A mother’s hug lasts long after she lets go.

Miss you mama.

I remember this poem for my distant past…

Somebody’s Mother
– Mary Dow Brine (1816-1913)

The woman was old and ragged and gray
And bent with the chill of the Winter’s day.

The street was wet with a recent snow
And the woman’s feet were aged and slow.

She stood at the crossing and waited long,
Alone, uncared for, amid the throng

Of human beings who passed her by
Nor heeded the glance of her anxious eyes.

Down the street, with laughter and shout,
Glad in the freedom of “school let out,”

Came the boys like a flock of sheep,
Hailing the snow piled white and deep.

Past the woman so old and gray
Hastened the children on their way.

Nor offered a helping hand to her –
So meek, so timid, afraid to stir

Lest the carriage wheels or the horses’ feet
Should crowd her down in the slippery street.

At last came one of the merry troop,
The gayest laddie of all the group;

He paused beside her and whispered low,
“I’ll help you cross, if you wish to go.”

Her aged hand on his strong young arm
She placed, and so, without hurt or harm,

He guided the trembling feet along,
Proud that his own were firm and strong.

Then back again to his friends he went,
His young heart happy and well content.

“She’s somebody’s mother, boys, you know,
For all she’s aged and poor and slow,

“And I hope some fellow will lend a hand
To help my mother, you understand,

“If ever she’s poor and old and gray,
When her own dear boy is far away.”

And “somebody’s mother” bowed low her head
In her home that night, and the prayer she said

Was “God be kind to the noble boy,
Who is somebody’s son, and pride and joy!”

Now that our visitors from Korea have arrived safely.  Welcome to America Sohee and Junsoek!

And after a long flight on United Airlines with crappy miguk food, they were ready to chow down on some Korean goodness…

…I just hadn’t seen him in awhile.

Last night at the Bull and Barrel I had the pleasure of encountering an old dart buddy who doesn’t get out to Itaewon much these days.  It had been a few years since we last talked but I was pleasantly surprised that he was up on all my latest happenings.  Well, at least the ones that were posted on this pitiful blog.

It was great seeing Fred again.  And to encounter someone who actually reads LTG was a definite treat. What are the odds?
Cheers!

But I suppose you could say that about any first birthday.

Sydney Renee had a nice little shindig today which she undoubtedly will not remember.  Unless one day she reads my blog.

It seems like every social event brings calls for some of Jee Yeun’s Korean food.  Accordingly, she cooked up a big batch of galbi on the grill.

Me and the birthday girl.

And the guests of a certain age enjoyed this bouncy castle.

Assa!

Dressing formally in the traditional hanbok.

And as if by magic an ice cream truck arrived.  They must have child seeking sensors in those things.

Anyway, it was a good time on a special day…

The obligatory picture of my incredibly cute granddaughter enjoying her spaghetti dinner.

While I was in Memphis last week I got to spend some time with my dad’s brother, Bud.  He was wearing an 8th Air Force ball cap so I asked him to tell us about his service.  From his enthusiastic telling of “war stories”  it seemed clear that the time he spent on those B-17s were among the best years of his life.  He told me about training to be a pilot, eventually washing out, and then being sent to gunnery school.  Which is how he wound up being the belly gunner on the B-17, which he called the best damn plane every built.

I can’t imagine the courage these guys had to have. 

This is not Uncle Bud’s plane, unfortunately I don’t have a picture of his.

My dad, Walter Lee McCrarey, grew up in Memphis.  My grandfather was a riverboat captain, and like him, my dad loved the Mississippi.  Dad also spent most of his adult life sailing the oceans of the world with the U.S. Merchant Marine.  In fact, he first went to sea at the age of 15 in 1942 serving on the freighters carrying precious war cargo to the UK.

Dad wasn’t a particularly religious man, nor did he have much sentimentality regarding his mortal remains.  Many times he reminded us that it wouldn’t make a whit of difference to him if we threw his dead body on the curb when he gone.  Instead, we donated his body to the University of South Carolina Medical School in accordance with his wishes.  When the medical students were done with him, he was cremated and the ashes were returned to the family.

