Tag: anniversary

Hearts 1st anniversary + Goodreads!

Today marks the first anniversary of the release of my first poetry chapbook, Hearts (Kelsay Books, 2023). It is available from either of those links or directly from me by emailing jcorey.poet@gmail.com. Bonus: I can sign or inscribe for you, if you wish.

The poems in Hearts center on my mother, mostly in her final years when she was living with heart failure. It is a chapbook, so it is only 21 poems. (Chapbooks are generally under fifty pages and are organized around a central theme or device.) One of the blessings of having the book out in the world is that so many people have told me that my experiences with my mother reminded them of taking care of their own loved one. I appreciate that my poems touch people’s hearts and minds and give them an opportunity to reflect on their own lives.

As many of you know, I returned to my childhood love of writing poetry in my fifties and my education in the craft has come largely through my poetry community, which includes the Grapevine Poets, the Boiler House Poets Collective, and the Binghamton Poetry Project, recently re-named the Binghamton Writers Project. At times, I’ve felt the learning curve has been steep, but I’ve managed to keep learning and growing as a poet.

What I didn’t fully realize before the publication of Hearts was how daunting the whole publicity enterprise is and how little I understood what it would entail. Kelsay provided a helpful packet of information and I initially sent out some queries to get reviews in journals, but no one responded, life intervened, and I dropped it. The thought of entering contests was bewildering. I made some attempts at getting my book into local bookstores but there was a persistent problem with listing at a distributor. I’ve gotten several cold calls from a scammy publicity company, even though I’ve asked to be removed from their call list. I’m grateful to have had a handful of signing and/or reading opportunities locally but I can’t wrap my head around what it would take to organize an actual book tour.

When my first annual royalty payment arrived, I realized that a good percentage of those sales through Kelsay or Amazon were from people that I knew who had ordered from them. I had sold more copies personally than had been ordered online, which was simultaneously a pat on the back and a stark reminder of my responsibility for marketing my book.

While I have (repeatedly) posted about Hearts here at Top of JC’s Mind and cross-posted on Facebook, X/Twitter, and Instagram, I’m pleased to report that, as of today, I am a certified Goodreads author. Many thanks to poet Samantha Terrell, whose review of Hearts on Goodreads led to my claiming an author page there!

Are you on Goodreads? If so, I’d be honored if you would follow me, Joanne Corey, there and follow Samantha Terrell, too. While it’s no longer National Poetry Month, it’s always a great time to support poets and poetry!

19 years ago

About my friend Angie.

(Hearts graphic by Angie Traverse)

Nineteen years ago today, my friend Angie died from lung cancer. She was only 54. She had never smoked or lived in a house with high radon or worked in a place with known carcinogens but, by whatever combination of genetics and living, cancer appeared and was diagnosed when she was fifty.

She was treated by some great doctors locally and in Boston and she fought hard for four years and some months, but passed away on Good Friday, 2005.

There have been a lot of developments in cancer treatment since then, some of which are advertised on television. I often wonder if any of those medications would have helped Angie live longer and better.

For years, I made contributions on March 25 and on Angie’s October birthday to the charitable fund established in her memory but, a few years back, the online page went away. Now, I just remember and write an occasional post. One of my favorite Angie posts is this one, written when I turned 54.

That year, I also wrote a poem about Angie, which was published by Wilderness House Literary Review:

Fifty-four

We were the October Babes,
You from 1950,
Me from 1960.

On your fifty-fourth birthday,
You managed coffee ice cream with hot fudge
Despite the metastases in your neck.

On my fifty-fourth birthday,
I raise a solo toast with your favorite Coke-with-a-lemon-wedge
To the October Babes being fifty-four together.
*****

This October, God willing, I will turn 64.

I wish Angie were still here, as an about-to-be 74-year-old grandma, mom, artist, and dear friend. The world could use her compassion, creativity, and spirit right now.

Concert (and American) Reflections

Yesterday, the Madrigal Choir of Binghamton presented the first concert of our 45th anniversary season, “American Reflections.”

