I know you have worked for years at something and never felt satisfied with it. Perhaps you are an artist and continually try to create your best watercolor. You need the right paper, saturation, colors, light, the variables are infinite. Perhaps you are like my friend Mike, a world-class fisherman who continually finds a way to be better at it. Or, perhaps you are like my daughter, Lorhel, who always rises to a new and greater level at Viola. Even right now, she’s awesome, if she stopped now, she would be a great player, close to mastery. However, it’s our human nature to strive and achieve mastery. My friend Ed, is a master with so many tools and constructing that I am continually humbled by his skills. My wife, is so good at keeping the faith I am continually humbled by her diligence. Me, well, in my “old age” my goals are changing. I’m not trying to write the number one song anymore. I’m just normally trying to get a line in the water and get thru my work list and take care of my family. However, there is one goal that continually nags me, that is, perfecting BIGOS.
Even many Polish people don’t know what BIGOS is. BIGOS, pronounced BEE-GOOSE, is Polish Hunter’s Stew. A few years ago my father, Eddy and I were supposed to go on the September Salmon Fishing Trip together. However, Dad was hospitalized and then released just before the trip. He was too weak to go. I can still see him sitting there, on the couch, in his white robe, lamenting that he couldn’t go. You could tell he wanted to go soooo badly, but his body wouldn’t get him to the river anymore. I didn’t want to go, with him so sick, but he insisted that I go. Thus, Ed and I dedicated that entire trip in his honor. Despite his illness, he managed to make his last batch of BIGOS. He sent it up with us in two containers. Now Ed, being Irish, hadn’t had all the exposure to Polish Food that all men should have. Anyway, I heated up Dad’s BIGOS while Ed looked on with some trepidation. It only took one bite, and then the “Oh man this is good” comments started. The comments went on and on until not even a milliliter of BIGOS remained. It was one of the most awesome dinners of our lives, we couldn’t get enough of it. Although it was bitter sweet, it helped us have Dad there with us, eating his Polish Hunter’s Stew.
BIGOS has saurkraut, onions, imported mushrooms and a variety of meats in it. The flavors meld together in a symphonic choir performance of mastery. It speaks of cold nights on the farm in Poland, when my ancestors only had some cabbage, some onions, and a few scraps of meat to eat after a 16 hour day tilling the land. Over centuries, however, it developed into a dish fit for royalty. It is earthy, pungent, fermented, rib sticking food. It may seem simple, but just try to prepare a dish developed over hundreds of years from the mindset of a fly-fishing third generation Polack who just had the pleasure of eating it. I never had to MAKE it. Well, Dad passed on and the next fishing trip came and we tried to re-create the BIGOS. In went the kraut, polish sausage, onions, mushrooms and out came a pretty bad sour mess. “This is pretty bad” Eddy said, this is not like your Dad’s BIGOS. “Yeah it is”, I said, “it’s got all the stuff in it”, I recanted. “Well, it may have all the stuff in it but this isn’t your Dad’s BIGOS. There were a few more attempts at it on fishing trips, all falling short until Eddy found a recipe on-line and we talked to some more Polacks about how to do it. It turns out that you have to drain the saurkraut and then brown the kraut in butter to give it that edgy, smoky, buttery twist that really makes the BIGOS. So, over the years, I have strived to fry the kraut to the right level of browness, find the right meats and mushrooms and barley and then bake it in a roasting pan in the oven like Dad did. Tonight, I made yet another batch of BIGOS, taking time to get the imported mushrooms, brown the kraut properly, add three types of meat and VIOLA, out came my best batch of BIGOS ever. It was good, I had a bowl. I thought about a second bowl, and looked out the window and said to myself, “nah, that was good, but it wasn’t nearly AS good. Really, it wasn’t, there’s still something missing. The mushrooms weren’t the right kind, the sausage wasn’t made by Kowalski’s (a true Polish Sausage Maker), the blend wasn’t right. If I could have anything at all I wanted, if I found the Genie’s lamp, if God Himself gave me any wish at all….I can tell you it wouldn’t be money. It wouldn’t be fame, it would be one more day with my DAD. It would be one more day fishing with him and coming back to camp, and showing me once and for all how to make the BIGOS right.
