Goodfellows52: Slamming the door on closure

Goodfellows52: Slamming the door on closure: Writer's note: Writing a book review is not my forte. This is a letter addressed to Nancy Berns who wrote a brilliant book called "Closur...

Slamming the door on closure

Writer's note: Writing a book review is not my forte. This is a letter addressed to Nancy Berns who wrote a brilliant book called "Closure." I found it fascinating. The book is an in-depth look at how "Closure" is overused. For a man who has suffered loss, I can assure you there is no closure for me. But this book is worth a good read from an author who did a fine job covering a lot of ground about this tired word. Here is a link to one of her lectures:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w0rCfXSdYPE

Sunday, September 30, 2012

Dear Nancy Berns,

For me, there is no such thing as "Closure." It is a tired word used by media and grief-ravaged people looking for an instant end to their sadness that will never come. 

When it comes to death's stark finality, "Closure" and grief don't belong in the same sentence.

While I appreciate how you tackled this complicated subject, I believe grieving is a lifelong process with no end. I have discovered that I live with gnawing pain, but I refuse to permit grief to dominate my life.

That's why I find your book refreshing, eye-opening and well done.

I know you have suffered the most devastating loss of all — the death of your child.  I am truly sorry, because I know how much I cherish my son. You can read about our adventures at www.goodfellows52.blogspot.com.  Despite your heartbreak, I am glad you found a way to complete this book.

From a personal standpoint, using a stopwatch to time grief is a lesson in futility.

I lost my mother and nearly a dozen loved ones who shaped my life.  That parade of death continued with the demise our mothers, two friends who committed suicide due to this oppressive economy, and a former co-worker who was murdered — all in a period of just two years.

My mother's death was like having a house dropped on me. There is not a day I don't think about her. It has been nearly three years, and the thought of closure has never crossed my mind. I am not depressed or find myself curled up in the fetal position, but there is a huge sense of longing that continues to this day. 

I understand loss and that our deaths are inevitable. Like John Donne wrote: "Every man's death diminishes me because I am involved in mankind."

But whenever I hear the word "Closure" described as one of the stages in the grieving process, I shake my head.

It's really absurd.

I want to "close" out my letter with these thoughts. Your book was thorough and enlightening, but it confirmed my beliefs: There is no closure - just a lifetime of longing and endless sorrow tempered by time.

Thank you again, and I am sorry for your loss.

Sincerely,

Anthony Blasi

53 Valley Street

Auburn, Maine o04210

Goodfellows52: Sailing the seven seas

Goodfellows52: Sailing the seven seas: “ I must go down to the sea again, to the lonely sea and the sky; and all I ask is a tall sh...

Sailing the seven seas

“I must go down to the sea again, to the lonely sea and the sky; and all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by.”

 John Masefield quotes (British poet, 1878-1967)

BATH - There's a place where Maine's maritime history is on display and offers visitors a unique perspective on the life of hardy mariners, master shipbuilders, the state's shipping industry, and the role it played on the high seas.

Last Sunday, the Maine Maritime Museum threw open its doors to the public for free to celebrate its 50th anniversary. You could say our ship came in for this family of three. A visit would have cost us $40.00 for the day. That was generous of the museum to do this for a public who undoubtedly enjoyed its fine exhibits, the back drop of the Kennebec River and its life-affirming sea breezes.

My son has a passion for maritime history - especially naval vessels from all nations. For a baseball fanatic, this is like going to Fenway Park to watch the Red Sox come undone.

A cool fall day and brilliant sunshine made for spectacular afternoon to catch a glimpse of the Bath Iron Works, which is just up the river from the museum. It took us nearly four hours see everything the museum offers. If you enjoy walking, love the ocean and all its lure, and had a secret desire to become a swabby and sail the seven seas, this is the place to spend a day.

There are numerous exhibits and illustrations inside the main lobby and there are also informative outdoor displays.

If you are a reader, it will take you about 90 minutes to visit the indoor exhibits. During our tour, the museum featured "The War of 1812" display,  cannon and a two-shot flint-lock pistol, two cannons from the HMS Boxer, gowns from the Saco Peace Ball, and Letters of Marque signed by President Madison. 

Model ships of the past will make you pause and stare as you marvel at these complicated exhibits. There is a large, working engine of a ship, whaling gear, a ship's doctor's surgical instruments, sabers and numerous pictures of Maine's maritime past. 

The gift shop has an impressive array of books about the maritimes.

For children, there are working displays, and what child wouldn't want to get behind the helm of a ship, watch a boat launch or tour a mansion.

