Oh my heart. I needed this story tonight. The simple, profound beauty and humanity of an adolescent boy “figuring this life out,” offering care and flies to his most immediate experience of god, while she patiently listens. There is hope.
The catfish weren’t the only young ones hatching that summer. The frog wasn’t the only one caught in a trap. Your compassionate care and feeding of Jade paralleled the job you were granted. What a superbly crafted story, David!
J.T., you honor me with such generous reading and commentary. Thank you for wading in, for trusting enough to make the journey and for offering such kindness in reply. Namasté
David, I adored this installment. What a picture to imagine—those lonely long nights and then your three-legged friend. It’s a brilliant mind that recognizes the camaraderie among all of us creatures. And there’s something so beautiful and endearing about this glimpse into the development of that recognition. ♥️
This - "During these respites above the Earth, reaching for the sky at dusk, divergent realities from unbending worlds focused hot upon my heart." how evocative of our teenage dreaming.. beautifully translated by you.
Though, I wonder, as I often do after reading Raisin' up Catfish, how todays 15 year old would cope with such a situation as you did David? The "rain soaked piles of fetid, rotting mush" the maggots and flies, how would the average so 'entitled' youngster of this 21st century have reacted? I dare not wonder...
Susie, it has taken a bit of ‘sitting with’ before attempting to reply, your question as real to me, I’d guess as it is to you. I have no way of knowing how a fifteen year old today might handle some of those tricky spots any more than a fifteen year old who wasn’t me, back then. We are all so very different, and without question there are teenagers today, so many having to live daily, much braver lives than I ever did.
You are very compassionate in your reply David and of course I cannot argue. There are many teenagers today who live a life the like of which is beyond any either of us could possibly imagine, those that have had to suffer the hardships and travails of war come so starkly and heartbreakingly into view right now. These children are not only brave but would be eternally grateful just to have a safe place to sleep even if it did mean hard graft in return.
Perhaps, although it is hard not to, I shouldn’t compare my own childhood, or yours, to those children I teach daily, times have changed as did those before us, but imagining any one of them swilling out a stinking pigsty, with rats screeching and scampering every which way as I did or your own heaving mass of maggot infested putrid mush, with their designer nails and sneakers, their immaculately gelled hair, their hands as limp as their social network induced personalities is unfeasibly difficult. Or maybe I'm just old fashioned !
When I read, "Sometimes I felt I would be swallowed up by it all, spirited away …drunk on the magic, the audacity of it all. Maybe I would never find my way home again, I thought.", it really hit me just how intense those summer days & nights were . So much push & pull---the demanding physicality of your job plus all the astonishing beauty, plus your range of emotions---so overwhelming.
Your glimpse that night of the little tree frog seems like a gift of some sort, I don't know what to call it---but I love how you immediately untangled her, operated on (!) and fed her. There's something sweet and magical in the way she met you on that desk for fly feasts after that---unafraid---and such a good listener.
And so... I'm left with the notion that even as swirling undercurrents of feelings surfaced during those long hours of focused night duty, the little green-flash tree frog brought at least some relief to your heart.
Toni, like Susie’s note, yours asked for a bit of time before replying. Jade was absolutely a godsend that allowed heartspace for a struggling kid who wasn’t finding much of if anywhere else. Someone was always watching. But not out there at that screened in hatchery in the middle of the night. No one eavesdropping or looking at me through trouble-tinted lenses trying to figure me out or set me up for their next con job. I could be more of a kid and I could stop to take in a sunset, or moonrise without worrying that someone would think I was slacking. Which allowed room to feel them, lean into them, surrender momentarily, without anyone questioning my sanity.
Oh my heart. I needed this story tonight. The simple, profound beauty and humanity of an adolescent boy “figuring this life out,” offering care and flies to his most immediate experience of god, while she patiently listens. There is hope.
The catfish weren’t the only young ones hatching that summer. The frog wasn’t the only one caught in a trap. Your compassionate care and feeding of Jade paralleled the job you were granted. What a superbly crafted story, David!
