Tyler Y2K

Christmas with my Grandson
or, how I observed the arrival of Y2K

I suppose you remember some of the apocalyptic hype about Y2K. Everything from claims that it would be the start of Armageddon and the arrival of Christ in his Second Coming to the Final Nuclear Holocaust as Russian and United-States-of-American missiles started firing-off in retaliation to apparent sabotage.

Well, my Partner and I went to visit with our Grandson, and of course our Daughter and her Partner, on one of the Family Islands in the Bahamas.
As good a place as any to be when the world ends.

I have left my computer behind in Montreal so this is being written on a steno pad with a roller ball pen. This is by way of an experiment, to see if I could do it after being spoiled by a word processor. There was even a time when I thought I couldn't write without chain smoking cigarettes.

December 1999.
Heading into Y2K,
high above the USA.

I begin writing with
my recollection of a moment
that has lasted for five years.

Transcendental Introduction

________________

One moonless night
far from the city,
engulfed
by a darkness
that suffocated me
with blindness,

I felt myself
surrounded by non-being.

I became aware
that I was floating
in the emptiness
of time and space
that surrounded my life

_ _ _ traveling
amongst an infinity
of stars that flame
against the darkness,

that engulfs them
all the same,

as it does me.

Traveling
on Planet Earth
away from the Big Bang
but heading nowhere _ _ _

nothing before,
nothing after _ _ _

into time/space
then out again,

first to a whisper
then to silence.

________________

I stared
at the darkness,
at the emptiness,

listened intently
to the silence,

words had dried up
faded
lost their color,

so many things
beyond the reach of words

silence
was more articulate.

so much lost,
tangled
in a web of letters
in the net of words.

Still I speak.

But you,
you must listen
very carefully
to my silence.

________________

We are floating in space
on a narrow beam of life
no way to the past
no way beyond the future

floating

in the darkness.

wordless,
yet still
full of meaning.

Quiet.

________________

Working my way
back into words,
words that I left
aside
that moonless night.

So much of their meaning
monopolized,
controlled,
regulated,
supervised,
eviscerated,
disemboweled,
hung, drawn, and quartered.

“Coke is the real thing.”

Yeah, right!

What is the real thing?

Could it be the link
between my imagination
and these words
that flow
out of the tip of my pen
onto the pages
of this steno pad,
first down the left side,
then down the right?

Flowing out
from the non-being
of imagination.

Imagination,
reaching
into some fruitful
emptiness,

beyond space,
beyond time.

_____

I take my pen
to write,
waiting on the words

_____

Imagination
is what we use
to reach out into the emptiness
and pull ourselves
out into the future.

Reentry

________________

We have landed.

I'm sitting outside the apartment,
our first night on Long Island
(Bahamas)

While inside
Granma,

terrorized by her fears,
for daughter,
for grandson,
for the grandchild
still within the womb,

(everything and anything
you can imagine
and still more.)

Under attack on all sides,
even from me.

Since I don't see her monsters,
I'm another monster

that threatens
to come between
the mother and her cub.

The fear
turned into migraine,

that blinding pain
that holds her to her bed,
against sound and light,

her stomach green
and churning in nausea.

________________

In the darkness outside
I sense the bats
moving in their night.

The mosquitoes,
now and then,
drawing my blood
for their survival,
leaving me an itch
in gratitude.

Maybe the bat dines
on just such a mosquito
fat with my fresh red blood.

Does she taste it?
Taste the difference?
Does she appreciate it,
my blood in her diet?

________________

Another night, another terror
haunts the frightened Grandmother.

In this one
the child has been retarded
by the poverty,

by the carelessness
that causes the poverty.

But this too is a delusion.

It comes out of her own past.
Images of third world poverty
that haunt her memory
and imagination.

Like a zombie
out of its grave
of repression.

She herself may have escaped,
but now, it seems,
that God,

has resurrected it
to prey on her grandchild.

I try to stay calm.
To absorb it.

