Thursday, November 27, 2008


Home Sweet Home

It's just silly sentimentality. But I can't remember ever being happier to see home again.

Thank God.

Thanks to God for such a great many things...


pgk said...

Happy Thanksgiving, Jim. I hope yours brought to you some warmth and perhaps even contentment.

We had a quiet, rainy Thanksgiving. I got up to prepare the meal in the half-light of an overcast sky shining through our kitchen skylight. While I peeled apples and squash, I had a couple quiet hours to myself to reflect on the depths to life and its surprises and power.

After eating, we played games. I played solataire Scrabble while acting as judge for the kids' Apples to Apples game. Lots of laughter. Called my mother in Payson. My brothers were there so I spoke with a couple of them.

Thoughts of you and your circumstances crossed my mind several times.

Peace, Jim.

Jim Cobabe said...


I am somewhat amiss for not responding sooner. Thanks for your kind comments, welcomed as always.

We spend Thanksgiving with my sister and family paying a visit, and it was a momentous day for all of us. I am not up to dong much just now, so I mostly layed around basking in the joy everyone else reflected while they prepared the repast.

I am grateful to be alive, in a time when the simple processes of life seem now so precarious. Every breath is a blessing.

I am almost beside myself at times, preoccupied with trying desperately to find some way of lengthening out my days, but it all seems so futile and useless. I will be here just as long as the Lord permits, I guess. I feel very thankful for the good I have had, and hope to accomplish more before I am through. All in the good graces of God.

pgk said...

I've been thinking all day about what you said above. I hope that I can respond with intelligence and get across the depths of my regard for you, but if sometimes I'm not very helpful or say the obvious, I hope you'll understand it's because, like you, I don't know what to do.

First, I'm glad your Thanksgiving included quality basking time. Basking is good. Sometimes it feels good to me just to sit back and watch my kids enjoy themselves, knowing part of their enjoyment includes my taking pleasure in watching them. It gives life a special "slow down and smell the roses" quality.

Second, don't worry about not replying in a timely manner to comments or e-mails. You've got plenty on your mind and lots to do. Write when you can. I comment so often so that you know that I'm still out here and I'm thinking about and you. However, I'm always relieved to see you've let comments through and happy to see your posts because then I know you're still there. I should say, too, that your writing is a pleasure to read.

You expressed your desire to "lengthen out" your days. I think that's a good desire, Jim. I imagine your rehab work and medications will help with this. But maybe, in the face of the precariousness of your position, where you're not sure how to secure the time you want, you might try deepening your days as well. I think you're already on to this and life has taken on greater depth for you. But what else can you do to deepen your days?

If you can avoid feeling anger, that might both lengthen and deepen your days. It might not be a coincidence that this latest stroke occurred after you became so angry at the license bureau lady. Of course, you might have become angry at her because you were already feeling poorly. Or the two incidents might not have been related at all. But maybe they were. It was right after that you posted about your pain and equilibrium problems, which seem now like they might have been warning signs.

Short term anger can help you get out of hard situations, kind of like a burst of speed can. But given the nature of your circumstances, retreat and quiet seem like the better options and most condusive to healing, as much as it is possible under the circumstances. If watching TV makes you angry, like it does me sometimes, maybe you'd better not do it.

Writing seems to bring you satisfaction and perhaps even intellectual, emotional, and spiritual increase. Like I said, it is certainly satisfying to read your writing. MLU said in another comment that your voice is strong and clear. It is -- *very* strong and clear.

In fact, you've amazed me with how you've come back from both these episodes with considerable -- even growing -- powers of speech. That means something, Jim. My suggestion is to follow that life force as it manifests for you in writing.

I have lots to say about how much I've learned from you during the last few months but my daughter needs help and I have to stop for now. I've probably gone on too long anyway. Feel free to tell me to shut up when you've had enough.

Very best wishes.

B. Perky said...

Oh, heck, I knew you would be home for the holidays. Your Mom doesn't tolerate her men being in the hospital when there are things to celebrate.

pgk said...

Not much has been happening around the blogs lately that's very important, but you might find this post interesting and perhaps comforting (at least, it comforted me and gave me a sense of connection):

I was thinking about the importance of writing this morning as I lay in bed next to my special needs daughter, whose sleep needs watching over. It gives me some comfort to know that when I die, I'll leave behind language scattered about in work I've published, in blog posts, in my journal, where my children will be able to encounter me and my thinking when they need me and feel something of our connection. The same goes for others who care at all about who I am and what I've done.

Today I'm going down to the Bluff Arts Festival to take a 3-hr. writing workshop from Katharine Coles, Utah's Poet Laureate. In the p.m., I'm participating in an open mic reading.

If you're interested, I'll let you know how it goes and what I learn.

Jim Cobabe said...


I was going to make a casual remark in comments on the "Common Consent" discussion, but they have apparently snubbed my participation in that forum, permanently. I gather that it is because of some trifling difference with Steve Evans -- apparently he is that kind of guy. At one time, I figured out their security system, and devised an easy workaround, but it really isn't worth the effort. When I had successfully broken in, I suddenly discovered that I was no longer interested. I guess if they want to run an exc;usive sandbox, I can play elsewhere. So I don't read that blog very often any more.

I am interested in the outcome of your arts festival workshop participation, and am hoping you have time to point me to a full report, but I'm sure you must have other matters to occupy your time. Whenever you can get to it...

Thanks much.

pgk said...

"I was going to make a casual remark in comments on the Common Consent discussion, but they have apparently snubbed my participation in that forum, permanently."

Apparently their consent isn't so common, after all. I don't participate much there myself because I get the feeling I'm not welcomed, either. I just couldn't resist that post.

What were you going to say there?

I have put up a report on the Arts Festival writing workshop here:

The open mic reading, which I'll report on later, was a hoot. Featured writers read for the first hour, then the mike was open. A young women named "Moonflower" brought the house down with her slam-style recitation. Her content: peace and good, brotherhood. Those of us who have been around for a while have seen Moonflowers like this one bloom off and on for the last four decades. It's funny how some kinds of people seem to be reborn every ten years.

Anyway, she was fun and charming. Tall, wearing a jute cap I suspect she had woven herself, and long, wispy, tattered skirts. A lock of her long hair stuck almost straight out in front of her face and was tinted green, as if it were the tendril of some vine.

People are great. I love them.

pgk said...

Just wondering ... are we going to get a rehab update soon? I really look forward to reading those.

Jim Cobabe said...


Good call. I'll get busy. Thanks.