Well, I was mindful of the fact that he didn’t want any big deal made of his remains, but I nevertheless had a box of “cremains” staying in my house and I wasn’t satisfied with that arrangement.  In consultation with my brothers, it was decided to place some of the ashes at mom’s grave site (she was sentimental that way) and the rest would be deposited in the Mississippi river where they would eventually make their way to sea, just as he had so many years ago.  And so that’s just what we did.

Dad (standing, 3rd from left) with some of his buddies on a fishing expedition.  I’d like to imagine it was near the same spot on the river where we deposited his ashes.

Dad in his early days with the Merchant Marine.

In his later years at sea he was still keeping those big engines turning…

And he never lost his love for the open sea.

Brother Keith carrying dad’s remains to the riverside.

This is the spot we picked to say our final goodbyes.

Keith recited one of dad’s favorite poems:

I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,
And the wheel’s kick and the wind’s song and the white sail’s shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea’s face, and a grey dawn breaking.

I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.

I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull’s way and the whale’s way, where the wind’s like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick’s over. 

–John Masefield

And then we poured him into the muddy waters of the Mississippi river.

So we said our goodbyes in the best way we knew how.  And then we went on with the business of living.

Time, flowing like a river…

Time, beckoning me
Who knows when we shall meet again
If ever
But time
Keeps flowing like a river
To the sea

Goodbye my love,
Maybe for forever
Goodbye my love,
The tide waits for me
Who knows when we shall meet again
If ever
But time
Keeps flowing like a river (on and on)
To the sea, to the sea

Till it’s gone forever
Gone forever
Gone forevermore

Goodbye my friends,
Maybe forever
Goodbye my friends,
The stars wait for me
Who knows where we shall meet again
If ever
But time
Keeps flowing like a river (on and on)
To the sea, to the sea

Till it’s gone forever
Gone forever
Gone forevermore 

So we’ve been occupying our time babysitting granddaughter Sydney while her parents enjoy a Bahamian cruise.  She’s been a joy so far.  Only 9 months old but she is easily entertained and sleeps through the night.  The only downside I suppose is I’m watching a lot of Nick Junior on TV.  But hey, it’s a chance to relearn all those life lessons I’ve forgotten (or ignored).

Anyway, as a proud grandpa (aka “Papa John”) indulge me a few photographs of my sweet little girl:

Beating the notorious South Carolina summer heat in her very own redneck swimming pool.

She caught a whiff of Jee Yeun cooking up something Korean and crawled into the kitchen for a closer look.  No doubt she’ll be eating kimchi soon.

Who, me?

Hope all you mom’s out there have a great day. That means you Renee and Lauren!

I surely am missing my mother.

Camping on the Kern River circa 1958.

Today is Parent’s Day in Korea.  If you still have living parents, tell them you love them and give them a big hug.  Sure wish I could.

We took Jee Yeun’s father to the chicken hof this afternoon.  Drank beer and ate chicken Korean style.  Jee Yeun’s mom is visiting family “in the countryside” so she missed out.  Dad seemed happy with his white envelope.  Hell, who wouldn’t be?  It’s the perfect gift.

Jee Yeun’s daughter and boyfriend gave me a very nice box of goodies.  Chock full of all the treats and snacks they witnessed me devouring these past few months.  It was very thoughtful of them and much appreciated.

And that’s about all I’ve got say on the topic.  Cheers!

Today is the first anniversary of my mother’s death.  I’m missing her and of course wishing things could have been different for her.  She loved life, her grandkids and great-grandkids, the holidays, and all the simple joys it is so easy to take for granted.  I’ll always regret not having been a better son for her.  She always asked so little from her family and unfortunately, too often that is all got.  Ah well.  In the end I was with her for what little comfort I could give.  She told me “I love you for coming home to me”, and I will always have that moment to remember.

This is the last photo I took of her, a day or two before she died.  She would have hated it of course,  but it was both a special and sad time and I think she’d be happy to be remembered, regardless of the circumstances.  I love you mom.

This morning Jee Yeun left for Korea.  The house without her seems so empty and quiet.  You kind of fall into a rhythm when you share your life with someone, and her departure has left me feeling particularly out of sorts.