To witness
against these nightmares
that invade Granma's soul
even while awake.

The terror subsides.

Grandson Tyler,
bright and smiling,
like the sun
burns away the fog,
and the ghosts it has sheltered.

Encounters

________________

Morning.

As I make my coffee
the fronds
of the palm tree
rub against each other
in the cooling breeze,

fooling me.

I take the sound
for falling raindrops
at the start of rain.

________________

The same breeze carried
someone's perfume
to me.

I delighted
in the intimacy.

Drinking the
aroma in
with a deep
inhale.

I looked up to
greet her
as she passed by
on the road.

Her smile full _ _ _

Did she know?

________________

He repeated it,

my son-in-law,
for emphasis,

“Everybody
   is watching you!”

Everybody is
watching me?

What have they seen of me?
How deeply into my soul?

The dark side,
the shadow side.

Paranoia.
Paranoia is insecurity.
Paranoia is fear of breakdown.
Terrorized by my own imagination.

________________

Remembering _ _ _
one summer,
camping
by a roaring
mountain stream,
trapped by trembling terror
of the Grizzly Bear
hidden by the roar
of the stream.

Panic seizing me,
stopping my lungs.
My whole body vibrating.

I realize how useless
I would be
if something really happened.

I get hold of myself.
I calm myself.
The vibration stops,
my breathing is comfortable
once again.

________________

What's to be
afraid of ? ? ?

_ _ _ the fear
immobilizes,
producing more
fear.

_ _ _ every body
is watching _ _ _

how do I
watch myself?

________________

Okra
(a champion okra picker)
calls me back,
he's standing just outside the bar,
beer bottle in hand.
One of many.

  “I want to tell you something, he says.
   You should walk towards the traffic.
   Don' let 'em come up on yer back.”

And wonders why,
by way of observation,
“You keep the pace of the woman.”

Later I ask my son in law
what he meant
by this observation.

The custom,
he told me,
is to walk in front,
the woman behind,
with child or children
at the rear.

But me ’n Granma
(when the traffic lets us)
walk side by side,
full of chatter and chat
’bout this ’n that.

I guess it's not the custom
for husband and wife
to communicate
so fluently.

________________

Captain Drexel tells me,
as I turn to lock the door,

Don't lock your door.

So I don't.

It's hard at first,
to trust,
to accept the breaking
of that trust,
if it should come to that.

That's the hardest part of trust.

Grandbaby sitting.

________________

30 years as
parents of our one and only

experts on some level
but not “experts.”

Only one experience
of parenting.

Existential
intuitive
creative
organic _ _ _

it still has a few
bugs in it.

We need to
develop workarounds.

Work arounds:
Can't fix the bug,
work around it.

Develop a workaround.

________________

Every once in a while
Tyler points
to the door and
communicates,

“He, Tyler, misses
his parents, Roger
and Zoë.”

“I miss my parents.”

Granma ’n Granpa,
reassure him that
his parents will
return.

But Granpa hides his sandals
all the same.
The thing is,
he hands them to you
to tell you,
“I'm ready to go home now.”

Reading with him,
or what might be
called:
Doctor Seussing
him.

So much strength,
energy,
and fragility.

Trying so hard;
to do it,
to make sense of it,
to tell you about it,
to ask you why?
and how come???

So much communication
with so few words.

Understanding
is so much more than words!

________________

With other children,
at daycare,
neighbour's care,
while Mom’s at work,

he learned a word,

“mine.”

So much more than a word,
so full of meanings.

Traveling back and forth
with his bag:
a few lego pieces,
including the lion
and the boy,
crackers in a baggie,
a no-drip drinking cup,
2 small boxes of raisins,
2 juice boxes,
1 apple,
1 orange
1 plastic hammer,
a change of clothes,
1 dinosaur shirt,
1 addidas shorts,
diapers,
pre moistened cloths
to wipe his butt,
and his “pony,”
baby powder
against the diaper rash,
his mother's comb,
and one large barrette.

