Volume 165.5, October 27^th, 2006

Special Supplement Issue of
The Unreligious, Non-Family-Oriented Literary and Art Magazine
Internet ISSN 1555-1555

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you can also download the ebook/PDF file of this special issue.

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Coping With Her Leaving Janet Kuypers, 09/01/06 #1 I’ve had to be the calm one all this time my brother told my husband he was proud of how strong I was well, I can’t be sobbing while telling the news when talking to people now we’d have to remind ourselves at that least she’s not in pain now we all knew her death was coming we just didn’t know when and now I’ve just made myself numb I mean, what other choice did I have? I go through waves now, usually in public where the tears well up and I want to let go but I say to myself you can’t do that not here not now and I stifle my tears and I stifle my pain and this is what I do now and there’s nothing else I can do I have to hold it in because I don’t want to let go

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Letting Time Tick By Janet Kuypers, 09/01/06 #2 we left for O’hare airport early went through my automatic check-in sent my luggage off to be X-rayed now, I had to get an earlier flight to see my father because my mother died and although I paid coach they gave me first class so I could grieve with my family lucky me, first class now I can drink through my depression for free so after I dropped off my luggage I walked past the curling security line for no-line first class security so now I’m sitting here at gate K8 for almost two hours waiting for time to tick by lucky me letting time tick by living

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“The Power To Tell Her”/ “The Power To See Her” Janet Kuypers, 09/01/06 #3 “The Power To Tell Her” when Dave died a man I had dated for a year and a half I was stuck on the other side of the country and couldn’t go to his services couldn’t see him laying in his coffin so that I could really say good bye and knowing my mother was dying I had already cried so much that I almost shut down when I heard that she died my father called to tell me and he couldn’t even talk so I heard the news over the phone from a friend of his it was my job to tell my brothers and sisters but I couldn’t get through to one sister who was closest to mom my oldest sister offered to tell her, to have her paged, to break the news to her and I thought, wait, dad told me to do this I should be doing this but then I thought I don’t think I have to power to tell her I don’t think I could be prepared for her falling apart at work I just didn’t know if I could do that to her so, I said, okay, you can tell her I heard from them after the fact that my older sister was crying to the switchboard operator before she could reach my sister that probably expedited getting them connected so now we’re all flying across the country to have another impromptu family reunion to help my father cope with being a widower ### “The Power To See Her” my mother is being cremated she said she didn’t want a service even though her grieving family might need one but I just talked to my sisters they said they got through to dad and he’s waiting for us at his home across the country well, of course we’d be there but my sister told me they’re waiting with my mother’s body so we can see her before cremation because, you know, we might want to see her and I didn’t want to tell my one sister because I couldn’t be prepared for the crying but but I never thought about seeing my mother dead before she was cremated but I will cry now the ocean levels will rise my tears will start hurricanes here in south west Florida where my mother lies waiting for us ### I was so angry that I never saw Dave in his coffin because I needed some kind of closure and my sisters tell me “you don’t have to see her if you don’t want that’s your decision” and and while my mother was still alive and I still had my flight to see her my father said I’d be shocked when I saw her that she’s so thin so so a part of me doesn’t know if I can see my mother dead but I think of the closure I’ve needed for years after Dave’s death ... it has been over eight years now so so a part of me doesn’t know how I couldn’t see my mother one more time ### so I have to see her and we tried to decide what she should wear for the viewing which is what she will wear when she is burned and I struggle with this because I could keep the dress we chose and a memento of my mother but we chose the dress she wore to my wedding that her body will spend its last moments on earth in the dress she wore to my wedding everyone told her how beautiful she looked in that dress at my wedding I have a photo framed from my wedding of dad kissing mom in that dress that she looked so lovely in in a photo where her beauty is captured forever so so it seems beautiful it seems painfully beautiful that she wears the dress she wore to my wedding before she leaves us forever so it seems fitting that, like at my wedding she wears the dress she looked so eternally beautiful in

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Soaring So High Janet Kuypers, 09/01/06 #4 I’m in a first class airplane seat flying to see my family now the seats are roomier and embroidered on the fake leather on the seat in front of me, it reads FASTEN SEAT BELTS WHILE SEATED and I got a full meal while on the flight and the flight attendants were very attentive I’m going to Florida now to see my family there because my mother just died there only about twenty seven hours ago and I’m sitting here in first class with these embroidered seats with the full courses and friendly service reminding me of when we first went to Florida thirty years ago I was a little kid so the seats were big and back in the day they always fed you meals in the sky and the stewardesses were that much more attentative and now I remember my first trip to Florida where at Disney World I was afraid to go into the dark tunnel for “It’s a Small World” and I was afraid to go into the dark room for the “Space Tunnel” roller coaster ride so they sat me with dad so I’d be too afraid to cry and I remember being so little on our first trip to Florida that I saw mom and dad watching Connors and McEnroe play tennis on tv and I thought Connors was President Carter I remember flying to Vegas with my parents and my sister when mom told me to sit by dad so, like my construction worker father I could marvel at all of the concrete at Hoover Dam Below once we took a small flight across Florida to the town my parents now live in I don’t know, a DC 10, a DC 3 and we actually shared a long bench for our seats for our flight to where they’d one day call home I’m flying in an airplane now and it makes me think of flying with my parents and now I’m flying to Florida to meet my sisters, to see my father because my mother has passed so now I sit in this big airplane seat look out the window at the clouds below it’s a wondrous thing getting so far soaring so high but right now, all I’m filled with are memories of flights with my mother when we were soaring so high

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The Good Ones Janet Kuypers, 09/02/06 #3 I’m back in Florida now, near my mother’s house where everyone on these little streets knows everyone’s name and everyone likes my mom because she’s such a sweet woman and every time I walk down the streets here now it seems that over half of the people I run into have to stop to tell me they are sorry about my mom and you get used to hearing that I mean, not that it doesn’t mean anything or anything but everyone is sorry she’s gone but one woman hugged me and said “they always take the good ones” and that’s when I started to react that’s when I was just about ready to cry because yes, they do always take the good ones and it made me that much more sad and it made me that much more angry to know the injustice of it all and to know there was nothing I could do she didn’t smoke she took care of her husband and her five children she was so sweet and tried to make everyone as content as they could possibly be she followed her husband’s lead in doing what he wanted and kept track of finances so that she could afford a good education for her children her husband seemed violent in his children’s eyes he drank too much and she stood by his side and kept things together and she fought with breast cancer then had cervical cancer and she fought those cancer attacks and won you’d think she had gone through enough for crimes she didn’t commit but, you know, cancer doesn’t fight fair so later cancer struck back by not attacking an organ but all of her blood instead I know she’s a strong woman but how could any one woman fight every cell coarsing through her body so yeah, it’s unfair it’s completely wrong I want to kill someone for doing this to her someone has to be held accountable because it makes no sense that she has to fight a battle she can’t win and she’s one of the good ones and she really shouldn’t have been taken I hate them for taking her and I hate them for leaving us to grieve this way I don’t care who you are but I hate you