I am very blessed to be the son of a master fisherman, a father beyond comparison. He cooked for me, changed my diapers at a time when men just didn’t do that. He cheered me on at little league games and introduced me to the awesome majesty of Northern Michigan and stream fishing. He delighted me in tasting a dish that took me back generations in time, to my Polish roots. He took me places I can never go again, because he is gone. Neverthless, he left me with a great legacy, to continually strive for the best. I know I can never be half the man, but it’s good to taste a little bit of that tonight, ever-knowing it’s only a second best.
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Monday, August 25, 2008
Life and Death.
I see now that for me, moving here or not was a matter of life and death. Today, I had to say goodbye to a patient who died of heart failure. Unfortunately, I barely new her. I only met her a few days ago when she was very sick, in the end stages, the last breaths of her life. In Findlay, I was experiencing the lasts breath of my life in many ways, at least my career life. I was tired, I was too busy, I was ready to go home. I was very much like this dying patient, as she was ready to go “home”. She was tired, she had given it her all, but had nothing left to give. There was no reserve. We tried all the usual things, and were as aggressive as we should be. But alas, her heart was too weak and despite the best of modern medicine, we couldn’t resurrect her heart.
I see the parallel of her life and mine right now. I came to the emergency room of Northern Michigan, in the final breaths of my life if you will. I was getting fat, and sad and lazy, and needed a doctor. I am no longer “fat”, and back into clothes I haven’t worn in years. My spiritual “doctor” is a new Church and friends, and the Great Lake in front of my door, the rivers, the streams, the sun coming up over the cedar forest on my way to work. It is the patients who see me in the local coffee shop, restaurant and gas station and give me a pat on the back and say “how you doin’ Doc?” Each day I wake I cannot wait to look out the window and see what the Lake is doing. Is it calm? Are the great white caps putting on a show? Is it warm? Cool? Are there deer drinking from the stream next to my house? I love the first cup of coffee in the morning again. Instead of an essential medicine to get me out the door----the coffee is just an adjunct, a way to get me going to a place I want to be. I love getting to my job, and maybe making a bit of difference again.
Unlike my patient who passed on today, I at least have a few more hours. You know, like my brother Ed told me the other day, “it’s a BONUS”, he said, and I paraphrase. What he meant is that he said each day and moment is a bonus now. Think of how many of our friends have passed on in thier prime. Many of them heroes for our nation, many from disease, all too many before the age of 50. Thus, I realize I have been given a great gift. I am really “living the dream” as my friends said. At first, I thought they meant that because I am so near to many lakes and trout streams. However, now I know what it really means. I am where I want to be. Hah, I’ve NEVER been able to say that, I AM WHERE I WANT TO BE. Sure, I could use a lot more money. I could be the perfect father and husband and have perfect children. BUT, that’s not going to happen. Certainly, I have the perfect wife, but beyond that on this Earth, the only perfect thing is where I wake up in the morning. When I look out I see the great expanse of one of the World’s Greatest and Biggest Fresh Water Lakes. This is my front door. The breeze, my deodarant, the dew, my bath, where the sky and the water meet, my psychiatrist. I am, the luckiest man on Earth.
I see the parallel of her life and mine right now. I came to the emergency room of Northern Michigan, in the final breaths of my life if you will. I was getting fat, and sad and lazy, and needed a doctor. I am no longer “fat”, and back into clothes I haven’t worn in years. My spiritual “doctor” is a new Church and friends, and the Great Lake in front of my door, the rivers, the streams, the sun coming up over the cedar forest on my way to work. It is the patients who see me in the local coffee shop, restaurant and gas station and give me a pat on the back and say “how you doin’ Doc?” Each day I wake I cannot wait to look out the window and see what the Lake is doing. Is it calm? Are the great white caps putting on a show? Is it warm? Cool? Are there deer drinking from the stream next to my house? I love the first cup of coffee in the morning again. Instead of an essential medicine to get me out the door----the coffee is just an adjunct, a way to get me going to a place I want to be. I love getting to my job, and maybe making a bit of difference again.