All his.

“Mine?”

“Yes.
Tyler's.”

________________

Today he's staying with Granpa,
bag and all.

After Mom is gone
I reach into the highest cupboard
and offer him a new toy.

It's half the size of my hand,
Oscar in a boat,
on wheels,

designed to come apart
into three interchangeable pieces.

His eyes go wide and bright.
Oscar is a favorite,
even knows his name,

“awker” he pronounces it.

Absorbed for several moments,
then he asks, “Mine?”

“Yes,” I say, “It's yours.”
“It is Tyler's.”

”Mine?” he asks again.

“Yes it is Tyler's.”

He raises it up with one hand,
slowly, deliberately,
something on his mind.

“Mine?” he asks yet again.

Really wants to be sure.

“Yes.” I answer for the third time.

He raises his hand high,
Oscar and boat _ _ _

energies being generated,
transformed,
and focused,
into his hand
and onto Oscar and boat.

Then slams it down
to the tile floor.

The toy flies apart,
with the most beautiful
clatter and scatter

(into its three pre-arranged parts).

Tyler is breathless for a moment,
waiting my reaction.

I cheer him on,
“Good for you, Tyler!
Yes, it's really yours.”

He laughs, exhilarated,
looking around for the toy
in its pieces.

By way of lesson
I gather them up for him
and put them together
as I hand “awker” back to him.

“Here's your Oscar.”
He's surprised, and pleased,
to see Oscar back together again.

Now with even more drama,
enthusiasm, and joy,
he throws Oscar to the floor.

And this time he shouts, “Mine!”

________________

First Tyler lies down on the floor
in his “go to sleep position”
then he rolls out of it.

Behind my back now,
hiding from me.
“Where's Tyler?
Where is Tyler?”

I turn to find him,
all laughter and giggle.
I catch him in my arms
and lay him down again
on the couch.

Sleepier now.
His eyes wide open
but his gaze is calm
and he lets himself
go off to sleep.

______

Fast asleep
after his
swimming lessons
with Granma.

Swimming lessons;
naked in the tub
exploding with imagination,
splashing and kicking _ _ _

with Granma singing
her home-made songs.

_______

I reorganize
his jumble of toys.

Reorganizing,
waiting expectantly,
for his
creative de-construction.

Christmas Carols

________________

Watching “A Christmas Carol”
or “Scrooge”
as I prefer to call it.

Another bookkeeper being under paid
just like my Mom.

A traditional Christmas movie _ _ _

How to make capitalists
accept their social responsibility
in the management
and control
of the planet.

Send the angels of death
to advise them of the consequences
of their actions.

I start to yell at the tv.

“Capitalists of the world,
donate your money to charity!

You've got nothin' to lose!

Besides that,
it'll help stop the revolution!

Not to mention that it's tax deductible.”

_ _ _

Granma shushes me not to wake Tyler,

suffering for him as he frets in his sleep.

________________

Tomorrow is the Christmas Sabbath _ _ _

All the complexities
and contradictions
of religion and religions.

The young rabbi Jesus,
so we are told by tradition,
had an understanding.

Understanding,
wisdom,
compassion,
love.

He said,
so they tell us,
nothing of G-d
except Father,
nothing of Father
except Brother,
nothing of Brother
except Love,
and nothing of Love,
except Death,
and nothing of Death,
except Life Everlasting.

_____

Love:
A series of
dis-illusionments
and
re-discoveries.

Granparenting

________________

Granma Antonia (another granma)
had very special earrings on
when
little Samantha
must 'of
knocked one lost
as she hugged her granma.

When Granma realized the loss
she fretted for a moment
but then she said:

“What are those earrings worth
when compared to
the hug of my grandchild.”

________________

We,
Tyler and Granpa,
walked to the store
to get some Roman Meal bread _ _ _

Granpa's favorite.

Back home we opened it.

I offered him the heel
and he loved it _ _ _
then I made a grilled cheese,
and opened a fresh dilly.

