Pray That You Are Not Put To the Test.

Even the strongest body can be torn by violence.

Death can stop the richest heart.

The sharpest mind can carnage still ruin.

War torments even the faithful soul.

Harvest at the Pierson Farm

Tomorrow my family is celebrating joint occasions, my grandparents’ 60th wedding anniversary and my grandpa’s 80th birthday. Grandma and Grandpa (Mike and Marilyn) Pierson are my only remaining grandparents as my father’s parent’s (Irene and Bernard Westhoff) have both passed on. I love both sides of my family so much and we’ve been blessed with many cousins and aunts and uncles.

These family occasions always make me reminisce about the past and tonight I caught myself thinking about growing up visiting the Pierson farm near Wiley, CO. About this time of year all the cousins would flock to the little farm that Grandpa and Grandma made their home so many years ago. August was harvest time for Grandpa’s sweet corn, and we all gladly helped where we could. We had quite an operation going, too. Grandpa and a couple uncles and hired hands would patrol the field, picking ears by hand off the tall stalks and sending them back to the house in 5 gallon buckets. There, Jeff and Ryan and some of the other older cousins would chop off both sides of the cobs and once again toss them in buckets. Next, the cobs went to Daniel, Megan, the Peecher girls and my older sister (the “middle” cousins) for shucking and removing the silks (sometimes I got to help with this too, and that meant only one thing, I was growing up!). This is where Grandma finally got her hands on the corn as she boiled every single one for just the right amount of time. As I was so young most of the time at the farm, my duties came last. I helped take the freshly boiled corn and cut the kernels off the cob for freezing (we couldn’t eat all of it in one night, no matter how hard we tried). Sometimes, when you got lucky, the kernels would strip off the cob in giant slices, still connected at the bases. That was the pinnacle, that was what I worked for. Seeing that knife slice perfectly down the side of the cob like butter as the kernels peeled away like a strip of sod was the same as seeing a beautiful car cut through the summer air to my young eyes. Of course, not a single strip of kernels ever made it into the plastic freezer bags. No, I devoured those sweet slices as soon as they hit the cutting pan. They were too perfect for plastic baggies and freezing, they deserved to be eaten immediately.

I’ll write more tomorrow night about my grandparents, for tonight, I just wanted to record my memories of those wonderful times on the farm… God Bless.

Father Dan

Ok, so if you read my last blog, you know that this morning was really weird. Well this afternoon really wasn’t much different. I would sit down to work on my paper, eventually get frustrated with my thinking about other things and go for a walk. This happened several times. So anyway, as I walked in the rain (thinking, of course) I kept running into this one priest. Father Dan is an amazing guy and I’ve talked with him A LOT this semester (pretty much anytime that something has bothered me) and he just seems to be everywhere I am when I am in most need. He is an extremely jovial man and his laugh is incredibly infectious. At the same time, he always seems to know something is wrong just from a glance. So like I said, I kept bumping into him on my walks. He was at the intersection of the paths. As I walked through UMin I could hear his laugh echoing. He was outside of Doyle Hall as I entered it. Over and over! Each time he was headed somewhere so we never really said much besides pleasantries. However… after the first meeting it seemed he could tell something was up. He laughed when he saw me and then he asked how I was and I said (lyingly), “Fine.” That’s when he lost the grin and cocked his head at me. He didn’t say anything but when he left he looked back. I felt like I had troubled him, which troubled me. Later, the final time we found each other, I looked at him and said (before he could say anything really), “Again!” He was with another priest walking and he smiled and said, “Yes!” But then… as I walked by he turned and said to me behind the other man’s back, “Soon, Mark. Very soon,” and he smiled that huge grin and walked away. I almost stopped in my tracks. I don’t know why. What did he mean? This has been what I’ve thought about all afternoon now. The thing is, every time I think about those words and I see that round cheery face, balding head, gray beard, and ear to ear smile… I feel better. I think, “He’s right. Soon is right.” I still don’t know what “soon” is, but I know he’s right. That’s kind of all I need I guess.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m still in a weird state… I’m still shaking my head when I type things (like this) and I’m still thinking about everything, but… in the back of my mind… I know one thing:

“Soon, Mark. Very soon.”

The Strangest of Mornings…

I am in… the strangest place right now. It’s only 1 but it has been a most strange morning. I can’t put my finger on it, but something has really thrown me off today.