Unlike my patient who passed on today, I at least have a few more hours. You know, like my brother Ed told me the other day, “it’s a BONUS”, he said, and I paraphrase. What he meant is that he said each day and moment is a bonus now. Think of how many of our friends have passed on in thier prime. Many of them heroes for our nation, many from disease, all too many before the age of 50. Thus, I realize I have been given a great gift. I am really “living the dream” as my friends said. At first, I thought they meant that because I am so near to many lakes and trout streams. However, now I know what it really means. I am where I want to be. Hah, I’ve NEVER been able to say that, I AM WHERE I WANT TO BE. Sure, I could use a lot more money. I could be the perfect father and husband and have perfect children. BUT, that’s not going to happen. Certainly, I have the perfect wife, but beyond that on this Earth, the only perfect thing is where I wake up in the morning. When I look out I see the great expanse of one of the World’s Greatest and Biggest Fresh Water Lakes. This is my front door. The breeze, my deodarant, the dew, my bath, where the sky and the water meet, my psychiatrist. I am, the luckiest man on Earth.
Monday, August 11, 2008
Is “Freaky” the WORD?
One of the finest human beings I ever met just sent me an e-mail about meeting somebody who knows me. Now, the “freaky” thing is, this friend moved to a state very far away from Michigan and Ohio not much sooner than I moved to Northern Michigan. Maybe you haven’t realized it, but I am rather remotely far from anywhere you have ever been. However, despite that, my friend met his son’s girlfriend’s grandmother who knows me from HERE!!!. I should say this state is as far away from Michigan as Oklahoma, maybe more, but I don’t have a map in front of me. The point is, we are all connected when we love, respect, know and share our love of God with one another. I am feeling so overwhelmed with “irony” about this right now, I am speechless. Anyway, let’s go deeper….
I recently had the privilege and honor of playing music together with my family for a dear friend’s wedding. I can’t tell you what a joy it was to be playing guitar along with Sarah playing Harp, Lorhel playing Viola, and Jomay playing piano. This wasn’t easy music, this was classical stuff, and it carried beautifully on the wind. The gathering was mesmerized I am told at the reception, I know I was, it was perhaps my best musical moment of my life. One school teacher in her 60’s said it was the finest wedding music she has ever heard. I wasn’t at all surprised, I think it was, really. I thought, later, that 100 years ago, families gathered after the work day, the harvest, etc. and read the Bible together, or a book, or brought out the instruments and played together. Before internet and t.v., this was how we connected, this is how we spent our few leisurely moments together. We enjoyed one another, depended, needed, loved and respected one another. Today, a family that stays together like this, unfortunately, is a little “freaky”.
The bride that we played for is like a daughter to us, she has been on multiple vacations with us, house sat for us, and has been our children’s baby-sitter for a decade. Unfortunately, the bride’s mother could not be with us, as cancer took her life this year after a very long battle. Nevertheless, Karla was with us, her spirit was everywhere. It was apparent from the first moment as the pastor told a story about her and the Bride choosing a wedding dress together earlier in the year. Then, the unity candle wouldn’t lite---bad wick, the matches couldn’t get it. However, they were able to use the candle from the alter that they lit for Karla that burned brightly, to finally get it going. They were struck by the fact that Karla again saved the day, and realized that she was there with them, That is not the end of the story….
After the recessional, as folks slowly filtered out the front door, my son and I went into the hallway toward the back door to pick up the instrument cases so we could pack up. As we stood in the hallway, the very heavy steel and glass door back entrance opened up spontaneously. There was a rush of wind past us as the air from the Church found it’s way to the outside world. After about 30 seconds, the door then closed before our eyes, on it’s own. We both stood there speechless, until Jeffy said: “that was Karla.” Now, I am a scientist and would definitely find an earthly answer for this phenomenon should it exist. However, I know for a fact that door was closed solid because I was the last one in to use it. My first thought wasn’t of Karla, I was just looking at it from the practical point of view, trying to ascertain how this could be. Then I started thinking about what Jeffy said, and realized that it certainly was a spirit, an angel at least, and yes, maybe even Karla. My first thought was this is “freaky”, but then, it isn’t the first time I have experienced the supernatural. It was an even more beautiful moment that joined with the best music my family and I have ever played together. Hence, I knew God’s hand was upon it all, I knew he was there, certainly, Karla was there too.