Quiet as he ate ...
the dilly,
the grilled cheese,
a glass of water.

Sitting on a big people's chair,
holding on with his legs
straddling the chair
like a horse.

Then he began to nod off.

I guess as he did when he was nursing.

So I lifted him
to the couch _ _ _
put some country music on
very low _ _ _

and am writing this
sitting at the feet
of sleeping Tyler.

_____

What does the world look like
through my grandson's eyes _ _ _ ?

My world is fading _ _ _

This is his world now _ _ _
the world he will become
with his eyes, his heart, his mind,
his soul, his spirit.

His gaze re-generating
religion, relationships, work,
both money work and homestead work.

Even politricks, and politricksters _ _ _

Perhaps his own children
in their turn,

'n the blues about life.

The world thru his eyes,
ears,
nose, mouth, tongue,
fingers _ _ _
even his little “pony”

________________

Thru his eyes _ _ _

his language

Mine?

Mine!

Ouch?

Ouch!

Momma.
(Which has thousands of shades of meanings)

“Momma ouch! Mine?”

As Momma (Granma) irons her blouse,
on the cushions of the couch,
with the visiting travel iron.

Which is to say,

Be careful Granma,
you might burn yourself.
And since
you are not burning yourself,
may I have a turn.

_____

Or he asks me to stand up,
as I crouch by him,
by taking my hand in a lifting motion,
and as I stand in response,
he raises his arms,
asking to be lifted up,

and I do,
and he points to the top cupboards,
higher still,
so he can open them
and point at what he wants to see
and to have.

Without words.

Christmas Summer

________________

Have I mentioned
experiencing Christmas
in July ! ! !

I don't know what day it is _ _ _
time it is _ _ _
date it is _ _ _

I know the month is December
but the temperature,
and sun, and air, and plants,
and trees, and soil,
are all high summer
as I have experienced them
for 55 years.

________________

Sitting in the shade
between the apartment wall
and the road,
the breeze blows fresh
against the heat,
up the road from the south.

Still hard to tune into a summertime Christmas.

A sense of climate out of season
or Christmas very late _ _ _

As if a sailor away at sea during Christmas returns home in July and his family celebrates the Christmas they had saved for him.

As if my eyes can't see
the Christmas tree
for the brilliant summer sun.

After the hurricane

________________

Subsistence farms,

he and she,
slowly, patiently,
faithfully,
pothole farming,

gatherings of topsoil
in the ancient
coral limestone,

enough for a plant here
and a plant there _ _ _

Burned with salt,
after the hurricane
pushed the salt sea
ahead of it.

Salt sea flooding

salting the earth.

Hoping for fresh water rain
to cleanse the earth.

Nurturing
what has survived.
cup by cup
from the small rain water cistern.

The corn,
the tomatoes,
the melon,
the okra.

Salvaging the banana roots.

Christmas Blues Christmas Carols

________________

What is Christmas?

A celebration of Salvation.

Having been cursed by God
and thrown from the Garden

and now,
after thousands
and thousands of years
of pain and servitude,
of sweating toil
among thorns and thistles
for our daily bread,
always coming to the same end,
death and dust.

_____

Now the antidote
for that curse,
for that exile,
for that struggle and strife.

The anointed one,
the promised one,
the restorer,
Jesus, of Mary
and Joseph,
in Bethlehem,
The Christ.

And now what?

2000 years later,
give or take a few.

Where is this kingdom
that is within,
that is not of this world?

What did this young rabbi do,
exactly,
to remove the curse of God?

________________

It's the day before Christmas
and all through the apartments
people are stirring _ _ _
shuffling themselves awake.

The moon is still brilliant full
even hours after sunrise.

________________

What is Jesus all about?

Compassion for the powerless.?

Rage against the mammonism,
legalism, and classism
of the self righteous hypocritical
blind who are leaders of the blind.

________________

The day before Christmas.
Traffic on the road getting heavier,
people going this way and that _ _ _
to work,
to get food,
to get gifts,
to visit,
to leave the child
with Granma and Granpa.