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It Must Have Been On Sale Janet Kuypers, 09/03/06 #2 it’s only me and my husband in our house and I go to Sam’s to purchase twenty packs of paper towels you know, because buying in bulk is supposed to be a better deal so I’ll have the bottom of the kitchen pantry lined with rolls and rolls of paper towels you know, I might have a lot to clean up in the next year have to be prepared, I guess and I’m sure I get that from my mother my sister and I laughed when we were in the house alone once and we had a craving for ice cream so we said, hey, we should look in the deep freeze they have this huge freezer in the basement and we go there and there are tons of two gallon containers of pistachio spumoni I guess my mother likes pistachio spumoni because there’s a ton of it it must have been on sale so we shrug our shoulders and laugh and try pistachio spumoni for probably the only time in our lives so now that mom has passed and we have to go through her house to try to clean things up for dad to organize things, to throw things away we find on one of the shelves in one of the pantries spray can after spray can of Easy On Heavy Duty Speed Starch (like my 75 year-old mother ever needed to speed starch fifty loads of dress clothes for dad) so I take a starch can back with me, my sister takes a starch can back with her so at least if I have tons of shampoo and vats of laundry detergent and Oxy Clean tubs to clean the house, at least I can be well-pressed for anything

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Knelt and Cried Janet Kuypers, 09/03/06 #3 I was in the minivan or whatever the Hell you call dad’s new car, driven only 930 miles dad driving, sister in the front seat me and brother in the back seats my husband behind me in the far back seat and I waited at my father’s house for a while so we could go to my mother’s services well, they weren’t services she didn’t want that but dad thought the kids would want to see my mother before she was cremated so there we were, the family in ties in black dresses sitting and waiting in our little hearse to drive us to Fuller Funeral Home for our final visit we were in the car and my husband in the far back seat and he knew I was sad he sensed I was crying while the hearse took us to the funeral parlour and he reached his hand forward to take my hand to touch my shoulder, to something and I couldn’t see his face but his hand was a grave consolation as our hearse rolled on to our chance to say farewell I was trying not to cry in the ride in the hearse to the funeral parlour I’ve been a good Marine I’ve been trained to not cry but I couldn’t help the tears at that point and I did my best to stifle them so no one would consider my sniffling and no one would question my faltering emotions we had to take two separate cars and we arrived and we were greeted when we entered and we asked where to go and they pointed the way to lead us in the right direction and I think we were all afraid to go into that room to see her well, I can’t speak for anyone else I know I was afraid afraid of what I’d see afraid of afraid of I don’t know what afraid of seeing how she looked afraid of the finality of it all just afraid so, I’m the littlest one of course I let everyone else go in before me they’re supposed to want to see her more that’s what I hear and we walked in and there were many seats and you could see her face, asleep, peeking out of the coffin in the distance and we all just instinctively sat down dad finally walked to her and knelt before her coffin we watched him watch her pray for her talk to her I don’t know what he was communicating with her he was with her and we all wanted that with her one more time one sister went next, knelt cried then a brother then another brother and I watched a procession of family members all older than me all apparently more important than me all with more history with her than me and and my husband asked if I wanted him to go with me when I walked up to see my mother and I thought, no, I need to do this on my own I finally walked up to her knelt before her and looked at her in the dress she wore to my wedding and thought she looked so beautiful she looked so peaceful she looked like she was sleeping and I hadn’t seen her that peaceful in a long time every time I came to visit her since the disease started she always looked tired when she was awake otherwise she was asleep and looked fitful in her rest I looked at her eyebrows they were penciled in very nicely and I looked down at her nails and they were long, every nicely painted and the earrings we picked for her to wear were so dainty and so lovely and the dress was so nice and she looked so peaceful and that’s all I could keep thinking that she looked so well rested that she was just taking a good nap and she would be just fine she had to be ### I looked at my mother one last time these were my final words to her face this would be the last time I saw her make it good, girl you’re the one with the words tell her what you mean in fifty words or less that’s how these services go, don’t they? and I told her that I loved her and I told her that I hope that I carry on any of her kindness because that’s they way she’ll live on because the world is filled with people who aren’t nice who aren’t kind and losing her makes the world a worse place people have told me that I am kind that I am nice and I only hope I can do you justice that I can somehow make this world a better place like you did I only hope that I can do the world justice because the world needs you now, mom and you had to leave us so what do we do now before I left her that first time I started to run my hands along my chest into a cross because I wanted all of the spirits to know that you are there and that you are to be welcomed because you are blessed even if it’s only from the likes of me

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We’re Not Making Any More Appointments Janet Kuypers, 09/04/06 #2 “I never thought that your mom was really sick, it never occurred to me that your mother was dying. I saw her getting more and more sick, but I didn’t think that meant anything... You dad was taking your mom to the doctor and he wanted someone to go with him, she needed help walking, getting to the office, so my wife went with them. They went to the doctor, and they checked on your mother, and they said, “We’re not making any more appointments.” And... And that’s when it hit me, even the doctors knew she was near the end.”