Master Anthony aboard the Sherman Szwicker

One of the most impressive, working exhibits is the Sherman Szwicker - a sailing yacht that is a twin-mastered schooner built in Canada in 1942. It offers a great deal of room thanks to its deep draught, and the entire yacht is 142 feet long. It is beautiful sailing vessel that is moored at the museum.

The museum is also restoring a section of the Maine-built, American clipper ship, Snow Squall. 

According to the museum's Web site: "She made voyages all over the world, carrying valuable and time dependent cargoes. In 1864, she was heavily damaged trying to round Cape Horn and was abandoned in the Falkland Islands. Through conservation efforts, In 1987 she was brought back, a fragment of her former self, as a unique surviving artifact of the age of American clippers. The bow section and others parts of the Snow Squall were recovered and are now housed at Maine Maritime Museum."

The museum's location is so large it includes numerous outdoor exhibits. There is the Boat Barn that features small, sleek boats, and the Lobster Shack houses about dozen lobster boats.

Across from the museum sits the Donnell House - a roomy Victorian-era home. According the Museum's Web site, the home of shipbuilder William T. Donnell is being restored. You will marvel at its rooms and priceless furniture.

If you are drawn to the sea, then hop aboard and take cruise through time as the Maine Maritime Museum helps all visitors navigate the Pine Tree's ocean-going past.

Goodfellows52: Harvest moon

Goodfellows52: Harvest moon: My splendid carrots and freshly grown gourds, which I call affectionally call gordo. AUBURN - My garden is coming to an abrupt end.  ...

Goodfellows52: Harvest moon

Goodfellows52: Harvest moon: AUBURN - There is strong evidence that my vegetable plants have been using performance enhancing fertilizer. My plants look lik...

Harvest moon

My splendid carrots and freshly grown gourds, which I call affectionally call gordo.

AUBURN - My garden is coming to an abrupt end. 

September's cool nights and fading sunshine means fall is taking over and squeezing out summer.

September is like a mafia thug closing in another crook's territory.

But my hardier plants hang on. I looked at my carrots and saw they were ripe for picking. My pristine soil has yielded a bumper crop of these tasty, orange wonders.

I began yanking carrots left and right and can't wait to throw them in the steamer Sunday. I will also blanch the rest of several giant zucchinis. I lost a bunch of tomatoes to blight.

But my carrots look just fine, thank you.

What a way to end a growing season that gave me one of the most spectacular gardens I have grown.

AUBURN - There is strong evidence that my vegetable plants have been using performance enhancing fertilizer.

My plants look like they have been juicing, and I would like to know where they got this illegal substance. 

There could be a huge scandal at 53 Valley Street, and the controversy could be comparable to the United States congress investigating Major League Baseball for steroid use

I might be forced to contact the proper authorities or go before a grand jury to testify against a bunch of vegetables that have given so much to me this summer.

There is no question my vegetables came across with the goods. 

I estimate, and this is no tall tale, I produced a bumper crop of 30 cucumbers, 30 summer squash, 20 zucchinis, a couple of hundred tomatoes, and I still haven't pulled my carrots. The broccoli and Swiss chard continues grow. I had about 300 blueberries because I trimmed them and offered words of encouragement.

But thanks to cool Maine nights and a drenching rain, my tomato plants have expired and everything has slowed down to a walk in my Garden of Eden. Right now, I still have Swiss chard, broccoli and carrots to pick until October. They are the hardiest plants in the fall.  I also had an abundance of pears and blue berries. 

Life was certainly sweet for gardeners in the Pine Tree State this season.

I have frozen about 20 pounds of summer squash and zucchini, and there is frozen tomato sauce lining the freezer in my refrigerator. 

I never fertilized my garden. The soil is that good. 

But I think there are two reasons why my garden was a success this season, and I swear by these two key ingredients.

I had plenty of wood ash to go around after my neighbor generously donated nearly 3,000 pounds for freshly cut ash.

After a bit a research, I was surprised to learn that wood ash in small amounts is beneficial to a vegetable garden. I began dumping the stuff on the garden throughout winter.

In the spring, I began spreading lush grass clippings and began using it to smother weeds around the plants, which took a lot of pressure off my back and knees.

But here's the deal when using my secret ingredients to nurturing a bountiful garden.

You can't burn crap in a wood stove and then apply its poison-ridden ash to an unsuspecting garden. And you can only use grass clippings if you didn't fertilizer your lawn.

Oh, and one more thing: Talk to your plants. Tell them you love them and want them to be good plants so that when they grow up, gardeners can be proud of them each growing season.

Look, gardening is a passion, and I enjoy eating vegetables that are not laced with pesticides. Besides, watching things grow alleviates stress in a world that is a mess for the moment.

