On a February day a long time ago, Mom was driving a grade school version of me west on I-105. For reasons I can’t remember, we were alone in the car without my three younger brothers. The freeway bent behind the pulp mill, where towering stacks billowed clouds of sulfurous smoke beneath a steely sky. If you didn’t see the peeling paint on downwind cars or the cottonwoods along the river with bark becoming orange, if you didn’t see the sudsy detergent spewing just downstream into the McKenzie River or were too young to know that even in an otherwise all-white rock-solid blue-collar town it was the poor people who lived next to that stinking gray pall; if you didn’t smell it and held your eyes just right … it could be beautiful.
I think I've always liked February well enough, and Happy Birthday! My youngest son is February boy. I also gravitate to those sunny places to live whenever possible.
That's a good gift request you've set, I shall work on that!
I somehow could picture you and your mom driving past the mills. She was a wise woman, and damn, she loved her sons. This line: "The dwarf month in late winter when people join hands and stare at their navels in communal depression." How I laughed!! Well, you know me and my dark humor. And btw, drinks on me when you get back. Time for us to rip up a few and catch up. Happy birthday, my dear friend. You rock!
Amen, Tom. I will remember your mom and kindness for the unloved. Maybe I'll start with starlings, pigeons, and house sparrows. Happy birthday.
Thank you for this gift of a gift. Happy birthday to you, and bless your mom!
I think I've always liked February well enough, and Happy Birthday! My youngest son is February boy. I also gravitate to those sunny places to live whenever possible.
That's a good gift request you've set, I shall work on that!
Thank you for sharing this beautiful imagery and, as always, the depths of your heart and soul.
I somehow could picture you and your mom driving past the mills. She was a wise woman, and damn, she loved her sons. This line: "The dwarf month in late winter when people join hands and stare at their navels in communal depression." How I laughed!! Well, you know me and my dark humor. And btw, drinks on me when you get back. Time for us to rip up a few and catch up. Happy birthday, my dear friend. You rock!
Many to love and care for within reach of our hugs …. Happy birthday Tom !
It’s a great value for me to work on: loving the unlovable. Thank you for the nudge and happy birthday. Judy
This resonates with me. My parents dedicated their lives to serving the poorest of the poor.
Wow. Your mom and her molding of both the young and not-so-young Tom Titus come into clearer and clearer focus. Happy Birthday, Tom! —-Charlie