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Where the Blackberries Came From Janet Kuypers, 09/04/06 #3 At the parent’s house they had blackberries left over they’re my favorite fruit, you know and when they reminded me there were still blackberries in the refrigerator I found them and snarfed maybe over half of them down and then I realized that carton of blackberries that label I saw and read was from the blackberries my mom was adding to her champagne she added them to her champagne and the champagne wasn’t champagne she liked Cooks, or something like that so I hear she ate the blackberries out of her glass so her blackberries were soaked in cheap champagne but she was eating that’s what I hear but I was snarfing blackberries from the carton of blackberries my mother was eating from the night before she died and I stared at the label on that carton wondering if she looked at that carton or if dad pulled the blackberries out for my mother’s champagne for her to eat but that was irrelevant because she ate from these and I was eating from them like they were my favorite fruit and nothing else in the world mattered

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Even Though I Didn’t See It Janet Kuypers, 09/04/06 #4 I’ve been walking around here in this mobile home park and I was told that for days the flag at the base of the park here was at half mast for my mother’s death of course, once they told me the flag was back up I thought the flag should only be lowered like that for someone in the military or some high-ranking government official but but at least they did that for my mother even though it was only for days and even though I didn’t see it

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Clouds Over Blue Sky’s Janet Kuypers, 09/04/06 #5 I’ve been at my mother’s home for a few days now and I’ve noticed that even at different time times of year I’ve been in this hurricane-prone town in the summer, the fall, the winter, the spring but I’ve noticed that although it may be cloudy for a day or two the sky is sunny that the skies are always blue where my mother lives But I’ve been here now to my mother’s home to put her life in order after her death and I’ve noticed that now, at Blue Sky’s Mobile Home Estates the sky has always been cloudy we’d look and occasionally find minute patches of blue among the dark gray clouds but the sky has been cloudy gray it can’t help it

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It Hurts in the Bones Janet Kuypers, 09/05/06 #2 “I didn’t realize how much pain she was in she got out of the house one day and I did gardening her for, she told me what weeds needed to be pulled as she sat in the chair in front of the house she’d try to pull a weed up if it was right by her chair but she did that sparingly and when I saw her, I’d say, mom, tell me what to do and I’ll do it she needed to go inside again after a short while and I think that was the most movement she did for the rest of her life I’d try to get her out of the house you know, just to walk maybe to the next house and back and she’d always say no and she looked like her neck hurt, her back hurt so I’d ask if if I could rub her neck or back and she’d say no, then she’d say that wouldn’t help and then she’d say it hurts down in the bones and we read this is one of the stages of this disease and I don’t know what it feels like to hurt in your bones something deeper than deep muscle pain I I can’t imagine it I can’t imagine what it feels like I think my mom wouldn’t let on about how much pain she was in When the doctors told mom she had six months to a year with this disease my sister said to mom, your father (our grandfather) had cancer and the doctors said he had six months to live. how long did he live? and mom replied, six years. so she tried to tell her that we Bakutis are stong folk and she can be okay if she fights but I think mom was in so much pain that she made a decision tight then and there that she didn’t want that pain deep down in her bones any more and decided to let her enemy win. we keep saying to people that it’s better that she’s not suffering any more emotionally, for us, we wish she was here but we don’t want her to feel that pain anymore and we keep telling everyone that this is for the best.”

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Wanting to Touch a Corpse Janet Kuypers, 09/05/06 #3 I’m the youngest child in the family and I wasn’t as close to mom as the other daughters so after dad called to tell me mom died and I told the rest of my siblings my older two sisters rescheduled their flight so they could see dad that night I had already rescheduled my plane ticket for the next morning first hoping I’d be there in time to see mom before she died so I wasn’t going to pay a ton to change my ticket again so I went to dad the next day and mom didn’t want any services she didn’t want anyone to see her dead like that especially if she was getting more and more sick before she died so we held no public services for mom but we held a small service for only the family it was hard for me to agree that for this service, and for her cremation she should wear the dress she wore to my wedding and the remains of that dress would be mingled with her ashes forever but I agreed that this could be a way to connect us we entered the room here her body lay all stopped at the other end of the room all I think too afraid to make the first steps to see her laying in a coffin and see her for the last time dad finally walked to her and knelt before her cried what am I saying, we all cried I waited for everyone else to see her to have a moment with mom, kneel before her before I went to her on my own and when I knelt before her and tried to think of what my family said, about how thin she looked, how her skin hung before she died but she looked so peaceful there, relaxed free from pain and dressed like and angel for her private farewell she just looked asleep, like I had often seen her in her final months, but this time was was no longer sleeping to avoid the pain, she found another way out unlike the many times I had seen her sleeping when sick she looked free of pain, free of the battle, at peace and I didn’t want to stop looking at her when she knew she was dying, I wrote her a letter telling her that I just wanted to be able to put my arms around her and hold her for a very long time to show her that I loved her, and that she meant that much to me and it was like a part of me was unable to believe she was dead and I wanted to touch her hand, touch her cheek just make some sort of contact with her once more but but I knew I wouldn’t be able to cope with feeling her cold dead skin and my family would be shocked and mortified if I touched my mother, I knew I couldn’t do it I saw the skin on her arms, the fingernails they painted so she would look pretty for us, to ease our burden when seeing our mother for the last time and knew it wasn’t the skin of my living mother I had to let her go, even if I couldn’t help but keep crying

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More Painful to Experience Janet Kuypers, 09/06/06 #1 people will think it will get easier you know, time heals all wounds or some nonsense like that I don’t know, maybe you’ll cry less but I think the pain is still there and you’ll never be able to shake it but it’s been eight years since the last time I encountered and unjust death like this and you’re right, I cry less now from that first death but it’s still extremely wrong that it happened and it’s still extremely painful no matter how I appear to react now I never saw the first death in his coffin but this time I saw the death, the coffin and I’m trying to figure out which is more painful to experience it doesn’t matter if it’s eight years ago or now

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Harder To Burn Janet Kuypers, 09/06/06 #2 you know, you hear of goth teenagers liking the idea of posters of caskets or you see come Halloween props of caskets at trick stores and tacky novelty shops or Hell, my husband even saved a casket-shaped “Black Death” vodka bottle case it’s funny, caskets imagine Son of Svengouli coming out of a casket to introduce another B horror movie (or was it Elvira that came out of a casket?) and hey, didn’t one of those tacky tv shows I don’t know, The Munsters, I’m not sure didn’t a show like that have someone who was a vampire that slept in a coffin? ah, the humor of a carton for carrying a dead body right now, all I can think of is the cardboard-based casket we chose for viewing my mother before she was cremated yes, there was a wood finish possibly a veneer but you don’t spend for a quality casket for a cremation, I mean, a better wood is harder to burn so settle for cardboard ah, think of the novelty to caskets when you’re forced to deal with them so concretely, so practically, so literally think of the novelty

