Little Joe’s Heart at rest


I am saddened to report that Little Joe has “joined the angels”. He gave life a valiant effort but in the end, was unable to win the fight.

My heart goes out to his parents and his beautiful sisters, who stood by his side throughout his too brief time with us.

I hope you will join me in remembering this little boy who brought so many people together and who reminded us how fragile life can be.

We can still remember Little Joe by continuing to spread the urgent need for people to register as organ donors. Although we were unable to help Little Joe directly, his legacy and memory will live on.

Peace be with you, little man. Know that you were loved.


Story background:

500 views of Little Joe’s Heart post

Little Joe’s Heart – An infant awaits a donor

A parent’s call in the darkness


A parent’s call in the darkness

A friend and his family are going through a rough time…the worst time a parent could ever go through.

His infant son has a failing heart and after several surgeries, continues to struggle. They face the reality that little Joe may pass away.

Knowing that it is up to the fates to help his boy, my friend has channeled some of his energy into the creation of a video, asking people to consider signing up with an organ donor registry.

Please watch this video and then do what you think is best to help spread the word.

Hug a loved one. Reblog my post. Write your own. Tweet the video. Post it to Facebook. Sign up to be an organ donor. Be grateful for what you have. Anything helps.

Even if you can’t help baby Joe, perhaps you can help the next person.

Weep not

Blue moon

Weep not, my love.

Release the sadness

That encumbers your heart,

Holding you earthbound

When you should soar.

Deny the anger

That blots your visage,

Shading your eyes

Where once smiles did dance.

You are beautiful

Of body and of spirit.

The world sings

Of your graces and charms.

Hear the song.

Feel the dance.

Rejoice in warmth

And weep no more,

For you are love.

Rainy night

Background lights reflect off watery pavement

Watery applause

filters through my window;

an atmospheric

stream of consciousness,

rafting my mind

to memories thought lost,

of friends, of love,

of pain, of loss.

Flushing rivulets

clear out the old

to make space for

sunnier days ahead.

Heavy rains make for sodden cycling

Heavy rains make for sodden cycling

Rain drops in such profusion that ripples annihilate ripples

Rain drops in such profusion that ripples annihilate ripples

Off guard


The tiniest of movements,

Almost imperceptible,

At the corner of her mouth

Told me all I needed.

She had heard me.

Her eyes resolute,

Focused keenly

On the wall ahead;

Tremulous in fear lest

She give herself away.

Pulse quickened.

Breathing changed.

Hands once relaxed

Now firmly planted

To still nervous thighs.

And so I repeat,

“I love you”

(Image used without permission mostly just to keep you guessing.)

Dream ‘scape

How do you say goodbye to a dream? How do you deal with the fact that you can only start a dream but have no control over how it ends?

Dreams don’t ever end the way you expect them to. My first clue should have been dreams of the sleep variety.

So often, for the ones I can remember on waking, my dreams start remarkably well for me; I am achieving something, accomplishing something, learning something highly desirable to me. But just as often—whether positive dream or nightmare—the dream veers off the course that I would have consciously or rationally chosen for it, and I find I am not as in control of the dream as I had hoped. When the dream ends or when I awake, I find I am in a different place than I expected to be.

So it goes, I am learning, with wakeful dreams; those moments of aspiration and decision where you consciously set yourself on a path to something different.

I have spent my life dreaming of a different existence, and in the last year or so, I have been very active in making those dreams my new realities. As time passes, however, I am coming to realize that I have only so much power to steer my dream once I have initiated it. It is like climbing into a barrel and rolling into the river above Niagara Falls.

The current will do what the current will do. The rapids will buffet me as they choose. Gravity is the great roaring sound in the distance.

But as much as I talk about passively floating downstream and letting the universe decide, there is still a part of me—the human part, no doubt—that feels if I just press my shoulder this way or press my heels out that way, I can right the barrel so my head is high or somehow adjust the forces acting on the barrel such that I remain suspended above the gorge when I hit the precipice. But I am wrong.

I cannot say with certainty that upon hitting the precipice, I will plummet into the waiting whirlpools and eddies at the base of the falls. However unlikely, according to my friend Isaac Newton, I might fall sideways. The river could reverse its course at the last second. I could wedge behind a rock and simply be buffeted in place. Or I could wake up and find myself in bed.

I chose to set the wheels in motion, but that’s all I did, and to a greater or lesser extent, that’s all I can do.

The next few months will be very telling for the directions my recently initiated dreams will take me. I may awake to find they were ephemeral. They may continue into idyllic fields. They may turn into nightmares. It is not up to me.

If a dream must end, it will end. And if it ends badly, then I shall be sad and maybe a little angry. The onus is then on me to start another one. It is all I can do.

Seven words

Seven words

The lifespan of a conversation never had

Pain unrecognized invalidated

Anger unexpressed unbearable

Disappointment ingrained unappeased

Sadness unutterable unrelenting

Despair intolerable unfathomable

Acceptance impossible unreachable

Hope unthinkable unrealistic

I am sorry that I hurt you

Seven words