Soon after this event Pastor Ben came up to Jeffy and I and started to talk, we told him about the “freaky” event. Although he is more used to the supernatural than I, it was clear from his face that with all the events of the evening, the unity candle event, feeling the Spirit present, that it was yet another piece of evidence that God is present in our lives always--that miracles are still happening and possible. There was a look of wonder on his face as he said that the word is not “freaky”, but possible, true, and “Godly” is the word.
Isn’t life great to know that this isn’t all of life? There is another world that awaits us. A better world filled with the best possible music, a world without disease such as cancer and pain, and suffering. By our standards, that’s a little “freaky”, but by heavenly standards, it’s just another day!
I recently had the privilege and honor of playing music together with my family for a dear friend’s wedding. I can’t tell you what a joy it was to be playing guitar along with Sarah playing Harp, Lorhel playing Viola, and Jomay playing piano. This wasn’t easy music, this was classical stuff, and it carried beautifully on the wind. The gathering was mesmerized I am told at the reception, I know I was, it was perhaps my best musical moment of my life. One school teacher in her 60’s said it was the finest wedding music she has ever heard. I wasn’t at all surprised, I think it was, really. I thought, later, that 100 years ago, families gathered after the work day, the harvest, etc. and read the Bible together, or a book, or brought out the instruments and played together. Before internet and t.v., this was how we connected, this is how we spent our few leisurely moments together. We enjoyed one another, depended, needed, loved and respected one another. Today, a family that stays together like this, unfortunately, is a little “freaky”.
The bride that we played for is like a daughter to us, she has been on multiple vacations with us, house sat for us, and has been our children’s baby-sitter for a decade. Unfortunately, the bride’s mother could not be with us, as cancer took her life this year after a very long battle. Nevertheless, Karla was with us, her spirit was everywhere. It was apparent from the first moment as the pastor told a story about her and the Bride choosing a wedding dress together earlier in the year. Then, the unity candle wouldn’t lite---bad wick, the matches couldn’t get it. However, they were able to use the candle from the alter that they lit for Karla that burned brightly, to finally get it going. They were struck by the fact that Karla again saved the day, and realized that she was there with them, That is not the end of the story….
After the recessional, as folks slowly filtered out the front door, my son and I went into the hallway toward the back door to pick up the instrument cases so we could pack up. As we stood in the hallway, the very heavy steel and glass door back entrance opened up spontaneously. There was a rush of wind past us as the air from the Church found it’s way to the outside world. After about 30 seconds, the door then closed before our eyes, on it’s own. We both stood there speechless, until Jeffy said: “that was Karla.” Now, I am a scientist and would definitely find an earthly answer for this phenomenon should it exist. However, I know for a fact that door was closed solid because I was the last one in to use it. My first thought wasn’t of Karla, I was just looking at it from the practical point of view, trying to ascertain how this could be. Then I started thinking about what Jeffy said, and realized that it certainly was a spirit, an angel at least, and yes, maybe even Karla. My first thought was this is “freaky”, but then, it isn’t the first time I have experienced the supernatural. It was an even more beautiful moment that joined with the best music my family and I have ever played together. Hence, I knew God’s hand was upon it all, I knew he was there, certainly, Karla was there too.
Soon after this event Pastor Ben came up to Jeffy and I and started to talk, we told him about the “freaky” event. Although he is more used to the supernatural than I, it was clear from his face that with all the events of the evening, the unity candle event, feeling the Spirit present, that it was yet another piece of evidence that God is present in our lives always--that miracles are still happening and possible. There was a look of wonder on his face as he said that the word is not “freaky”, but possible, true, and “Godly” is the word.
Isn’t life great to know that this isn’t all of life? There is another world that awaits us. A better world filled with the best possible music, a world without disease such as cancer and pain, and suffering. By our standards, that’s a little “freaky”, but by heavenly standards, it’s just another day!
Thursday, August 7, 2008
Elements
Time to play catch-up on the Nook happenings. The weather has been so incredible. Almost every day is sunny, warm and breezy now for the past two weeks. I make it a point to include vital elements into every one of my days. First, I get up and make coffee, the brain at 50 doesn’t work without it. Then, I try to spend a few minutes talking to God. He’s the only one that listens to my complaints regularly. Then I either bike or kayak, depending on the weather. If I am working that day, I go to work, if not, I try to do a fun thing with my wife and family. That could mean touring, fishing, hiking or just cooking a meal together. Then, I always need to include some work in my day. My friend Dave told me the other day I have “hyperactivity disorder” because of that. I can work long and hard when I need to. Not, mind you, like Ed, but I make a pretty good show of it. If I am at the job, then the fun comes after—such as shooting clays or archery, or kayaking. I find this balance is amazingly therapeutic. Throughout the day I ponder this balance as I look at the sunrise and sunset from my southerly view, and then I also see the golden/orange moon sit down over my “front yard” now on a daily basis. I am so wonderfully blessed with this place, I can’t get enough of it.