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Where Else Would I Be Janet Kuypers, 09/08/06 #1 mom was in her second round of chemo and the hospital was 55 miles away so I couldn’t visit daily, only weekly so I’d call every day to see how she was doing and one day I called in the afternoon and she answered, in a panicked voice it sounded like she was crying, and she said to me in a rushed tone, “Call back in an hour” I said okay, and she hung up the phone my husband was home from work early so he saw me in a panic from the call we even drew a bath for me to try to calm me down and I told him what she said, what she sounded like and he tried to think of every possibility of why she sounded that way: maybe she heard that her sister, my Aunt Sally died, maybe she maybe she got bad new about her health but he tried to prepare me for whatever mom was going to say when I called her back I kept checking the clock and after almost exactly an hour, I called mom sounded fine, and before she explained anything to me, she said, “I’m glad you called me back” of course I’d call back — what else could I do? and I responded in shock, why wouldn’t I call her back? I wanted to know what the problem was and she told me she had a bad reaction to the medication they just gave her and her teeth were chattering and she couldn’t speak so the nurses were coming to give her something for the side effects so she was fine and I had nothing to worry about ### mom was doing well for having only so many months to live we had high hopes for her and thought she could beat the odds, doctors said two to six months, but maybe up to a year and she was almost in remission from the first round if chemo so we were sure she could survive for over a year if she wanted to and so I planned a trip to see my parents at their home in Florida my oldest sister planned to visit one month later we had all these great plans but dad called, less than a week before I was flying to see them said mom’s not doing well I should change my flight, come earlier lucky me, hurricane Ernesto was coming, I mean, it is hurricane season so I scheduled my flight for the first day the airlines would let me my mom died while that hurricane was coming through when violence was supposed to hit our shores, our home, bring destruction but the hurricane didn’t touch shore, so we were safe well, even though my mom died they were as safe as they could be and all of the brothers and sisters rushed to my mom and dad’s home, too say good bye to mom to be there for dad and all of the neighbors kept seeing us there, giving condolences and most of them said to us, it’s good that you could be here and our response is always, where else would we be I stayed longer to help my dad function without mom and still, people see me and say it’s good that you could stay here and my response is always, where else would I be

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Making the Bed Janet Kuypers, 09/08/06 #2 so I’m staying in the house with dad now for maybe two weeks, to make sure he’s okay to make sure he’s not alone the first eighteen days after mom died and I remember, because the bed in the kid’s room, when the door was open, faced the entranceway to their house so anyone coming over would see if our bed was made or not so it’s a rule at this house, make you bed before you leave your room every morning you know, so the house doesn’t look so messy so it’s my second day here with dad alone and I make my bed, and I’m sure he doesn’t really care, but it’s something you really should do here even if mom isn’t around to tell me anymore and I remembered this morning that mom would always make their bed after dad left in the morning she had a system down for making their king sized bed but as they got older, dad had trouble sleeping on his back all night so at a local rummage sale, mom bought one of those twin-sized hospital beds where you can control the inclination of your back for a restful night’s sleep you know, so dad could sleep sitting up a bit more, and mom could still rest on the twin-sized bed right next to him so, when dad was walking though the house today I asked him, I know mom usually does this, but would you want your bed made? and he walked into his bedroom with me, showed how he has an egg carton mattress under his sheets on his hospital bed, and said that the fitted sheets often pull out from the top of the bed, you know, probably because the bed is always inclined when he sleeps so we lifted both fitted sheet corners on his bed and pulled the egg carton pad up as high as we could then put the sheet back on then dad said, you don’t have to do much more, if you want to pull the sheets and blankets up, that’s your call and he walked out of his bedroom and I started to pull the sheets up on his side of the bed, noticed that they tugged on mom’s twin bed at his bed side then I pulled the blanket up and had to walk around to mom’s side of the bed the left side, the same way I sleep with my husband to pull the blankets up evenly, to fix her two pillows resting on her side of the bed and and I know he can’t be alone and I know he’d never want to remove mom’s twin bed, or even remove mom’s pillows from her side of the bed but but it’s just hard to see so many reminders of mom’s existence in places you wouldn’t expect to look excuse me, I have to dry my tears now

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Cardboard Bending At WalMart Janet Kuypers, 09/08/06 #3 I’m with my dad now, for a few weeks helping him adjust to mom passing he’s learned how to make the coffee he’s learned how to use the dishwasher he says he’s learned how to wash clothes though I haven’t seen him wash clothes yet and he’s started going to WalMart now because they have a good price on the cans of chicken broth he drinks every night instead of having another Grand Suzette liquor drink before he goes to bed okay, sometimes he has two cans of soup before he goes to bed you see, he opens the can of soup and pours half of it into an insulated plastic cup and heats that cup in the microwave for three minutes thirty-three seconds (it’s easier to press 333 for the time) then he takes out the hot soup, and pours the remaining unheated soup into the plastic cup so it’s the correct temperature (don’t ask, this is just how he does it) and we’re used to visiting him and when he wants to have a glass of soup we open a can for him, pour half of it into a glass, heat it, add the cold soup and bring him his drink well, he’s learned to go to WalMart now especially because they supply free electric carts for those who don’t want to walk through the labyrinth of aisles in the SuperStore well, he’s learned to go to WalMart now because they have the cheapest prices for cans of soup ### I remember going to WalMart with mom for soup for dad and she’d find the lowest price and the stock boys would leave opened boxes for 18 packs or 24 packs of soup en masse and we’d but one opened cardboard box, maybe two so that dad wouldn’t have to worry about running of of his soup ### So were were at WalMart dad in his slow-moving little electric cart me slowing down my pace to stay with him it was a SuperStore, so I got tomatoes and Mike’s Hard Lemonade and Saltines for dad there and we passed the pasta aisle, and dad hates paste with a passion, but I said that mom used to have flavored packs of pasta that could be be prepared ready-made for a meal so I ran down the aisle to look for what mom always bought they didn’t have it I searched so I had to settle for something close to what she always had ### we got to the soup aisle for dad he picked out one that he remembered drinking I think it was a more expensive soup and then I pulled out the cheapest soup, remembering the label and said I think this is the one you have at home he agreed and there was one opened cardboard box left of his soup of choice like I did in the past with mom, I tried to see if I could lift the box to put the whole box in our cart his electric cart and chair that was so hot because it was outside in the Florida sun but the box started to buckle when I tried to pick it up, and a can or two tipped over I realized then I couldn’t do things like I did before and moved all of his cans one by one into his cart before we could pay and go home

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Flowers on the Tables Janet Kuypers, 09/09/06 #1 “It’s funny, every year me and Janet host the hot dog dinner every Labor Day, and Janet said to me, this is the first year there were no flowers on the tables. Your mother, every year, would take flowers from bushes, red centers, real pretty, and place them in water at all the tables for people when they came to eat. This is the first year there were no flowers on the tables.”