Goodfellows52: Faire thee well

Goodfellows52: Faire thee well: "Become a student of change. It is the only thing that will remain constant."                                                    ...

Faire thee well

"Become a student of change. It is the only thing that will remain constant."                                                                                                                             Anthony J. D'Angelo

LEWISTON - Something spectacular happens when you gather a bunch of low-maintenance and intelligent kids and ask them to create technology projects that will spark a child's curiosity.

Anthony is member of this group who participated in Lego Robotics and solar powered cars competitions in junior high. 

That old gang from Auburn Middle School held a reunion, sort to speak, to demonstrate their knowledge of technology during the Mini Maker Faire at Bates Mill on Saturday afternoon.

Their inspiration came from a dedicated schoolteacher - Jim Rowe, who has been running this succesful program at AMS for years. 

There were other creative geniuses at work at the Faire. One young man built a working telegraph that caught Anthony's eye and there was a booth where participants were taught how to make toy airplanes out of styrofoam. There were also do-it-yourself wind-power projects and weaving.

All good stuff for creative minds.

And if you needed a break from looking all the demonstrations, a tour through Museum L-A is equally impressive. The museum documents the area's history of work and community.

Mr. Rowe helped supply the material for his formers students and helped them prepare of Saturday's event.

Watching this bunch of focused kids and how they went out their way to answer questions from children and adults was impressive. 

The guys even performed a couple of demonstrations, racing solar powered cars down the old floors of the Bates Mill.

I was proud of my son for pitching in to help make their demonstrations a success. His friends also went the distance to show other children that learning in and outside the classroom is a worthwhile endeavor.

Goodfellows52: September Mourning

Goodfellows52: September Mourning: "But now in September the garden has cooled, and with it my possessiveness.  The sun warms my back instead ...

September Mourning

 

"But now in September the garden has cooled, and with it my possessiveness.  The sun warms my back instead of beating on my head ... The harvest has dwindled, and I have grown apart from the intense midsummer relationship that brought it on."
-  Robert Finch 

"'Tis the last rose of summer,
Left blooming alone;
All her lovely companions
Are faded and gone."
-   Thomas Moore, The Last Rose of Summer, 1830

LEWISTON — We have only so many summers to spend with our son before he sets out on his own, leaving us with hundreds of pictures and dozens of home-made movies of our moments with him.

Time does this to all parents, and it explains why September gets a bad rap from me.

I can smell September at the end of every August. 

It is like a damn prowler lurking in the shrubs, and I am the one who gets mugged every fall.

September's distinct odor emanates from grass covered in a dewy glaze and drifts through the cool nights as the days grow shorter.

If you can't detect September's cruel presence during August's last gasp, then you are suffering from allergies or are oblivious to the world.

September acts as a sign post for autumn — a season that quietly shoves summer aside and subtly prepares us for Old Man Winter's arrival.

September is deceptive and messes with our minds with Indian summers and cool nights. It tries to persuade us to let go of summer and move on to winter.

I am never sold!

I have always dreaded September's entrance. My abhorrence for the ninth month of our calendar began as a child, who spent most of his youth at Revere Beach during long, hot summers.

September's appearance meant summer was about to get the heave-ho, and its arrival added up to fewer trips to the beach thanks to the opening of another school year. 

Every time September tapped me on the shoulder to remind me summer was finished, my siblings grew older, and we would eventually be dispersed throughout the world. No longer would all four of us be together on those sandy shores, eating pizza in the boiling sun. 

It was September's fault and its appearance always made me depressed. Oh sure, I got over summer's abrupt end by November, but it doesn't make it any easier each August.

But if it means I have to suffer through another September to spend another glorious summer with my son and wife, then I will withstand the pain of a heavy heart and be grateful there is a May, June, July and August.

My dislike for the month grew during long high school football practices in August's stifling heat. September's repugnant odor was at its strongest on the practice field, and after running wind sprints for 20 minutes, all I could think about was a dip in the cold ocean — and of course, girls.

And now I lament as another summer passes and my son is a year older and an inch taller. But I am fortunate he still makes time for his mom and dad and enjoys trips to the ocean with both us. He is a low-maintenance young man with high aspirations, and there is not a day I am not proud of him.

Then September comes along and spoils our fun in the sun.

My wife and son are back at school and the house suddenly becomes empty. Not good for a guy suffering from mood swings at the hands of September.

For the last 19 years, the L-A Balloon festival has become another one of September's  reminders that summer is on the way out. We have watched the launches nearly every year at Railroad park in Lewiston. The three-day event is worth getting up at 5 a.m., especially when about two dozen balloons of all sizes and colors are launched into the sky.

It is a sight to behold as these unique balloons disappear into the heavens — along with another wonderful summer and all its splendid moments.