ve started walking again–at least two miles […]

Filed Under: Blog, Commit Poetry

First Words Friday: Week 11 – 2019 – Charlotte’s Web

March 15, 2019 By Sandra Heska King

Charlotte's Web

Charlotte’s Web by E.B. White. Have you read it? If so, did you read it as a child or as an adult? In the foreword of the 60th anniversary edition, author Kate DiCamillo confesses she didn’t read it until she was 31 years old. The cover of the book scared her. But then “I was […]

Filed Under: Blog, First Words Friday

FIRST WORDS FRIDAY: WEEK 10 – 2019 – THE NUN’S STORY

March 9, 2019 By Sandra Heska King

The Nun's Story

The Nun’s Story by Kathryn C. Hulme, copyright 1956, was a Book of the Month Club selection that reached #1 on the New York Times best-seller list. My friend’s dad, who was our mailman, tucked it in our mailbox addressed to my great-grandmother. I read her books–maybe not when I was 7, but a little […]

Filed Under: Blog, First Words Friday

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I’m Sandra, a camera-toting, recovering doer who’s learning to be. still. Read more…

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I’ve gotten several messages asking if things we I’ve gotten several messages asking if things were okay. Yes. I’ve recovered after 3 weeks in Covid jail. Also, I’ve been a bit scarce on social cuz we’ve been finishing up house renovations, and there is SO much that now needs to be cleaned and stuff put away. Also, we’ve had the second oldest grand with us for two weeks. I “should have” at least shared some stories about our adventures, but we’ve relished the time and kept busy. One can’t leave South Florida without a gator encounter, though, right? Tomorrow the two of us fly back to Michigan, and then I will spend a week with my sister where I expect I will be put to work in the chicken house and the gardens and become a glad(iola) roadside proprietor for a day at the Four Star in while she and my BIL attend a family reunion. I’ll also get to see my dad in the nursing home and spend a couple nights with my daughter. D will hold down the fort here. Then maybe by the first of next month, I’ll be able to finish putting things in order, breathe, find some writing space and get back to normal. Whatever that is.
I tossed and turned all night. And then the storm I tossed and turned all night. And then the storm started. I finally got up about 5ish and sat outside to watch. Until a couple mosquitoes found me. Also, the jasmine hadn’t gone to bed yet and smelled heavenly.
Sunday evening. That is all. Sunday evening. That is all.
“The news is not and never has been, because it “The news is not and never has been, because it doesn’t talk about the small moments. Moments that matter to individuals, whatever they do or do not do in the grand scheme of things. And it is in those individual moments that belong to people, that deserve to be faced and remembered as much as every big, world-changing disaster. And nature, because it exists in the details, is too easy to elide, even when trying to talk about it.” ~ Sara Barkat in her introduction to Earth Song: A Nature Poems Experience
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I had to look up “elide.” It’s not a typo. 😊
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Sara goes on to write, “The structure of this book is that of a piece of music. The poems are to be read in order…”
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The first poem she includes is Sara Teasdale’s “Lost Things” that starts, “”Oh, I could let the world go by / It’s loud new wonders and it’s wars / But how will I give up the sky…”
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Good morning sky. Good morning moon. Good morning little bird flying to the moon. Good morning red bottlebrushes nodding in the breeze. It’s good to emerge from this Covid fog. Day 10.
“Truly, we live with mysteries too marvelous to “Truly, we live with mysteries too marvelous to be understood. . . Let me keep company always with those who say “Look!” and laugh in astonishment and bow their heads.” ~ Mary Oliver in “Mysteries, Yes”
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No way could anyone ever convince me that this world in all its beauty and creativity and mysteries is here by accident.
Food truck night with a newcomer—@crepstick. So Food truck night with a newcomer—@crepstick. So yummy! I hope they come back.  But maybe not too often or I’ll have to do double time on the exercise.
“Embrace this day knowing and showing the world “Embrace this day knowing and showing the world that your God is more than enough for you.”
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@tamiheim @tonibirdsong 
In @stickyJesus: How to Live Out Your Faith Online
My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the str My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion.” Psalm 73:26 (ESV)
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I’d almost forgotten what quiet mornings on the patio were like. (Quiet except for the birds and the sound of the neighbor’s AC.)
So yesterday I saw my cardiologist. It was the fir So yesterday I saw my cardiologist. It was the first time he wanted to see me in 6 months instead of a year. He said my aortic stenosis had gotten worse. Like on the cusp of moderate to severe. 😬

So the first thing he asks me is, "How's you daughter?" Wait. Isn't this supposed to be about ME?

Then he asks if I've had any symptoms. "Well, I don't know. Maybe. I felt a little dizzy out of the blue a couple times. And felt like I couldn't catch my breath. I wouldn't have paid any attention if I didn't know I was supposed to be watching for symptoms. I DID walk all over Israel and up a bunch of steep hills, even all the way up to the Golan Heights--against the wind--without anything but normal fatigue.

He laughs. "I created a monster." Ummm, yeah.

"Have you been exercising?" 