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Wearing Her Jewelry Janet Kuypers, 09/09/06 #2 So I’m here in Florida now with dad, while he settles in to life without mom and I put on jewelry for dinner tonight put on the only ring I wear on my middle right finger now mom’s huge blue topaz she gave me when she decided to stop the leukemia treatment and it made me think of what jewelry I wore to her private services you see, we had to sift through her costume jewelry once I got to Florida to pick and choose through what we wanted I didn’t want her watches (I have too much of a love affair with my Tag Heuer, sorry) and I didn’t want most of her clip on earrings (she never wanted pierced earrings, she hated the idea) but one pair of earring she ordered was pretty, and simple they were a pair of earrings she ordered when she found out she was sick it was what she bought when she felt bad the she was struck with cancer again and the earrings didn’t come in the mail so she was going to reorder them but said to my sister, oh, get the earrings as pierced and keep them for yourself but when they got back to her town her clip on earrings were there waiting for her anyway so these earrings were ones she bought because she felt bad because she was sick and had to face cancer again so I kept those earrings I picked something else to keep a silver chain, with a pendant of mock diamond studs in a heart shape there were two pieces of glass in the center of this heart locking in a few loose mock diamond studs that could move around within the heart and I thought it was uncanny that I owned a silver ring with a silver circle and there were two pieces of glass in the center of this circle locking in a few loose mock diamond studs that could move around within the circle in my ring and so I picked only a select few pieces of my mother’s jewelry to keep and when we were going to my mother’s private services my sister asked me, “are you wearing that heart-shaped necklace of mom’s?” I only showed her the jewelry on my neck and didn’t say a word I know, there are only a few pieces I keep but I wear them like tombstones and I shouldn’t need words to explain that

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Story Telling Janet Kuypers, 09/09/06 #3 Your see, my mom, eleven years ago had breast cancer and the three girls flew to visit her at her home across the country and mom felt bad that shouldn’t make our trip better because she just found out she had cervical cancer too but we couldn’t have come at a better time and she had procedures she had surgeries and she had a radical hysterectomy and then the cancer was gone she was in the clear so for a decade she went to the doctor and they found no cancer in her and all seemed well she had beaten a killer ### when I was almost killed in a car accident and I had head trauma no fractured bones, except my skull they never told me just my family but not me, the patient that I’m expected to have a seizure within six months of my accident I had a grand mal seizure seven months after I was almost killed no one explained to me what was happening and I had to figure it out as I went along ### well, a decade after her bouts with cancer she went back to the doctor, had a fever, felt tired and they said, well, it’s funny, you’ve got all the symptoms and most women who have had as much cancer in their history as you’ve had well, you’re likely to have leukemia ### well, she did ### and when she found out at her home in south west Florida she traveled to University of Chicago Hospital (they’re a good hospital, you know) and she got prepped for chemo was in the hospital shorter than me (damnit, I shouldn’t be so self-centered that way) and had chemo lost her hair (with her new crew cut, as her hair grew back she looked just like her brother, Uncle Pete, from this army photos) and the doctors said she was in remission now, this leukemia is a tricky thing cancer of the blood versus cancer of an organ it was easier when you could just remove an organ and leave it at that but this was cancer in her blood and the cancer crept into her bone marrow and they had to periodically drill into her hip bone for a bone marrow biopsy to see if there was any cancer in her bone marrow fun job, drilling into her hip bone you wonder why there are so many hip replacement surgeries now well, look at how doctors test now a little bone pulled here, a little bone pulled there well anyway, the doctors said she was in remission (happy happy, joy joy) but because this cancer-of-the-blood thing was tricky they’re going to give her another round of chemo just to be on the safe side because you know, if people don’t go through this extra round of chemo the leukemia is more likely to come back so mom took the chemo and she recovered at my sister’s house until she was well enough to go back home and recoup in her own home I visited her in her recoup time just shy of my parent’s fifty sixth wedding anniversary bought the cologne dad would give mom for their anniversary while I was visiting she hoped that when her hair grew back after the chemo it would grow back curly and it was she was so used to having a hairdresser style her hair into a bee hive and she’d have to sleep on her nose to keep her hair style in place until her next hairdresser appointment so her hair was curling now she bought curling hair gel she wore a little white hat (we always could pull off looking good in hats) and curled the ends of her new short hair around her little cap she looked so cute mom would work in the mornings run errands, get groceries and by lunchtime she would be tired so she’d watch her soap operas but who can blame her, she’s still recovering from all the chemo Hell she went through all of her neighbors said, it’s amazing how well she’s doing after all she’s gone through and they were right ### a month after I left from visiting mom started to feel tired, feverish so dad took her to the doctor and they said, Silly us, she wasn’t in remission they wanted to put her in hospice care immediately and she looked at dad, and they both instantly agreed they’re not giving up that easily so back to the University of Chicago hospitals more chemo for mom a different chemical this time so she won’t lose her hair but after she went through the chemo again they found no change in her condition and then they said, “you’ve got two choices: because you’re immune to chemo now you can go for experimental treatments, or you can decide to stop treatment” she said, “I don’t want hospitals anymore” so she made her choice and the doctors said she had two to six months to live maybe as long as a year and I said to her as she was getting platelets at the Hospital, “When your father had cancer, doctors gave him six months to live. How long did he live?” and she said six years so this was something she could beat we Bakutis come from a strong stock we can do anything I know we can ### well, I don’t think she wanted to fight I think the pain in her bones was too strong and I think she was tired of fighting a battle she couldn’t win so she let it take over they said two to six months and she lived just shy of three she struggled through it all not telling us about her pain just taking her medicine, so to speak and hoping everythin g would just kill her and get it over with and and I think emotionally she made the choice despite us ### and now I sit and write this story and my father is sleeping in front of the tv in his lounge chair next to me he says it’s more comfortable there to fall asleep and I’m listening to his breathing while he sleeps and I hear him panting every thirty seconds while he sleeps like he’s having nightmares about it all still and as I tell this story there’s still a panic in the air even while we sleep

