Monday, March 26, 2007
Charlie Shimek
When Charlie was diagnosed with colon cancer, plus metastasis to the liver, I wrote a poem about him.
“What is this,” he exploded, “my obit? I’m not dying!”
And indeed he wasn’t. After surgery and several rounds of chemo, the inoperable tumor on his liver began to disappear. His appetite returned; he began to gain back the weight he had lost; his yodel is improving. Now he is back to his old chipper self, taking his various wares to flea markets where he not only entertains folks but witnesses to his miraculous recovery. Soon he will be flying to Minnesota for a visit with relatives and friends.
Because of his Czech heritage, Charlie calls himself a “cancelled Czech”. Not yet, Charlie, not yet!
“What is this,” he exploded, “my obit? I’m not dying!”
And indeed he wasn’t. After surgery and several rounds of chemo, the inoperable tumor on his liver began to disappear. His appetite returned; he began to gain back the weight he had lost; his yodel is improving. Now he is back to his old chipper self, taking his various wares to flea markets where he not only entertains folks but witnesses to his miraculous recovery. Soon he will be flying to Minnesota for a visit with relatives and friends.
Because of his Czech heritage, Charlie calls himself a “cancelled Czech”. Not yet, Charlie, not yet!
Charlie Shimek
A lover of life is this wild mountain man,
distributing blessings wherever he can.
Proud Czech heritage shines bright in his eyes
that rival the blue in these desert skies.
From cold Minnesota he has traveled the globe,
the customs and language of natives to probe,
never meeting a stranger, as love he outpours
from a heart that's as big as all the outdoors.
For eleven years he sailed the seas
in US Navy dungarees,
and a patriot he'll always be
to keep this country proud and free.
He entertains all sorts of folks
with yodeling or corny jokes,
or whistles like a bird in song
to charm and captivate the throng.
In movies he lights up the screen,
a presence like you've never seen.
He's tough, yet gentle, kind and sweet.
In friendship he just can't be beat.
Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net
A lover of life is this wild mountain man,
distributing blessings wherever he can.
Proud Czech heritage shines bright in his eyes
that rival the blue in these desert skies.
From cold Minnesota he has traveled the globe,
the customs and language of natives to probe,
never meeting a stranger, as love he outpours
from a heart that's as big as all the outdoors.
For eleven years he sailed the seas
in US Navy dungarees,
and a patriot he'll always be
to keep this country proud and free.
He entertains all sorts of folks
with yodeling or corny jokes,
or whistles like a bird in song
to charm and captivate the throng.
In movies he lights up the screen,
a presence like you've never seen.
He's tough, yet gentle, kind and sweet.
In friendship he just can't be beat.
Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net
Sunday, March 11, 2007
Home is Where the Heart Is
The drive from Edgewood, New Mexico to Childress, Texas takes five and one-half hours. Eleven minutes of that time is in Amarillo between Westgate Mall and the Highway 287 exit off I-40, info that is bound to come in handy to somebody someday. If you haven’t been down that road in the last few years, you may not know that big impressive rest stops have changed the landscape just before it drops off at the Caprock. There on the Cedar Hills ranch, trees grow so thick that I wonder how cows could navigate such a pasture. But no matter how long the drive or how many changes, the area still feels like home.
Arriving just in time for Sunday night worship, followed by a Valentine party for us seniors, I enjoy visiting with old friends and acquaintances. A funeral and more visiting on Monday, then off toward Pecos for one night with sister Peg, who introduces me to the neat card game of Quiddler.
A bit northeast of Pecos is the little oil town of Kermit where friend Sylvia is adjusting to widowhood after 74 years of marriage. A cracked vertebrae complicates the problems of this tough time, and I marvel at her tenacity. For two weeks we compare notes, make short trips downtown on business, spoil the cute little white poodle named Julip, and enjoy the warm February weather.
Heading back into New Mexico, high winds that include sand and tumbleweeds make driving a struggle. As usual, I find myself heading west instead of north, as the map in my head is turned around again. Thank God and Chevrolet for the compass that helps me back to I-40 where the trucks are thick as lumps in my gravy. Trying not to be blown beneath them is enough stress to keep me awake until I reach the Edgewood exit and the 15 miles to home.
Even with piles of snow and 45 degree weather contrasting with Kermit’s warm climate, there is still no place like home.
Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net
Arriving just in time for Sunday night worship, followed by a Valentine party for us seniors, I enjoy visiting with old friends and acquaintances. A funeral and more visiting on Monday, then off toward Pecos for one night with sister Peg, who introduces me to the neat card game of Quiddler.
A bit northeast of Pecos is the little oil town of Kermit where friend Sylvia is adjusting to widowhood after 74 years of marriage. A cracked vertebrae complicates the problems of this tough time, and I marvel at her tenacity. For two weeks we compare notes, make short trips downtown on business, spoil the cute little white poodle named Julip, and enjoy the warm February weather.
Heading back into New Mexico, high winds that include sand and tumbleweeds make driving a struggle. As usual, I find myself heading west instead of north, as the map in my head is turned around again. Thank God and Chevrolet for the compass that helps me back to I-40 where the trucks are thick as lumps in my gravy. Trying not to be blown beneath them is enough stress to keep me awake until I reach the Edgewood exit and the 15 miles to home.
Even with piles of snow and 45 degree weather contrasting with Kermit’s warm climate, there is still no place like home.
Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net
