Saturday, June 21, 2025

NEXT GENERATION

 NEXT GENERATION 


Between 2017 and 2019, I wrote the following about our first grandson. The passage was from my autobiography, "So Far...". With the recent birth of our second grandson, Morien, the words remain equally relevant for both brothers. I wrote then:

"Quite naturally, Ascher was without question very precious to us.  He was our first grandson. Both grandmother and I busied ourselves to get to now this beautiful child. From the time of his birth we documented every imaginable moment with photos of him, sleeping and waking.  His parents and we couldn't seem to get enough of him. We dotted after him constantly. We attended to his every whimper, cry and coo. We carried and entertained him. And all except for changing his diapers -- you guessed it -- we captured his daily activities on our handy-dandy digital cameras.  We couldn't help but want to photograph him.  

"Why the compulsion? Did we sense the moment would never be the same? Was it testimony of a love we wished to share with him when he was older? Well, yes, it was all of the above. It was what parents and grandparents do and have always done, providing they have the love,  interest and means to do so.

"There was such an overwhelming sense of joy and pride. We felt compelled to love him even more. But why the heightened interest? The attention and satisfaction should have been no different than what was experienced with my younger siblings and our own daughter. Yet, this time around it somehow seemed different. Maybe, with siblings it was a task; with a daughter it was a responsibility; with a grandchild it was these and more. It was the desire to pass on and ensure our legacy, knowing for certain our own years were numbered.

"While we knew not his future anymore than our own, we had only high hopes, good wishes and considerable prayers for him. Among these, that his parents would be forever together to protect, guide and nurture him; that he would respect his parents and bring honour and happiness to them; that he would practice tolerance and respect for all, exercise good judgement and uphold proper moral decorum; that his life would be selfless and dedicated to the greater betterment of humanity; that he would have the forbearance to rise above adversity; that he would have a keen sense of humour, without malice towards his peers; that he would respect and marvel in the creations of this world, great and small; that he would believe and remember his Creator; and above all, that Allah would hear and grant our supplications.
  
"So, Ascher (and now Morien, your children and grandchildren), if you are reading this now, please heed my words, not just the ones in the  previous paragraphs, but the lessons in my life that I've recorded in this autobiography. Aside from the clinical and biographical accounts recorded herein, we are family. Aside from the genetic code that defines our relationship, our compassion and respect for family is the template for bridging the bonds of humanity. We are here in this world to aid one another. It is how we should be remembered. Let it be your legacy. Love humanity. Love the planet. Love life."

© Breyel, Timothy L. and Z.E. So Far, Chapter 16: Generations. 2019. All rights reserved.  No part of this text may be copied, broadcast, reproduced in print or electronically represented without permission from the author.


CODA TO LIFE

 CODA TO LIFE

 (Jamil Abdul Rahman)


We had been called to hospital, knowing his life was near an end. When we arrived at his bedside, customary salams were extended to each of us. He appeared alert and jovial, fully cognizant of our presence, even laughing at one point about a mischievous young man who stood in the room with us.

Life support machines pulsed and beeped, no indication that his life was in peril. A handful of family members and friends filled the room. His immediate family stood beside him. His wife took his hands in hers, while his only daughter, not yet in her teens, rested a hand on his forehead. 

Suddenly, without warning, he announced, matter of fact, he could no longer see. Seconds later, he began to recite the words "La ʾilaha ʾilla llah...La ʾilaha ʾilla llah...La ʾilaha ʾilla llah..." (There is no god but God.) At first, his recitation was clear and strong, repeating over and over the affirmation of Islamic faith. Within a few minutes his voice slackened. Words faded into unintelligible syllables, then phonemes, and silence. Unconscious, he drew his last breath, seconds ticking away, then nothing except more silence.

All was still. The room. His family. His body. 

© Breyel, Timm. "Coda to Life". All rights reserved.  No part of this text may be copied, broadcast, reproduced in print or electronically represented without permission from the author.



Friday, June 6, 2025

HEAD IN THE CLOUDS

Head in the clouds. 

Imagine lofty mind games

from out of the blue.


© Breyel, Timm. "Head in the Clouds". All rights reserved.  No part of this poem may be copied, broadcast, reproduced in print or electronically represented without permission from the author.


O-U

  O-U How to pronounce O...U when you two are together? How is it? Bounce. Pounce. Trounce. O-U, you troublesome vowel. Don't make me ho...