Time Marches On

Rolling Along

With writing, there was no effort to formalize ideas. Still, she wrote poetry as beautiful as her photographs and her writing efforts also showed her feisty side.

She’d write with a venomous roll, line after line filled with vitriol and well-placed sarcasm on whoever she was attacking. Only oldest brother Don surpassed in that notorious ability. All the same, Deb could sure hold her own if she wanted to gnaw on your bone. With the high drama associated with our family, there was always a wealth of material.

Some years back we got a late-night phone call from Deb asking me to come get her. Seems she had taken one of her cooling off rides and ended up off the road with a banged-up car. Again, there was no indication of drinking although I had my suspicions. After getting directions to the right curve in the road, I headed out to rescue my sister.

Deb was fine and the car wasn’t totaled, although it was most definitely un-drivable. I drove her home to my house and we dealt with the car the next day. In the scheme of things, it was a rather insignificant medium-sized drama that was handled without much fuss. I respected her wishes not to tell her husband about the bent fender on an otherwise snazzy red Prelude. Wasn’t my place to judge my sister for her choices, only to love her as a brother and be honest.

Not sure if her mishap on the back roads came before her birthday that year or after. No matter, on her next birthday, I gave her a birthday poem.

She and I did talk about drinking, something that apparently runs in my family, along with many other families. She never openly acknowledged her affliction and continued drinking until the rest of her body wore out. I miss her lively spirit and all our good and bad times with a multitude more of times in between.   

Blood Line Relation

there’s a thousand reasons in the wind
a million pathways to the stars
she’s rollin’ down some country road
shoot the moon on the way to mars
detour on through the milky way
make some sense of all this haze
she’s tough as nails in the drivin’ rain
joan of arc on sunny days
don’t pull no punches ‘round the bend
push the river when ya can
fan the flames of hope and desire
and lord stand by your man
she’s hit the signpost on this travelled road
another reason in the wind
all these years and she’s been around
and around she goes again
here’s to the occasion
with some gentle persuasion
to raise your glass with some cheer
thunder and damnation
she’s blood line relation
and I’ve always been glad she’s here