Granma and Granpa
walking with their grandchild _ _ _
to get food at the store nearby.

________________

Past three churches.

What upset Jesus?

Was it church leaders
using their power
in an abusive manner
against those people
they are supposed to lead.

Leaders who instead,
tie them up
in moral and legalistic knots
while at the same time
they live their affluent lives
and hold themselves above the rules;

after all, what is power without it's privileges?

And what did he think we should do about it?

He tells us,
so they tell us,
the salt
that has lost its taste
is no good for anything,
and should be thrown out
and trampled under foot.

________________

Where do we find leaders
to lead the poor,

those who mourn,
those who hunger
for honesty and fairness,
those who are merciful,
those who are pure,
those who are peacemakers,
those who are persecuted
precisely because of their integrity,

to lead them
to a deep and confident joy
within a community of compassion
in the face of the tumble and struggle
of life on earth?

________________

Granma is washing up,
Granpa is writing _ _ _

“Where were you at Y2K?”

I am visiting with my grandson
and his family _ _ _

the family gets wider every day _ _ _

His people shout,
“Hello, Tyler!”
to this two year old,
as they pass us,
Tyler, Granma, and Granpa,
on the road.

_____

I am carrying
a very important person.

When I walk into the grocery store
with him on my arm.

They knew him, asking,
“Say, Tyler?”

but they weren't sure about me.

“Oh, we know who he is,
but we didn't know who you are.”

________________

Christmas Communion Service,
faith and community.

Baptism _ _ _

Who is Christian?
What is Christian?
Why is Christian?

_____

Keep it simple.

What is that old story,
the one that tells us
about the early Christians,
and how they were identified
by the love they had for one another.

“See how the Christians love one another!”

Merry Christmas.

________________

Now to the presents.

Baby Tyler at his second Christmas.

He was so calm.
Savouring each
new gift _ _ _
new toy
exploring it with curiosity.

What else is Christmas _ _ _ ?

______

And our other Gifts of Care and Love.

_____

Christmas
is watching Mr. Scrooge
have his bad dreams.

Ebenezer Scrooge,
a wheat trader,
buying low from the farmers,
selling high to the hungry poor.

Hoping to gain a monopoly.

Living his cold,
lonely, repressed life.

________________

As I went towards the clothes line
the huge gray heron
jumped into the air
and swept his wings
out over the sand,
and across the bay.

________________

Tyler,
playing a game with the small shell.

Throwing it ahead,
then looking for it,
and the excitement
about finding it again.

________________

Tis the day after Christmas
and all through the house,

I tumbled around
my grandson,
trying to keep up
with his imagination.

Trying to
Keep Up
With his
Imagination!

Learning each other's language.

Mine?
Mine.
Mine?!
Mine!!

_____

Seeing the mystery
of him
growing,
of our children
growing,
each into
their own mysterious future.

_____

Still the sandflies
continue
to “Shave”
Granma's legs.

Still they itch.

What are sandfly bites
next to the special times
I've had with my Grandson.

Absorption

________________

We are of an age
when the natural rhythms of life
have to be overturned.

All things moving
to the rhythm
of the pentium chip _ _ _

all things <YES / NO>
nothing <maybe>
maybe.

All things 24/7/365!
Cell phones
implanted in our brains.

How to resist
being drawn into
the black hole
of tv?

Absorbed into some virtual world
whose blood is the money
pumped along
by our compulsive consumption.

Pulled away from our roots
in time 'n space,
assimilated
into the categories
of “American”
MASS MEDIA-OCRACY,
and IDOLLARTRY,
the group that brought us
the goddess, BARBIE!

________________

I enjoy
this Greek corner
of the island.

The view
from my apartment,
of the blues of the sky
in the blues of the bay,
and the clouds,
and the moon,
and the sun,
coming and going,
rising and setting,
through all kinds of moods _ _ _

and the green growing hills,
white coral sand,
red tile roofs,
white stucco walls,

out of Paul's
and Tootsie's
imaginations.