She’s going home to help take care of her sister he recently suffered a massive stroke.  She will also be with her family to celebrate the lunar new year, and that’s a good thing.  Finally, she will be doing all the heavy lifting associated with moving house.  She’s taking an apartment in the same building at Gireum station, just two floors lower down.

I’ll be following in two or three weeks.  I have to finalize matters associated with my parent’s estate before I can leave the country.  It’s a real pain in the ass, but at least I have some powerful motivation to get it done.

Welcome home to the Land of the Morning Calm sweetheart.  I miss you and I love you.

My first Christmas without mom and dad.  She sure did love the holidays.  I have some of her decorations up around the house, but they just can’t capture her spirit.

My father died today.  He spent the better part of his life as an engineer with the Merchant Marine.  It is a maritime tradition that when a member of the engine department passes away he is said to be “finished with engines”.

My father had been in failing health for some time but if pressed to identify the cause of death I’d have to say he died of a broken heart.  Losing mom after 61 years of marriage took both an emotional and physical toll.  I think he survived as long as he did so he could be there to take care of mom.  Without her his life lost meaning and purpose.

He was 83 years old and by any account he lived a long, and often hard, life.  He was nothing if not strong willed.  His passing was inevitable but I was surprised by how quickly he went in the end.  I believe he just decided it was time to go, so he went.  By all accounts it was a peaceful and easy departure.  Perhaps that’s the best any of us can hope for.

His desire was to have his body donated to the medical university.  After jumping through some bureaucratic hoops today we were able to make that happen.  Dad was always generous in his own quiet way and certainly wouldn’t want a big deal made of his parting gift.  And he made it very clear that a big funeral was not for him.  So I hope this simple tribute will suffice to do justice to his memory.

Dad, you were an amazing man and truly one of a kind.  You’ll be missed by all who knew and loved you.

My father was a lover of poetry and some of my earliest memories are of him sitting in his easy chair reading his favorite poems out loud to us kids.  And I distinctly remember him reciting this one on some long ago day:

Under the wide and starry sky
Dig the grave and let me lie.
Glad did I live and gladly die,
And I laid me down with a will.

This be the verse you grave for me;
“Here he lies where he longed to be,
Home is the sailor, home from sea,
And the hunter home from the hill.”  

–“Requiem” Robert Louis Stevenson

I just wanted to update y’all regarding my dad.  He was moved to the hospice ward at the hospital yesterday.  I’m sure you understand the implications of that.

He was hospitalized last week with pneumonia, and he has gotten progressively weaker.  He’s been unable to swallow so he was being fed though a tube in his nose to his stomach.  That’s a short term solution and they wanted to insert a tube directly through his stomach.  In his condition that’s a risky surgery, but necessary given the alternative.  Against my advice, he declined the surgery.

So, the goal of Hospice is to keep the patient comfortable.  I’ve not given up hope that he will regain the ability to swallow and can take nourishment by mouth.  If not, well, he’ll just fade away.

Sorry to be sharing this sad news, but thought you’d want to know.

Happy Mother’s Day to all the mom’s out there in the great wide open.

And speaking as one who is spending his first mother’s day without a living mom, indulge my imparting a little advice.

Sons and daughters, do more than the card and the “I love you”.  Take the time and make the effort to do the little things to make your mother feel special.  She’s easy to please I’d wager and letting her know you care will mean the world to her.

Don’t be like me wishing you had done more when it is too late for anything other than regrets.

Here’s the song my nephew sang after the funeral.  I find it hauntingly beautiful.

Mother don’t worry, I killed the last snake that lived in the creek bed
Mother don’t worry, I’ve got some money I saved for the weekend
Mother remember being so stern with that girl who was with me?
Mother remember the blink of an eye when I breathed through your body?

So may the sunrise bring hope where it once was forgotten
Sons are like birds, flying upward over the mountain

Mother I made it up from the bruise on the floor of this prison
Mother I lost it, all of the fear of the Lord I was given
Mother forget me now that the creek drank the cradle you sang to
Mother forgive me, I sold your car for the shoes that I gave you

So may the sunrise bring hope where it once was forgotten
Sons are like birds, flying always over the mountain