Our artistic director, Bruce Borton, chose the program to commemorate a number of anniversaries. We sang a set of pieces by William Billings in commemoration of the 250th anniversary of the Boston Tea Party; Billings was a Boston resident at the time and two of the pieces we sang directly referenced the revolutionary period. Special guest soprano Christina Taylor sang four settings of Walt Whitman poems by Ned Rorem, in honor of Rorem’s centennial. We also sang Randall Thompson’s “The Testament of Freedom,” a setting of Thomas Jefferson texts composed in 1943 for the University of Virginia’s glee club commemorating the bicentennial of their founder Jefferson’s birth. We rounded out our all-American program with pieces from Aaron Copland’s opera, The Tender Land.

I’m pleased to say that the concert went well and was enthusiastically received by our audience. We owe our thanks to Theresa Lee-Whiting, who relinquished her role as singer and president of Madrigal Choir to serve as guest conductor for this concert after Dr. Borton needed to take medical leave. We were grateful that Dr. Borton was feeling well enough to attend the concert and hope that he was proud of the work we had done.

I admit that rehearsing and singing this program had its challenges from a historical perspective. For example, in “Stomp Your Foot” from The Tender Land, the text is very explicit about the devaluing of the work of “ladies” versus men. The story is set in the farmlands of the 1930s Depression era, so it is accurate for the times, if a bit galling to sing these days.

The more problematic text for me was Jefferson’s words in “The Testament of Freedom.” The bulk of the text Thompson chose to set is from the “Declaration of the Causes and Necessity of Taking Up Arms.” There are a number of references to bondage or slavery as a consequence of the colonists not taking up arms against the British. For example, “We cannot endure the infamy and guilt of resigning succeeding generations to that wretchedness which inevitably awaits them if we basely entail hereditary bondage upon them.” It’s difficult to sing the text with the knowledge that Jefferson was holding hundreds of men, women, and children in “hereditary bondage” as he wrote these words. He also writes that the colonists must take up arms “for the protection of our property, acquired solely by the honest industry of our forefathers and ourselves,” as though the work of those he enslaved was not also adding to his wealth, although he would have considered those people part of his property. I wonder if Thompson would have chosen the passages to set differently if more modern scholarship on the colonial and Revolutionary War times had been available to him in the 1940s.

Given that he was composing this work during World War II, the final movement, using text from a letter Jefferson wrote to John Adams in 1821, is poignant. “And even should the cloud of barbarism and despotism again obscure the science and liberties of Europe, this country remains to preserve and restore light and liberty to them…” Some of the young men premiering this work would have been about to enter the armed forces to fight in Europe or the Pacific theater. Both my and my spouse’s fathers were in the service during World War II eighty years ago. It was sobering for me to sing these words at a time when democracy is again assailed by authoritarian and fascist influences in Europe and here in the United States.

The fourth movement begins with these words from Jefferson to Adams, “I shall not die without a hope that light and liberty are on steady advance…” On July 4, 1826, both former presidents died on the 50th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence they both signed.

May light and liberty – and music – continue to advance.

reflections on ten years of blogging

As I promised in this post announcing the creation of joannecorey.com, here are some reflections on ten years of blogging here as Top of JC’s Mind – a little later than planned, but what else is new?

Ten-ish years ago, I was just starting to write poetry as a serious pursuit and writing a lot of commentary on fracking and related topics, which I sometimes cross-posted to Facebook. I also posted on Facebook articles and comments on a wide range of current issues. Several friends suggested that I start a blog and, as preserved for posterity in my first post, I fell into it on September 13, 2013.

Of course, as in so many other things I’ve chosen or been compelled to do, I didn’t really know what I was doing. [Embarking on projects for which I do not have sufficient training/background is somewhat of a life theme with me. I’m forever grateful to Smith College for grounding me in the liberal arts and schooling me in how to think critically and creatively, so that I’ve been able to branch out into different activities without making a total hash of it.] I had planned for Top of JC’s Mind to be an eclectic blog, hence the tagline “eclectic like me.”

While I have found a number of other blogs that deal with anything/everything, it’s usually recommended for blogs to have a theme, like food or music or travel. It’s also recommended to have a set publication schedule, every Monday and Thursday, for example. It’s strongly encouraged to incorporate images into all your posts.

So, I flew in the face of all that advice, not because it isn’t good advice, but because it didn’t work for me. Sticking to one topic is much too confining. My personal schedule, if you can even apply that term, has always been unpredictable and became more so as I dealt with multi-generational caregiving. My nod to regular posting has been to often, though not always, participate in the series from Linda G. Hill’s Life in progress blog, One-Liner Wednesdays and Stream of Consciousness Saturday. I’ve also participated in her initiative, Just Jot it January, in which we are challenged to post every day for the month. My One-Liner Wednesday and Stream of Consciousness Saturday posts are accessible through entries in the main menu.