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A Little Angel Inside Janet Kuypers, 09/11/06 #3 it seems strange, that on the day the towers fell five years ago where every television station and newspaper is praising our resolve for all of the death that has been forced upon us well, it seems strange that this is the day the death certificates became available from Fuller Funeral Home and this is the day we pick up my mother’s ashes seems eerily strange my sister is holding some ashes to be made into a diamond from mom so they came to us with a small container for her and a larger cardboard box of all of mom and Kristina from Fuller Funeral Home even handed me a small maroon bag tied tightly shut and she whispered to me, “these are your mother’s earrings” I knew the dress we chose for her the dress she wore to my wedding would be burned with her in her cremation but it never occurred to me that the earring would survive and here they are, in a little velour bag for me like how people try to keep something from the fall of the World Trade centers who lived through that horrendous day well, I think, maybe this is what I’ll keep if anyone argue about them I’ll say, I lost her dress from my wedding for the cremation so these earrings are a gift to me now sorry I know, they’re clip-on earrings and they’re not real diamonds but they are three pretty little stones today, tomorrow and forever and they look so dainty and delicate and they’re a good way for me to remember her when we left Fuller Funeral Home today dad carried the paperwork, the death certificates and I carried mom with us in her little containers and I think I held that little red bag like there was a little angel inside and I had to be delicate to make sure nothing happened to it because I was it’s keeper now I’ll treat it well and treasure it always I promise

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Just Let Her Rest Janet Kuypers, 09/11/06 #4 it was heavy heavy the way I felt after I let the news sink in that my mother died my sister told me to take mom’s ashes ashes of her coffin, and ashes of the dress she wore to my wedding the ashes were so heavy so we were at Fuller Funeral Home today and we asked if the ashes were ready they brought mom to us a smaller container, a larger container sealed tightly along with all the necessary paperwork to prove that yes, these are my mother’s ashes this is really it and I carried mom out to the car with my dad so we could bring mom home one more time mom sat in my lap at first, then at my feet for a safer journey she’s resting on my bed right now all tightly wrapped up like she was covered, in a blanket because she used to get cold there are a few polyester/ cotton button-down tops we keep in the hallway closet you know, for additional warmth for mom we kept them in the closet still because the kids visit and I’ve even been wearing one of them because I get cold in the air conditioning in the afternoons here we keep some of these things around like her crocheted blankets because she’d get cold sometimes and maybe I can think she’s resting now on my bed her ashes in plastic like a blanket around her to keep her warm and to keep her together ### I probably sound delirious talking this way but saying these things makes it easier to handle right now I don’t want to think that my mother’s remains are now only ashes in a plastic bag closed with a little white twist-tie in a cardboard box on top of my bed I don’t want to think of it that way really I’d rather think she’s resting now before I bring her back to where she used to live she’s my mom I even just had to put her under the blankets you know, with a little room at the top her her head wherever it may be I even had to put my arms around her like I wanted to do while she was still alive, dying so I even put my arms around her and cried so give her a rest she’s needed it for so long just let her rest