A patient came up to me tonight at Jeffy’s first football practice and asked why I was here because he heard I was on vacation. Did you go anywhere? He asked. I told him that all my life I have been trying to get up here for all of my vacations. I told him that everything I need is here, that I don’t every want to leave. I expected him to grunt, or chuckle, but he just looked off at the boys conditioning on the football field, turned to me, and grinned. He didn’t say a word, just smiled. It was all we both needed, because he obviously feels the same way.
As Jeff walked out onto the football practice field for the first time tonight, not knowing a single boy, my heart bled for him. I could not imagine doing that, pulling up cold, coming from the “big city” to a small country town and school, not knowing what to expect, how I would be treated, etc. I prayed and hope for the elements to come together for him. He was only there a minute or two when another boy came up and introduced himself. Then I saw him take Jeff around and introduce him to the other boys. Turns out that was the varsity coach’s son. Ironic in that I was talking with the varsity coach at the same time. The varsity coach was there to help out, and was telling me about all the boys, how so many of them were strait A students, and polite and hard working, etc. He told me that these boys stick together, they encourage one another, and seek for the right “elements”.
As those boys left the practice field, I noted how red-faced and dirty they were, they were worked hard, to a horses “lather”. Yet, every ONE of them was smiling. As Jeff and I drove home, I asked him how it went. He said it was very cool, that they were all really nice, and encouraging. He really liked what the Coach said about life---that this is what is important, in this order: 1. God. 2. Family. 3. Football. 4. Hunting. I really can’t argue with that. I might put fishing ahead of Football, but, the point is made. Those are the correct elements. It was an incredible delight to see Jeff so happy, finding his own elements come together. At this point, it is like Findlay, Ohio is already a nice memory, not a sore spot. He has adapted, he has improvised, he has overcome. He has garnered his elements together, on the first practice. I only wish I could have done so well at 13!!!
A patient came up to me tonight at Jeffy’s first football practice and asked why I was here because he heard I was on vacation. Did you go anywhere? He asked. I told him that all my life I have been trying to get up here for all of my vacations. I told him that everything I need is here, that I don’t every want to leave. I expected him to grunt, or chuckle, but he just looked off at the boys conditioning on the football field, turned to me, and grinned. He didn’t say a word, just smiled. It was all we both needed, because he obviously feels the same way.
As Jeff walked out onto the football practice field for the first time tonight, not knowing a single boy, my heart bled for him. I could not imagine doing that, pulling up cold, coming from the “big city” to a small country town and school, not knowing what to expect, how I would be treated, etc. I prayed and hope for the elements to come together for him. He was only there a minute or two when another boy came up and introduced himself. Then I saw him take Jeff around and introduce him to the other boys. Turns out that was the varsity coach’s son. Ironic in that I was talking with the varsity coach at the same time. The varsity coach was there to help out, and was telling me about all the boys, how so many of them were strait A students, and polite and hard working, etc. He told me that these boys stick together, they encourage one another, and seek for the right “elements”.
As those boys left the practice field, I noted how red-faced and dirty they were, they were worked hard, to a horses “lather”. Yet, every ONE of them was smiling. As Jeff and I drove home, I asked him how it went. He said it was very cool, that they were all really nice, and encouraging. He really liked what the Coach said about life---that this is what is important, in this order: 1. God. 2. Family. 3. Football. 4. Hunting. I really can’t argue with that. I might put fishing ahead of Football, but, the point is made. Those are the correct elements. It was an incredible delight to see Jeff so happy, finding his own elements come together. At this point, it is like Findlay, Ohio is already a nice memory, not a sore spot. He has adapted, he has improvised, he has overcome. He has garnered his elements together, on the first practice. I only wish I could have done so well at 13!!!
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