I did initiate a series of my own, JC’s Confessions, loosely modeled after a recurring segment in the early years of The Late Show with Stephen Colbert in which Stephen “confessed” to things that, while not really sins, he felt badly about. Of course, Stephen is humorous and I am not. A link to JC’s Confessions is also in my main menu.

I also started a series How Does JC’s Mind Work? but it only has two entries so far. It’s inspired by the slow-dawning realization that my mind works in some atypical ways, as an INFJ who is also an HSP. I’ve only recently started to learn more about these categorizations and it’s helped to explain a lot of things that were puzzling to me. For example, studies have shown that brains like mine are wired differently and process thoughts, emotions, stimuli, etc. differently than the majority of people. I think we all tend to default to the position that others’ brains and minds operate the same way ours does; I know that I tended to do so. I do find myself sometimes explaining to people what I’m thinking or feeling because I’m often misinterpreted and then get in trouble with people based on their perceptions rather than my reality. This series is also a place for me to talk about personal history and influences that shaped who I am today. And, yes, I really should get back to this series, at some point..

One of the things that I intended to do was to share poetry, which I do, although seldom with poems that aren’t already published elsewhere. What I didn’t realize when I started Top of JC’s Mind is that, for many journals and publishers, even a personal blog post with a handful of views is disqualifying. I usually only post original work that I don’t foresee being able to publish in a journal, such as current event poems that have been rejected by the couple of venues I know that publish such things or ekphrastic poems that I aren’t chosen in response to The Ekphrastic Review‘s Writing Challenge Series.

What I didn’t foresee was how much I would post about the process of writing poetry and learning about writing poetry. I didn’t know that I would be part of a workshop-in-residence at the Massachusetts Museum of Contemporary Art in North Adams with the Boiler House Poets Collective. Or that I would be publishing in anthologies with the Binghamton Poetry Project. I certainly had no clue that I would eventually publish my first chapbook, Hearts.

I also didn’t realize how much I would write about my family. For their privacy, I chose to refer to them by initials or nicknames, so only people who know us in real life can easily find them. Ten years ago, I didn’t know the paths that the final years of my parents and mother-in-law would take or that I would have two granddaughters who would be living across an ocean from me.

I certainly didn’t know that I would post extensively about a pandemic. I’m continuing to add an occasional COVID-19 post. (I’m getting my updated vaccine on Monday, so another post will be coming.) One of the local historical societies decided to keep an archive of how the pandemic affected daily life in our area and I’m proud that they chose to include print-outs of my COVID-19 posts in that collection. Maybe, a hundred years from now, someone will stumble across them while doing research…

I do weigh in on current events, which are often disconcerting. I’ve written about gun violence and hatefulness in US society because of their sad, overwhelming prevalence. I’ve written quite a lot about government and the bewildering lack of attention to the Constitutional call to “promote the general welfare.” I mourn over the continuation of racism, sexism, bigotry, intolerance, and hatefulness that are so much in evidence and seem to be worsening rather than lessening. I try to show my values of love, respect, inclusion, and care for others and the world. I strive to express my authentic self here at Top of JC’s Mind and take care to be factually correct.

I welcome comments to my posts and do my best to respond. I will engage in respectful debate with those who disagree with me. It doesn’t happen often but I have had instances where I’ve had to delete or edit a comment. This is my platform and I will not have it used to spread misinformation or hatefulness. (I also don’t allow coarse language. My inability to swear or engage in vulgarity is a bit of a running joke among my poetry circles. Somewhere in the back of my head is a voice from my childhood saying, “What! Were you raised in a barn?”)

One of the things that bloggers are supposed to do is amass readers and followers. It’s suggested that a blogger spends a third of their time reading others’ blogs, a third writing posts, and a third writing comments on others’ blogs and responding on their own. That way, you connect with others in the blogging community and get noticed by more bloggers and readers. I really did try to do that early on but, as demands on my personal time grew, I found I only had time to write posts and tend to their comments, with occasional frenzied bouts of reading. Consequently, I don’t have tons of views and followers.

