Goodbye 2020

Time to finally send 2020 out the door. I have to say this year was absolutely horrible and November 2020 was the lowest I’ve ever been in my life. I am battling stage 4 Lymphoma while trying to recover strength and control of my lower body after the tumor nearly paralyzed by spinal cord. During a pandemic. Living alone in a red state surrounded by many people who think Covid19 is a hoax.

This nearly broke me. There were times I didn’t know how I’d get through and I have to admit I contemplated suicide in my darkest moments. I didn’t make plans to carry it out but the thought crossed my mind. I would have reached out if those thoughts became pervasive but that is where the mind goes in moments of despair. Mental health is a thing and none of us are exempt from the effects of stress and doubt. I wasn't suicidal but I thought about suicide.

I have since regained hope and I believe there is a real possibility that I can beat cancer and get most of the use of my legs back. My cancer doctor tells me I have 80-85% chance for a complete cure. There is much uncertainty but I might survive 5, 10, 15, or 20 years. Perhaps longer. I can walk and control my body functions but I’m well below my normal strength so I have a long road ahead there as well.

I am normally a very independent person but a situation like this forces one to reach out for help. Many people were instrumental in my recovery to this point. First and foremost is my father James Klusman who dropped everything and drove twelve hours to stay with me and help me recover from the emergency surgery that saved my legs. The rest of my family has been very supportive as well as local friends who have showered me with wonderful food, provided transportation, and even helped scoop out Oscar’s litter box. The medical people who are healing my body are some of the finest I’ve encountered.

I am now through two rounds of chemo including something nicknamed “The Red Devil” that apparently chews up cancer and spits it out. Along with other parts of your body. I’m lucky that I cope with the chemo with very little side effects so far. I don’t take anything for granted but I’m hopeful that the rest of the chemo treatments are similar. I am scheduled for a PET scan next week to determine the progress of the treatments. Hopefully the scan shows the chemo is working to shrink what remains of the tumor.

I cannot thank you all enough for the love and support. I apologize for not responding to all of your messages and comments. I love and appreciate all of you. There are too many of you to name but you know who you are and I never would have made it through without you. Those of you out there suffering your own battles I’m thinking of you as well. Cry when you need to and find comfort where you can.

May 2021 be the year we get back to normal again.

Paul Klusman

PS Please do not send gifts or flowers. Instead donate to your favorite charity.

Poetry. Inspired by Emily Dickenson.

Sunday Coffee Shop
By Paul Klusman

Some keep the Sabbath going to church

I keep it with company

Sitting in a shop there on a perch

Sipping coffee and tea.

Patrons arrive through the front door

Friends and family and lovers

Seeking refuge from the day

Amongst the fellow travelers.

I swirl the tea then I pour

Into a cup waiting gratefully

What happy elixir what warm decor

What embrace tenderly.

Some keep the Sabbath for heaven when they die

And a hope that God is near

I soak in the morning as the hours pass by

There is already heaven here.

Poetry. About food.

Holiday Leftovers

By Paul Klusman

The day after is always blue

Festivities now are spent

The gathering we savored yesterday

Makes way to heart’s lament.

But the friendship and the glee

The warmth and the laughter

Are baked yet into treasure

Brought home for hereafter.

Suspended in a plastic bag

To hold the bounty within

Cradled in paper plates

Wrapped in sheets of tin.

Will find it’s way into corners

Of my fridge in tiny spaces

Above the milk and beside the jam

Held there in tight embraces.

Then later the joy of eating

The sweet and savory

Standing alone in my kitchen

What better company?

Oh prepared by loving hands

Oh joy like a silent tear

Oh lovely holiday leftovers

I’ll see you again next year.

Poetry. Inspired by morning sun hitting the clouds outside my window.

Gaps in the Clouds

By Paul Klusman

This morning I rose early
My sleep it was in vain

To pass through dark and leave no mark

Through the narrow aisles of pain.

I settled in a chair while

The rest of the world was down

Save the horn of a train calling plain

From the other side of town.

Gazing out the window

To the windy void of nigh

No shape no hue nor little clue

Of life could reach my eye.

Then upon the distant horizon

Came slow a creeping glow

Night gave way to the promise of day

And the wind it ceased to blow.

Past the barren limbs of trees

The clouds hung still in the air

They passed the night into morning light

With colors pale and fair.

The sun brushed over the tops

Of the thin cotton canopy

Gapped and slivered it then delivered

Some hope now there to see.

A warmth it filled my heart

Beams of light entered the room

What gift of beauty what honored duty

The sun chased away the doom.

If ever you shall find you

In solitude or despair

Borrow this light against the night

And make your soul repair.

Borrow this light in plenty

Or when the day is gray

Keep it held in a locket in your hip pocket

And spirit the gloom away.

Poetry. Memories of day excursions in my Uncle's camper with two families packed in and headed down the road on I-94 in North Dakota.

Day Trip I-94

By Paul Klusman

Just a few miles out west of town

Out beyond the city limits

A stretch of pavement flat and true

Deep in my memory elicits.

A journey towards distant horizons

To points then unknown

Along a stretch of highway

In a lovely motor home.

We move with steady motion

Past endless stretch of prairie

With waving tall grass sentinels

To witness our windswept journey.

The motor pulls and the tires hum

As we cleave through the morning realm

My cousin is there beside me

Uncle Don is Captain at the helm.

Aunts and Uncles and Mom and Dad

And the kids together we roam

We’re out and back in a single day

By evening we are home.

Life is movement through space and time

We are travelers on an endless stage

I savor the feel, the sight, and the sound

As these words move onto the page.

Poetry. About dance.

This was inspired by a friend of mine who longs for our local dance community during the time of Covid19 lockdown. She is a lovely animated dancer and I've shared many fun songs with her on the dance floor.

Dancing as Days Shall Be
By Paul Klusman

So long as days shall be
And on this earth we dwell
Let us meet where music plays
To cause our soul to swell.

As hand in hand and beat by beat
We move upon the floor
Time suspends within a song
To make our soul restore.

I’ll meet you there and if ever I
Have legs that one day fail me
Bear no sorrow but remember joy
For my soul you lifted sweetly.

Poetry. This is a response to the classic poem "To the Virgins, To Make Much of Time" by Robert Herrick

To the Old, to Gather in Time

By Paul Klusman

When shadows gather late of day,

As Time grows ever longer

Let us gather come what may

Even as cold grows stronger.

To bask in former glory, to run

Through memories not yet fading

Not bitter sorrows but victories won

Are tales best for trading.

For what is there but quench our thirst

Though youth has long departed

We drink the last as if the first

From the same cup where we started.

So rest ye easy and rest ye fine

And let us gather, merry

For having walked the narrow line

Together now we tarry.