"Well, yeah. We walk a couple miles a day. I'm back on my Nordictrack Strider." I didn't tell him I'd been lifting some light weights and some very heavy boxes and other items during this renovation, though I was told in December not to.

So he listens to the beating of my heart. Then he says, "Well, I don't think the valve is ripe yet. I don't expect you to have symptoms for three or four years. You don't need to come back for a year."

Wait! So you ask if I have symptoms. But you don't expect symptoms--yet. And when I do have symptoms, someone is gonna do something. And then I'll be older and maybe weaker. Or what if I have some sudden and silent symptom and boom! And now I have to worry about that. 

(In other news, my oldest grand texts me the other day, and our conversation runs like this... (continued in comments)
Last weekend we were in northern Michigan. And the Last weekend we were in northern Michigan. And there were lilacs. They even shook their heads over tornado-induced devastation. Look for the beauty and sweet scents in the midst of the mess. I miss the lilacs.
Yesterday’s morning view. We haven’t seen the Yesterday’s morning view. We haven’t seen the sun all day today.
When the folks in my hometown of Gaylord, Michigan When the folks in my hometown of Gaylord, Michigan ate their breakfast Friday morning, they had no idea what terror and devastation they'd face before dinner. Everyone has a story. You've probably seen pictures.

If not, take a peek at @mlivenews .

My great-nephew, not quite 12, had just gotten home from school when the EF-3 came down the street and left its mark on every home. My niece frantically tried to find her way from work through debris and blocked roads. My sister was 30 miles away visiting my dad in rehab. I don't want to know how fast my brother-in-law drove. 

The house and yard took a hit, worse than some, not as bad as others. A mobile home park was demolished--two deaths there. I heard one person is still missing. So many injured. So much awful. But the town is coming together for each other. Pray for them.

We plan to fly up Thursday--already planned to celebrate my dad's 95th birthday. 

Also, if anyone feels led to help, the Otsego Community Foundation and Otsego County United Way are accepting donations. Note “Tornado Relief.” Beware of any other fundraising requests.
Cutting tonight’s walk short. Stupid blue jay. N Cutting tonight’s walk short. Stupid blue jay. Not this one. A different one. But still. (My niece believes blue jays are a visitation from Grandma—my mom.) 
My shirt says “Walk in love. But I’m not feeling very loving. And if it WAS my Mom AKA Mother Mary Esther of the Order of Perpetual Birdwatchers, I’ll bet she’s having a good laugh. A passerby said she heard it was good luck and I should buy a lottery ticket tonight. In other news, I also banged my hip bone against our bed’s footboard and gave myself a mighty bruise. Then I burned my arm on the top of the grill. I did manage to wash all the knives without cutting myself and didn’t start any fires. So how was your day?
And now… “From the rising of the sun to the pl And now… “From the rising of the sun to the place where it sets, the name of the Lord is to be praised.”
The world’s a mess, but His mercies are new. The world’s a mess, but His mercies are new.
When we were in Israel last month, we visited @yad When we were in Israel last month, we visited @yadvashem - the World Holocaust Center in Jerusalem. There wasn't enough time to spend nearly enough time. 

The Valley of the Communities was very moving. It's a labyrinth of stone from which there seems no way out. Our guide said It gives an idea of the endlessness of the horror. His parents emigrated from Vilna (the Jerusalem of Lithuania), before the Holocaust. In 1935, thirteen of his family members still remained there. By 1945 only one--an uncle--had survived. He wrote a book about them from a bundle of old letters. "One story out of millions."

"This memorial commemorates the Jewish communities destroyed by Nazi Germany and its collaborators, and the few which suffered but survived in the shadow of the Holocaust."
#Israel2022 #HolocaustRemembranceDay
“From my favorite spot on the floor, I look up a “From my favorite spot on the floor, I look up at the blue sky and the bare chestnut tree on whose branches little raindrops shine, appearing like silver, ” Anne Frank wrote in the Diary of a Young Girl. Watching the tree change through the seasons her family spent in hiding in an attic gave her hope. The Holocaust Memorial Center is one of only eleven sites in the United States to receive a sapling from that tree. I stand at “her” window and imagine hanging hope on a tree.

"It happened, therefore it can happen again: this is the core of what we have to say. It can happen, and it can happen everywhere.” ~ Primo Levi

From a post I wrote for @tspoetry after a visit to the @holocaustcenter.

https://www.tweetspeakpoetry.com/2016/07/27/regional-tour-holocaust-memorial-center-farmington-hills-michigan/
Stunning tree I parked near at Bible study yesterd Stunning tree I parked near at Bible study yesterday. I was in a rush and failed to snap the whole tree. I need to run back before the flowers fall. I think it’s a jacaranda? I want one.
Speaking of birds... bluejay in my backyard this a Speaking of birds... bluejay in my backyard this afternoon. I thought he was hurt, but I think he was just trying to cool off. (Maybe it's a young one.... unless it's the light?)
Someone should do something about that dog. She’ Someone should do something about that dog. She’s yelping and carrying on like she’s in some awful pain.
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