Of course, bloggers are also supposed to track stats. WordPress has a handy page to do this – and I don’t usually – but I will put my all-time stats in this post for the sake of posterity. Ten years of Top of JC’s Mind has ammased:
1,839 posts
7,107 comments
62,805 visits
34, 983 unique visitors
1,950 subscribers/followers

The subscriber/follower number is somewhat inflated. It includes people who have followed me through WordPress, liked my Top of JC’s Mind Facebook page, signed up to receive posts by email, and followed me through Twitter (now X and no longer available for automatic sharing through WordPress.) This means that some individuals are counted more than once. A few that I know of are now deceased. Many of the followers through WordPress are folks who found their way to one of my posts, hit follow, and never visited again. I do have a small core of readers who visit frequently and comment often, which I appreciate so much. You know who you are! I can’t really tell you how many readers I have for a typical post because I can only track site visits; I have no way of knowing how many people read posts sent via email.

I do, though, want to thank everyone who has ever visited Top of JC’s Mind, liked a post, commented, followed, or subscribed. While the process of writing helps to clarify my thoughts, writing for others challenges me to express those thoughts in a cogent way. I appreciate the opportunity to discuss different topics and share thoughts, experiences, and feelings with whoever happens to drop into my tiny sliver of the blogosphere.

I try to keep growing as a blogger. I’m being forced to trying to improve my use of images in order to crosspost to Instagram, which requires an image. (But, seriously, Instagram! Why do you insist on .jpgs only? Why not allow .png and .webp? And why do you have this thing with squares?) Instagram is the reason that so many of my posts lately, including this one, have my photo at the top. I’m trying to decide if I should get a new headshot taken of my post-cataract surgery, post-Invisalign self but I’ve used this photo that spouse B took of me to accompany this poem for so long that I’m loathe to replace it.

So, will I blog here for another ten years? I can’t guarantee, but I do have hope. I hope at least a few of you will stay tuned and journey with me.

Peace,
Joanne Corey of Top of JC’s Mind

Two years without Paco

I work up in the very early morning darkness today thinking about my father, known here and in real life for the last 33-ish years of his life as Paco, the name bestowed on him by my firstborn and his first grandchild E as she was learning to talk.

I suppose this is not surprising because this is the second anniversary of his death. You can read a tribute that I wrote to him a few weeks after his passing here.

What is unfortunate is that in the early morning darkness in which I am now writing this post I am remembering so much of his final years, when I was struggling to get proper support and medical care for him, exacerbated by the pandemic. Even though I was living locally, there were long stretches in which I could not visit in person at all or only for short amounts of time. Phone and video calls were often frustrating, as you can tell from this poem, which was first published in Rat’s Ass Review.

Video Chat with our 95-year-old Father

You said it was scary
today
that we were there

in your bedroom
your three daughters
in pulsating squares

on a screen
You remembered where
home

is for each of us
but not where
it is for you

confused that you
could see us
hear us

but we were not
there
with you

We talked about the snowy
winter, so like our New England
childhoods, when you would

wrangle your orange
snowblower to clear
our way out

We asked if the cut
and bruise on your hand
had finally healed

if you had finished
all the Valentine
goodies we’d sent

Distracted
by a sound
from the living room

you set the tablet
aside
left us

staring at the ceiling

What was most difficult was that, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t secure correct diagnoses or treatments for Paco, illustrated by the fact that his death certificate states that he died from end-stage heart failure, but he was only diagnosed with heart failure about ten days before he died. I had been trying for months to tell the staff at his assisted living and then skilled nursing units of his continuing care community that he was having unexplained symptoms and had accompanied him to outside doctors and emergency room visits, when the pandemic protocols allowed me to stay with him, but it was never enough to get to the bottom of his health difficulties.

I thought I had worked my way out of most of the trauma of that but, in the early morning darkness of this anniversary day, apparently there is still some of that pain left. It’s not that I think I could have further prolonged his 96 years – something that would not have served any of us – but that his final months would have been so much easier for him if he could have received timely, proper diagnosis and medications.

One of the comforts of Paco’s death was the thought of his reuniting with my mom, known here as Nana, who died in May, 2019, also of heart failure and, gratefully, before the pandemic struck. I drafted this poem, which was first published by Wilderness House Literary Review, only a couple of weeks after Paco’s death. 