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Nick DiSpoldo, Small Press Review (on “Children, Churches and Daddies,” April 1997) Kuypers is the widely-published poet of particular perspectives and not a little existential rage, but she does not impose her personal or artistic agenda on her magazine. CC+D is a provocative potpourri of news stories, poetry, humor, art and the “dirty underwear” of politics. One piece in this issue is “Crazy,” an interview Kuypers conducted with “Madeline,” a murderess who was found insane, and is confined to West Virginia’s Arronsville Correctional Center. Madeline, whose elevator definitely doesn’t go to the top, killed her boyfriend during sex with an ice pick and a chef’s knife, far surpassing the butchery of Elena Bobbitt. Madeline, herself covered with blood, sat beside her lover’s remains for three days, talking to herself, and that is how the police found her. For effect, Kuypers publishes Madeline’s monologue in different-sized type, and the result is something between a sense of Dali’s surrealism and Kafka-like craziness. Debra Purdy Kong, writer, British Columbia, Canada I like the magazine a lot. I like the spacious lay-out and the different coloured pages and the variety of writer’s styles. Too many literary magazines read as if everyone graduated from the same course. We need to collect more voices like these and send them everywhere. Ed Hamilton, writer #85 (of Children, Churches and Daddies) turned out well. I really enjoyed the humor section, especially the test score answers. And, the cup-holder story is hilarious. I’m not a big fan of poetry - since much of it is so hard to decipher - but I was impressed by the work here, which tends toward the straightforward and unpretentious. As for the fiction, the piece by Anderson is quite perceptive: I liked the way the self-deluding situation of the character is gradually, subtly revealed. (Kuypers’) story is good too: the way it switches narrative perspective via the letter device is a nice touch. Children, Churches and Daddies. It speaks for itself. Write to Scars Publications to submit poetry, prose and artwork to Children, Churches and Daddies literary magazine, or to inquire about having your own chapbook, and maybe a few reviews like these. Jim Maddocks, GLASGOW, via the Internet I’ll be totally honest, of the material in Issue (either 83 or 86 of Children, Churches and Daddies) the only ones I really took to were Kuypers’. TRYING was so simple but most truths are, aren’t they? what is veganism? A vegan (VEE-gun) is someone who does not consume any animal products. While vegetarians avoid flesh foods, vegans don’t consume dairy or egg products, as well as animal products in clothing and other sources. why veganism? This cruelty-free lifestyle provides many benefits, to animals, the environment and to ourselves. The meat and dairy industry abuses billions of animals. Animal agriculture takes an enormous toll on the land. Consumtion of animal products has been linked to heart disease, colon and breast cancer, osteoporosis, diabetes and a host of other conditions. so what is vegan action? We can succeed in shifting agriculture away from factory farming, saving millions, or even billions of chickens, cows, pigs, sheep turkeys and other animals from cruelty. We can free up land to restore to wilderness, pollute less water and air, reduce topsoil reosion, and prevent desertification. We can improve the health and happiness of millions by preventing numerous occurrences od breast and prostate cancer, osteoporosis, and heart attacks, among other major health problems. A vegan, cruelty-free lifestyle may be the most important step a person can take towards creatin a more just and compassionate society. Contact us for membership information, t-shirt sales or donations. vegan action po box 4353, berkeley, ca 94707-0353 510/704-4444 C Ra McGuirt, Editor, The Penny Dreadful Review (on Children, Churches and Daddies) CC&D is obviously a labor of love ... I just have to smile when I go through it. (Janet Kuypers) uses her space and her poets to best effect, and the illos attest to her skill as a graphic artist. I really like (“Writing Your Name”). It’s one of those kind of things where your eye isn’t exactly pulled along, but falls effortlessly down the poem. I liked “knowledge” for its mix of disgust and acceptance. Janet Kuypers does good little movies, by which I mean her stuff provokes moving imagery for me. Color, no dialogue; the voice of the poem is the narrator over the film. Children, Churches and Daddies no longer distributes free contributor’s copies of issues. In order to receive issues of Children, Churches and Daddies, contact Janet Kuypers at the cc&d e-mail addres. Free electronic subscriptions are available via email. All you need to do is email ccandd@scars.tv... and ask to be added to the free cc+d electronic subscription mailing list. And you can still see issues every month at the Children, Churches and Daddies website, located at http://scars.tv Mark Blickley, writer The precursor to the magazine title (Children, Churches and Daddies) is very moving. “Scars” is also an excellent prose poem. I never really thought about scars as being a form of nostalgia. But in the poem it also represents courage and warmth. I look forward to finishing her book. MIT Vegetarian Support Group (VSG) functions: * To show the MIT Food Service that there is a large community of vegetarians at MIT (and other health-conscious people) whom they are alienating with current menus, and to give positive suggestions for change. * To exchange recipes and names of Boston area veg restaurants * To provide a resource to people seeking communal vegetarian cooking * To provide an option for vegetarian freshmen We also have a discussion group for all issues related to vegetarianism, which currently has about 150 members, many of whom are outside the Boston area. The group is focusing more toward outreach and evolving from what it has been in years past. We welcome new members, as well as the opportunity to inform people about the benefits of vegetarianism, to our health, the environment, animal welfare, and a variety of other issues. Gary, Editor, The Road Out of Town (on the Children, Churches and Daddies Web Site) I just checked out the site. It looks great. Dusty Dog Reviews: These poems document a very complicated internal response to the feminine side of social existence. And as the book proceeds the poems become increasingly psychologically complex and, ultimately, fascinating and genuinely rewarding. John Sweet, writer (on chapbook designs) Visuals were awesome. They’ve got a nice enigmatic quality to them. Front cover reminds me of the Roman sculptures of angels from way back when. Loved the staggered tire lettering, too. Way cool. (on “Hope Chest in the Attic”) Some excellent writing in “Hope Chest in the Attic.” I thought “Children, Churches and Daddies” and “The Room of the Rape” were particularly powerful pieces. Dusty Dog Reviews: She opens with a poem of her own devising, which has that wintry atmosphere demonstrated in the movie version of Boris Pasternak’s Doctor Zhivago. The atmosphere of wintry white and cold, gloriously murderous cold, stark raging cold, numbing and brutalizing cold, appears almost as a character who announces to his audience, “Wisdom occurs only after a laboriously magnificent disappointment.” Alas, that our Dusty Dog for mat cannot do justice to Ms. Kuypers’ very personal layering of her poem across the page. Cheryl Townsend, Editor, Impetus (on Children, Churches and Daddies) The new CC&D looks absolutely amazing. It’s a wonderful lay-out, looks really professional - all you need is the glossy pages. Truly impressive AND the calendar, too. Can’t wait to actually start reading all the stuff inside.. Wanted to just say, it looks good so far!!! Fithian Press, Santa Barbara, CA Indeed, there’s a healthy balance here between wit and dark vision, romance and reality, just as there’s a good balance between words and graphics. The work shows brave self-exploration, and serves as a reminder of mortality and the fragile beauty of friendship. Mark Blickley, writer The precursor to the magazine title (Children, Churches and Daddies) is very moving. “Scars” is also an excellent prose poem. I never really thought about scars as being a form of nostalgia. But in the poem it also represents courage and warmth. I look forward to finishing her book. You Have to be Published to be Appreciated. Do you want to be heard? Contact Children, Churches and Daddies about book or chapbook publishing. These reviews can be yours. Scars Publications, attention J. Kuypers. We’re only an e-mail away. Write to us. Brian B. Braddock, Writer (on 1996 Children, Churches and Daddies) I passed on a copy to my brother who is the director of the St. Camillus AIDS programs. We found (Children, Churches and Daddies’) obvious dedication along this line admirable. The Center for Renewable Energy and Sustainable Technology The Solar Energy Research & Education Foundation (SEREF), a non-profit organization based in Washington, D.C., established on Earth Day 1993 the Center for Renewable Energy and Sustainable Technology (CREST) as its central project. CREST’s three principal projects are to provide: * on-site training and education workshops on the sustainable development