J.T., you honor me with such generous reading and commentary. Thank you for wading in, for trusting enough to make the journey and for offering such kindness in reply. Namasté
I love this limpy frog.
Your note makes me smile, Diane🥰
David, I adored this installment. What a picture to imagine—those lonely long nights and then your three-legged friend. It’s a brilliant mind that recognizes the camaraderie among all of us creatures. And there’s something so beautiful and endearing about this glimpse into the development of that recognition. ♥️
You show me such kindness by making time to offer these encouraging words Holly. 🙏 Thank you.
This - "During these respites above the Earth, reaching for the sky at dusk, divergent realities from unbending worlds focused hot upon my heart." how evocative of our teenage dreaming.. beautifully translated by you.
Though, I wonder, as I often do after reading Raisin' up Catfish, how todays 15 year old would cope with such a situation as you did David? The "rain soaked piles of fetid, rotting mush" the maggots and flies, how would the average so 'entitled' youngster of this 21st century have reacted? I dare not wonder...
Susie, it has taken a bit of ‘sitting with’ before attempting to reply, your question as real to me, I’d guess as it is to you. I have no way of knowing how a fifteen year old today might handle some of those tricky spots any more than a fifteen year old who wasn’t me, back then. We are all so very different, and without question there are teenagers today, so many having to live daily, much braver lives than I ever did.
You are very compassionate in your reply David and of course I cannot argue. There are many teenagers today who live a life the like of which is beyond any either of us could possibly imagine, those that have had to suffer the hardships and travails of war come so starkly and heartbreakingly into view right now. These children are not only brave but would be eternally grateful just to have a safe place to sleep even if it did mean hard graft in return.
Perhaps, although it is hard not to, I shouldn’t compare my own childhood, or yours, to those children I teach daily, times have changed as did those before us, but imagining any one of them swilling out a stinking pigsty, with rats screeching and scampering every which way as I did or your own heaving mass of maggot infested putrid mush, with their designer nails and sneakers, their immaculately gelled hair, their hands as limp as their social network induced personalities is unfeasibly difficult. Or maybe I'm just old fashioned !
How i love this book, David…
How I love knowing that my sis has my back. Love you.
I think... maybe the little frog also had an answered prayer, in you.
I had not considered that Julia, but I like a world view that leaves room for us to seem as gifts to one another. Thank you for such generous reading.
You are a storyteller. I am mesmerized...
I’m so touched by your kind note, Linda. 🙏
When I read, "Sometimes I felt I would be swallowed up by it all, spirited away …drunk on the magic, the audacity of it all. Maybe I would never find my way home again, I thought.", it really hit me just how intense those summer days & nights were . So much push & pull---the demanding physicality of your job plus all the astonishing beauty, plus your range of emotions---so overwhelming.
Your glimpse that night of the little tree frog seems like a gift of some sort, I don't know what to call it---but I love how you immediately untangled her, operated on (!) and fed her. There's something sweet and magical in the way she met you on that desk for fly feasts after that---unafraid---and such a good listener.
And so... I'm left with the notion that even as swirling undercurrents of feelings surfaced during those long hours of focused night duty, the little green-flash tree frog brought at least some relief to your heart.
Toni, like Susie’s note, yours asked for a bit of time before replying. Jade was absolutely a godsend that allowed heartspace for a struggling kid who wasn’t finding much of if anywhere else. Someone was always watching. But not out there at that screened in hatchery in the middle of the night. No one eavesdropping or looking at me through trouble-tinted lenses trying to figure me out or set me up for their next con job. I could be more of a kid and I could stop to take in a sunset, or moonrise without worrying that someone would think I was slacking. Which allowed room to feel them, lean into them, surrender momentarily, without anyone questioning my sanity.
Thank you for sharing.
Love it! A magical frog shows up in all the crazy…a perfect possibility on the trail of life🐸
This sentence: "A magical frog shows up in all the crazy…a perfect possibility on the trail of life🐸"
Dayummmm! Thank you.
I so enjoy these stories about a place and time I didn't know enough to wonder about.
I'm so pleased to have your generous eyes upon them, Sarah. Thank you!