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silence

Published 1.December.2008 frustration , silence , steadylife , thoughts 0 Comments

I’ve gone silent. It’s not that I’ve had nothing to say, just that there seems to be little time to say it. Maybe that’s a lie. Maybe its not a lie.

As I get older, I find that its more and more difficult to find times of silence. Even when everything seems to be silent, there is a dull hum that often times sounds like a roar. The heat runs. The heat stops running. A plane flies over head. A car goes by. Greyson cries out in the middle of the night.

Last week we went to visit my wife’s family in Charlotte, NC. I don’t think I can count a minute of silence on the whole trip.

I want to find a place where I cannot hear any man made sounds. Can you tell me where that is?

My little man snores

Published 28.October.2008 family , fatherhood , good things , gson , smiles , steadylife 0 Comments

Suday afternoon Greyson was playing near the TV cabinet and predictably he hit his head. There is always a moment of silence as the event registers with him, then wailing. So I picked him up and got him a binky. He settled down relatively quickly and I sat down on the couch with him in the crook of my arm. Taffy was sitting on the couch as well and she was watching something about the Queen of England and the rest of the royal family on PBS.

After a few minutes, Taffy said, “he’s snoring.” Indeed, Greyson was snooring, having fallen dead asleep with his head on my belly. He’s only 10 months old, but the little dude almost never falls asleep on me anymore. It was great. Taffy got up and I switched the TV a football game, laid back and let the little dude sleep on my chest.

I’m gonna miss it when he stops falling asleep at random on me.

To all those who said Joe Paterno should retire

Published 25.October.2008 football , good things , karma , penn state , smiles , steadylife 0 Comments

You will live to eat your words. Joe rocks. End of Story. 9 and 0 baby, 9 and 0.

lines found on a lost hard drive

Published 24.October.2008 dad , death , frowns , frustration , mortality , poems , steadylife 0 Comments

After the Fire Fades

In the unquiet mind of misery
thoughts dash and dart
during the night. Sleep
becomes fitful, stopping, starting,
ending, as morning comes too early.
Even the birds are confused
singing spring songs in November.
The train rumbles in the distance.
Heartburn wakes me at 4:30, or
another nightmare. I am living
the nightmare. It’s the Big Chill,
without being funny. We are only
in our thirties. When did this start happening?
I am driving to see a friend who is dying.
Other friends will be there. Maybe it won’t
hurt as much as I think. It will. It does.
I’m reminded of other deaths

Kelli’s sick.
What do you mean?
Kelli’s sick, cancer.
Cancer? What kind?
Breast Cancer.

(Mom has breast cancer,
Kathy had breast cancer,
They are fine)

What do the doctors say?
Five years, maybe less.
Speechless I sit on the bed.

Riley has black hair.
Kelli’s hair is gone. She wears a wig now.
Riley, three months and content
in the arms of a big stranger.
He cries knowing Riley may never know her mom.

How is Kelli doing?
She’s doing good.
Don’t’ ask, Don’t tell.

In the funeral home,
two survivors meet one.
Thank you for coming
to my father’s funeral.

Trout walks for Avon. The girls,
Dave and I Unload baggage.
Five trucks of baggage. 250 walkers
bags. My muscles ache for days.

Sitting around the fire, we chat.
Even now Kelli is terminal,
but we don’t know
She tires easily.
When I met her
We danced to 6AM.
Not even five years
have past.

Driving from the airport again:
Kelli’s been having seizures. Jamie can’t
work any more. We are going up Friday night
to make pottery.

We can’t go tonight.
She is not doing well.
What do you mean, not doing well?
Difficulty breathing.

How’s Kelli doing?
Not good, A matter of days.
We need to go see her.
I know, we’re going tomorrow.

I am driving to see a dying friend.
Better call Shawn. Voice-mail.
This is an awful thing to leave on voice-mail
I’m sorry.
Sixty degrees, sunny and cold.
The angle of the sun gives a false sense
of warmth this time of year.
I haven’t even thought of tears
until Shawn calls back.
I know this must be hard for you.
Choked up. I breath heavily
wishing to go back to Bethesda before
when things weren’t so wrong.

My god, she is sick. You can’t,
don’t, won’t cry in front of her
she might not know. she knows
don’t be stupid.
Dennis warbles hello.
Sparkle, smiles she lights up
she knows us, but can’t get the
blanket arranged on the couch.
She struggles stubbornly, Sit down
Kel, Can we get you anything.
She sleeps. No words are spoken.
Riley has blond hair now, curly and wild.
She’s two, or almost two.
Kelli smiles at the child. She gets up
talks to her daughter. Riley knows
where her esophagus is.

We have to leave. Hugs and kisses.
I whisper, I love you. She loves me too.
We know. We share the misery.
Dennis is crying in the kitchen.
Tears stream down our faces. We pull it
together, together.

Better call mom.
Did you write something once about a match?
What? Why even spark the match?
Maybe. Mary Furlong gave Matthew
This paper and said,
I think this is Damien’s.
It looks like your handwriting.
Mom reads a poem long lost, forgotten.
Powerful words for a seventeen year old.
There must be an afterlife. Something more.
Life sparks and burns with fury, then flickers
and fades, if theres’ nothing more
why even strike the match?
Do you think Dad will be waiting for her?

  (Dad, Kelli’s coming. Take care
  of her for us. I know you will.
  We’re taking care of mom and Jamie.
  We’ll see you at the big one after
  the fire fades.)

-DED, 2002

Small World

Published 23.October.2008 giving back , good things , karma , penn state , smiles , steadylife 0 Comments

I’ve donated to my alma mater every year since I graduated. I think that’s why they keep calling me. The conversation usually goes something like this:

“Hi mister DeVille, this is Jennifer and I’m a Penn State Student…” I’m always friendly, because well, I like Penn State and when you do get a talkative student, sometimes you hear something interesting about the university.

Last night it was Courtney on the phone. She was cheerful and I was feeling like I could make a donation to the libraries fund. So she’s confirming my address and she asks, “is that near DC?” I said, “yes it is, I work in Silver Spring.” She says that she’d like to move to the city after school and that she grew up in a small town in PA. I ask her which town. Gettysburg.

Well, I grew up 7 miles south of Gettysburg in Maryland, so I told her that, and here’s where it got interesting.

She says, “I went to Mother Seton in Emmitsburg”

“So did I,” I say, “and then I went on to Delone.”

“No way, so did I, and so did my father, he graduated from Delone in 1986.”

“I started at Delone in 1986, I missed going to High School with your father by a year”…

We laughed about it and talked briefly about some big families in the area and it was kind of cool. So the werid thing is that Penn State has roughly 40,000 undergrads. Delone graduates about 150 kids a year. Statistically speaking, I’m thinking its really unlikely that one of the Delone grads would call me. Mother Seton had about 30 kids per class, so it becomes even more unlikely that a Delone/MSS grad would call me from Penn State.

It really is a small world out there.

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