interconnections of energy, economics and environment; * on-line distance learning/training resources on CREST’s SOLSTICE computer, available from 144 countries through email and the Internet; * on-disc training and educational resources through the use of interactive multimedia applications on CD-ROM computer discs - showcasing current achievements and future opportunities in sustainable energy development. The CREST staff also does “on the road” presentations, demonstrations, and workshops showcasing its activities and available resources. For More Information Please Contact: Deborah Anderson dja@crest.org or (202) 289-0061 Brian B. Braddock, WrBrian B. Braddock, Writer (on 1996 Children, Churches and Daddies) Brian B. Braddock, WrI passed on a copy to my brother who is the director of the St. Camillus AIDS programs. We found (Children, Churches and Daddies’) obvious dedication along this line admirable. Dorrance Publishing Co., Pittsburgh, PA “Hope Chest in the Attic” captures the complexity of human nature and reveals startling yet profound discernments about the travesties that surge through the course of life. This collection of poetry, prose and artwork reflects sensitivity toward feminist issues concerning abuse, sexism and equality. It also probes the emotional torrent that people may experience as a reaction to the delicate topics of death, love and family. “Chain Smoking” depicts the emotional distress that afflicted a friend while he struggled to clarify his sexual ambiguity. Not only does this thought-provoking profile address the plight that homosexuals face in a homophobic society, it also characterizes the essence of friendship. “The room of the rape” is a passionate representation of the suffering rape victims experience. Vivid descriptions, rich symbolism, and candid expressions paint a shocking portrait of victory over the gripping fear that consumes the soul after a painful exploitation. want a review like this? contact scars about getting your own book published. Paul Weinman, Writer (on 1996 Children, Churches and Daddies) Wonderful new direction (Children, Churches and Daddies has) taken - great articles, etc. (especially those on AIDS). Great stories - all sorts of hot info! The magazine Children Churches and Daddies is Copyright © 1993 through 2006 Scars Publications and Design. The rights of the individual pieces remain with the authors. No material may be reprinted without express permission from the author. Okay, nilla wafer. Listen up and listen good. How to save your life. Submit, or I’ll have to kill you. Okay, it’s this simple: send me published or unpublished poetry, prose or art work (do not send originals), along with a bio, to us - then sit around and wait... Pretty soon you’ll hear from the happy people at cc&d that says (a) Your work sucks, or (b) This is fancy crap, and we’re gonna print it. It’s that simple! Okay, butt-munch. Tough guy. This is how to win the editors over. Hope Chest in the Attic is a 200 page, perfect-bound book of 13 years of poetry, prose and art by Janet Kuypers. It’s a really classy thing, if you know what I mean. We also have a few extra sopies of the 1999 book “Rinse and Repeat”, the 2001 book “Survive and Thrive”, the 2001 books “Torture and Triumph” and “(no so) Warm and Fuzzy”,which all have issues of cc&d crammed into one book. And you can have either one of these things at just five bucks a pop if you just contact us and tell us you saw this ad space. It’s an offer you can’t refuse... Carlton Press, New York, NY: HOPE CHEST IN THE ATTIC is a collection of well-fashioned, often elegant poems and short prose that deals in many instances, with the most mysterious and awesome of human experiences: love... Janet Kuypers draws from a vast range of experiences and transforms thoughts into lyrical and succinct verse... Recommended as poetic fare that will titillate the palate in its imagery and imaginative creations. Mark Blickley, writer: The precursor to the magazine title (Children, Churches and Daddies) is very moving. “Scars” is also an excellent prose poem. I never really thought about scars as being a form of nostalgia. But in the poem it also represents courage and warmth. I look forward to finishing the book. You Have to be Published to be Appreciated. Do you want to be heard? Contact Children, Churches and Daddies about book and chapbook publishing. These reviews can be yours. Scars Publications, attention J. Kuypers - you can write for yourself or you can write for an audience. It’s your call... Dorrance Publishing Co., Pittsburgh, PA: “Hope Chest in the Attic” captures the complexity of human nature and reveals startling yet profound discernments about the travesties that surge through the course of life. This collection of poetry, prose and artwork reflects sensitivity toward feminist issues concerning abuse, sexism and equality. It also probes the emotional torrent that people may experience as a reaction to the delicate topics of death, love and family. “Chain Smoking” depicts the emotional distress that afflicted a friend while he struggled to clarify his sexual ambiguity. Not only does this thought-provoking profile address the plight that homosexuals face in a homophobic society, it also characterizes the essence of friendship. “The room of the rape” is a passionate representation of the suffering rape victims experience. Vivid descriptions, rich symbolism, and candid expressions paint a shocking portrait of victory over the gripping fear that consumes the soul after a painful exploitation. Dusty Dog Reviews, CA (on knife): These poems document a very complicated internal response to the feminine side of social existence. And as the book proceeds the poems become increasingly psychologically complex and, ultimately, fascinating and genuinely rewarding. Children, Churches and Daddies. It speaks for itself. Dusty Dog Reviews (on Without You): She open with a poem of her own devising, which has that wintry atmosphere demonstrated in the movie version of Boris Pasternak’s Doctor Zhivago. The atmosphere of wintry white and cold, gloriously murderous cold, stark raging cold, numbing and brutalizing cold, appears almost as a character who announces to his audience, “Wisdom occurs only after a laboriously magnificent disappointment.” Alas, that our Dusty Dog for mat cannot do justice to Ms. Kuypers’ very personal layering of her poem across the page. Children, Churches and Daddies. It speaks for itself. Debra Purdy Kong, writer, British Columbia, Canada (on Children, Churches and Daddies): I like the magazine a lot. I like the spacious lay-out and the different coloured pages and the variety of writer’s styles. Too many literary magazines read as if everyone graduated from the same course. We need to collect more voices like these and send them everywhere. Fithian Press, Santa Barbara, CA: Indeed, there’s a healthy balance here between wit and dark vision, romance and reality, just as there’s a good balance between words and graphics. The work shows brave self-exploration, and serves as a reminder of mortality and the fragile beauty of friendship. Children, Churches and Daddies the unreligious, non-family oriented literary and art magazine Scars Publications and Design ccandd96@scars.tv http://scars.tv Publishers/Designers Of Children, Churches and Daddies magazine cc+d Ezines The Burning mini poem books God Eyes mini poem books The Poetry Wall Calendar The Poetry Box The Poetry Sampler Mom’s Favorite Vase Newsletters Reverberate Music Magazine Down In The Dirt magazine Freedom and Strength Press forum plus assorted chapbooks and books music, poery compact discs live performances of songs and readings Sponsors Of past editions: Poetry Chapbook Contest, Poetry Book Contest Prose Chapbook Contest, Prose Book Contest Poetry Calendar Contest current editions: Editor’s Choice Award (writing and web sites) Collection Volumes Children, Churches and Daddies (founded 1993) has been written and researched by political groups and writers from the United States, Canada, England, India, Italy, Malta, Norway and Turkey. Regular features provide coverage of environmental, political and social issues (via news and philosophy) as well as fiction and poetry, and act as an information and education source. Children, Churches and Daddies is the leading magazine for this combination of information, education and entertainment. Children, Churches and Daddies (ISSN 1068-5154) is published quarterly by Scars Publications and Design, cations and Design. Contact us via e-mail (ccandd96@scars.tv)ian Court, Gurnee, IL 60031-3155 USA; attn: Janet Kuypers. Contact us via snail-mail or e-mail (ccandd96@scars.tv) for subscription rates or prices for annual collection books. To contributors: No racist, sexist or blatantly homophobic material. No originals; if mailed, include SASE & bio. Work sent on disks or through e-mail preferred. Previously published work accepted. Authors always retain rights to their own work. All magazine rights reserved. Reproduction of Children, Churches and Daddies without publisher permission is forbidden. Children, Churches and Daddies copyright Copyright © 1993 through 2006 Scars Publications and Design, Children, Churches and Daddies, Janet Kuypers. All rights remain with the authors of the individual pieces. No material may be reprinted without express permission.