And the imagination
of their children
and their children's children.

_____

“Been fishing?”

“Catch anything?”

_____

“Nope, been laundry-ing.”

“Clothes pins.”

Liberty

________________

JUNKANOO

Celebration of liberty,
of culture,
remembering slavery,

remembering roots
deeper than the kidnapping,

with
whistles,
goat skin drums,
the shuffling step,
The desire for life,
an enduring sense of life,
the rejection of the misery of life,
the celebration of life.

Happy New Year!

________________

The child's own, “No!”
The child's spirit of resistance
that develops person,
personality,
and personal power.

“No!
No! No!
No! No!, No! No!”

sing-songing it
with his hands over his ears
so you won't drown it out.

Even as a child,
we understand
that things can be
other than they are.

That things should be
other than they are.

That things must be
other than they are.

______

Liberty
begins in our imagination.

Imagination,
Hope,
Courage,
Perseverance,
and
more Imagination.

Fishing

________________

Fishing
with Captain Drexel.

The wind and sky
looked very different
from what he had expected.

Hard, dark, solid low cloud.

And the sea too.
Rougher and demanding.
Choppy,
blue grey.
Without depth,
unless it be infinity.

Captain Drexel blessed himself,
“We'll have this stuff
for about three minutes.”

So I blessed myself as well,
gave my life “back to god,”
as some might say,
and went with the roll of the boat
as we pushed through
the steel blue chop.

_____

Like on the bus back home
from the airport into town,
swaying in the isle,
holding onto the strap
hanging from the roof.

_____

The waves and caps and chop
have a relation to
the wind _ _ _
it can be read,
not changed
but read _ _ _
and you ride that.

_____

On the other side
jigging for bottom fish,
bait, hook,
let it out to the bottom,
up just a bit,

jigging _ _ _

jigging _ _ _

sixty feet down.

Feel it bite the squid,
tug it sharply,
set the hook
in the bony lips,
'n bring it up
hand over hand.

_____

“Fishing is like grocery shopping,”
I think to myself.
But the image is backwards !
“Grocery shopping !”

Grocery shopping is like fishing,
except you go to the store with money
instead of
hook, line, sinker, 'n bait.

_____

The trigger fish _ _ _
brilliant tropical colors,
tropical shape _ _ _
angel fish.

_____

Another bite.

I tug the line
to set the hook _ _ _

heavier than the
rest _ _ _

again I pull it
towards my world
and certain death.

Then a sudden hard tug.

Now she seems lighter _ _ _
hand over hand
to the surface _ _ _

As I lift her into
the boat _ _ _
I see the wound,
fully one-third
bitten off
by brother shark.
A bright red tear
left behind.

Homeward Heart

________________

Saturday,
January 1, 2000.
Morning.

Constantakis
Apartments,
Number 6;

looking
out across the sound.

A new year,

just being alive
is to be celebrated.

Coffee, sweet and light,

from time to time,
staring
into and beyond
the long
waving branches
of the coconut palm
outside the window.

Staring
into the rock from the beach.
looking through it
into its own history.

Why not a thousand years back,
or two thousand,
or three,
or one hundred
thousand
years.

My Grandson as well,
his family,
back to the beginning of time _ _ _
even the beginning of space.

The tree of life,
so old,
so tall,
so many branches.

________________

Death keeps talking to me.
Lighting my way
forward _ _ _

Lighting up life.

Life _ _ _

The spurt _ _ _

the flash _ _ _

making way for my Grandson _ _ _
now his Sister
growing in the womb,
drawing life
from Grandfather's roots.

She whispers to me
at night
when I relax
and free-fall into sleep.

Still anxious about
some loss _ _ _

What loss?
Can the leaves grieve
when they fall?

She whispers _ _ _

Shark and I
sharing the same meal
of Mackerel.

________________

Till the next time,

Granpa.