Maybe it’s that I couldn’t sleep until 6 am after reading my friend’s blog which snapped me back to a time last semester when I couldn’t think straight.
Maybe it’s that I had the strangest night of intermittent stops and starts in my sleep, each occurring in the middle of strange and irregular dreams that I can’t even describe.
Maybe it’s that after all that I woke up early for class today, a class I never wake up early for.
Maybe it’s that immediately after I woke up I received a text from the last recognizable person in my final dream.
Maybe it’s that when I looked outside it was raining and I completely expected it.
Maybe it’s that as I walked to class the “rain” wasn’t sticking to me, but bouncing off my jacket and cap (almost a sleet, but not ice).
Maybe it’s that all through class I simply drank my pop and everything probably seemed normal to everyone, I joked some, I took notes, I got lost in the lecture, finally I left and ate lunch. All normal, but at the same time completely the opposite.
Maybe it’s that everywhere I walked I could feel people looking at me and almost being upset to see a “scowl” on my face. I could see their surprise and I wished I could tell them all, “It’s not a glare, my eyebrows are lowered because I’m thinking.”
Maybe it’s how I felt like I couldn’t tell them this, no matter how much I wanted to or tried. I felt almost trapped behind the expression on my face.
Maybe it’s how I could feel my heartbeat in all my extremities, and how my lips slowly became more noticeable to me as they become dried because I haven’t really closed my mouth all morning.
Maybe it’s how I glanced at the dining hall schedule on my way out of it and discovered I won’t have any food from Friday night until Monday afternoon. And I expected it.
Maybe it’s how when I made that simple glimpse at the chart the small Asian lady who swipes our cards spoke to me. She had been talking to someone else, who was between us, and the person left at the same time that I walked by and she leaned back in her chair and said to me (though she wasn’t looking at me at all), “I’m sorry, you’ll have to find something else to eat over the weekend, seeing as you’re staying over break. Maybe order something since you can’t cook in the dorm you’re in.”
Maybe it’s how I haven’t ever really talked with her before, much less ever mentioned to her that I was staying this weekend or which dorm I live in.
Maybe it’s how my eyes keep going out of focus when I’m really thinking about something hard.

On the other hand,
Maybe it’s just the paper I have due tomorrow that I can’t write.

So even after that lengthy and somewhat strange description of my morning and why I might feel how I do… I’m lost. I look at what I wrote and just kinda shake my head…none of it really makes sense to me. Hell saying it doesn’t make sense didn’t even make sense. It’s like there’s something inside me just itching to get out through my fingertips and use this keyboard to explain itself but I’m not doing a good enough job. And I know that because whatever it is that wants out is not happy with the job I’m doing. Causing me to scowl and think and shake my head when I don’t get it right yet again. When I read that it sounds very creepy. It’s not like a possession, don’t get me wrong. It’s more like… I know there’s something inside that I want to try to explain, and I am upset with myself that I can’t figure it out. I guess that’s a decent enough explanation because when I read that I finally didn’t shake my head in disgust, but rather shrugged as in “Well, I guess…”

So I guess this is kind of a plea. To no one really. Because I know that no one really reads this blog. But I obviously can’t figure it out on my own. Maybe… just maybe… if someone reads this and they get inspired… tell me. Maybe that’s the answer. Maybe.

Fail

When my senses all fail
Dreams of you overcome my mind,
Truly tangible memories.
For I can’t shake the stamp you left on my faculties:

My ears only respond to your tones.
Your scent outlasts even the sweetest flowers.
When others touch me, my skin crawls with your desire.
The taste of your lips haunt my own.
Worst of all, my eyes deceive me daily,
They long to be set upon you,
and never break gaze again.

But miles teach an unwanted lesson,
And as my senses soak in this knowledge,

They fail me.

Piercing Eyes

Piercing eyes,
Unwavering, unflinching, seemingly unblinking, touch my soul from the outside. Lock with mine and I fall to your mercy. For that moment I am lifted, and all my being longs for it to never end.

Immaculate smile,
Sends me spinning into bliss, to the moon, the stars, and everything holy. Shows your joy. Transcends me. Your happiness is my goal, your smile, my reward.

Divine memories,
Ever growing more plentiful. Constitute all my thoughts. Sustain my inner need for you while you are away. Replenish themselves when you are near. Make seeing you again even more exciting, like a wonderful dream constantly realized.

Words Can’t Explain

No word is strong enough, and no phrase so pure.
A song can’t do it justice, either.
The chords just don’t exist that can fully state how I feel.
You bring such joy with your smile.
But even “joy” can’t cover the emotion!
And when you’re down, as low as you can go,
I feel an urgency to raise you up, like you always do for me,
Because everytime I see you, bad memories are erased.
My mind clears and there is only you.
How do I describe such an effect?
I find myself speechless in your presence.
Seeing you feeling bad makes me feel like. . .
The did not rise in the morning,
The earth stopped spinning.
Like music lost its sound,
Or heaven closed its pearly gates.
As bad as it seems, your happiness overpowers it!
As strong as my emotions are when you’re down,
They are even stronger when you aren’t!

Words just can’t explain how I feel,
Because you’re in my life,
And chose me to be in yours.

Only to Think

All I want to do is think about you.
Only then can I see your face.
Your eyes and smile are clear when I close my lids.
When they are open, the world clutters my vision;
And blocks your image from me.

I long to simply hear your voice,
But I know I mustn’t speak the desire,
Because my voice will resonate in my own ears,
And will end my chance for silence.
Only in the holy silence do I hear you.

So my whole being lives in this moment.
In the dark and silent night.
During the day I fake enjoyment,
For the light and noise bother my thoughts,
And I can’t see you in my mind.
But I wouldn’t want to, not then,
Because to associate you to that bustle,
Would contradict how I truly love you. . .
In the dark silence.