We probably should have taken off					

his wedding ring before
he died		    before
his hands cooled	      started
to claw
but we couldn’t		       remove
that symbol
			of Elinor
	of two years
		   three months
			twenty-three days
						left
without		her
after
	sixty-five years
		      one month
			   three days
married to her
			the ring
				of her
even    in    days    of    delirium
	    haze			confusion

his ring		not
	sixty-seven years	  old
		but	   twenty
her gift 	         a remedy
	 for missing		some		thing
		of his
  to cling to 		during his three weeks
			       in the hospital
his chest cracked			 open
     		widow-maker averted
				somehow

She inscribed 		his ring	
      ALL MY LOVE  “ME”
     the way she signed 	cards to him
birthday	anniversary	  Christmas
	St. Patrick’s Day
		valentines
the words against his left
	ring finger		believed
to lead most directly to the heart
	which finally failed
		after ninety-six years
			five months
				nineteen days
as hers had
	after eighty-seven years
		     six days

While I go to the sink
to fetch soap 		to ease
the ring off 	his finger
my sister works
it over	 his reluctant 	knuckle

I carry it 	home 
to my daughter
Elinor’s and Leo’s rings
	   unite
on their granddaughter’s finger

[For those of you who might be new to Top of JC’s Mind, I will note that it is really unusual for me to fold poems into posts like this, but somehow, in the early morning darkness, it seemed appropriate.]

I’ll close this post by explaining the significance of the four-generations photo, taken a few weeks before Paco’s death, that begins this post. It shows Paco, me, eldest grandchild E who named Paco, and great-granddaughters, then 4-year-old ABC and just turned 1-year-old JG. This was the first and only meeting of Paco and JG, who had been born in London, UK, in the early months of the pandemic. ABC lived here in the States with us for her first two years and remembered Paco very well. The restrictions on international travel had kept E and her family from visiting but they were able to get special permission to travel together to come visit Paco one last time.

Paco’s health declined quickly after that visit and I’m so grateful that we all had that brief, sweet time together.

Remembering that final farewell through a few tears in the still-before-dawn darkness of this anniversary morning.

One-Liner Wednesday: Ten!

To celebrate today’s tenth anniversary of Top of JC’s Mind, I’ve finally upgraded to having my own domain, joannecorey.com, so you can read Top of JC’s Mind selected from the menu there or, as always, at topofjcsmind.wordpress.com.

This shameless bit of self-promotion brought to you as part of Linda’s One-Liner Wednesdays. Join us! Find out more here: https://lindaghill.com/2023/09/13/one-liner-wednesday-nostalgia/

New domain!

Tomorrow will be the tenth anniversary of Top of JC’s Mind!

To celebrate, I’ve (finally) upgraded my plan and have my own domain address, joannecorey.com. There is a link to Top of JC’s Mind in the main menu and topofjcsmind.wordpress.com will remain active as the blog address indefinitely.

Things are super simple at the moment. I’m using the same Twenty Sixteen theme but without the side bars, widgets, and banners, at least to start. It’s been exciting enough just to get the site up and running this afternoon!

I’ve decided to keep the Author Page in the menu for Top of JC’s Mind, at least for now. Most of the content on joannecorey.com is taken from that page, although divvied up into more reasonable chunks across three pages. Now, though, I can claim to have an author site.

You all can probably guess what my One-Liner Wednesday will be about tomorrow, although I hope to also write a more substantive post about making it through ten years of blogging later in the week.

Enjoy!

NCR comment

A comment I wrote about fossil fuel subsidies in response to this piece by Thomas Reese, SJ is now available on the NCR (National Catholic Reporter) website.

Some of Father Reese’s proposals to combat climate change strike me as not likely to be sufficient in the time frame available but I wanted to offer an additional suggestion rather than being critical.

This post is a bit of a throwback to the early days of Top of JC’s Mind when I was often posting comments in opposition to fracking.

Next month will mark the tenth anniversary of Top of JC’s Mind, which hardly seems possible.

Stay tuned…

SoCS: travels

We are travelling, so this will be short!

We arrived yesterday and saw some relatives that we don’t see often. A sight for sore eyes!

On Monday, we will relocate to a new site to celebrate our 41st wedding anniversary.

(Linda’s prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday this week is “sight/site” with bonus for using both, although the bonus is psychic, not material.)

(Maybe there is an extra bonus for using both and making it short.)

four years

Today is the fourth anniversary of my mother’s death.

As often happens with these dates, sometimes it seems that it couldn’t have been that long and other times it seems longer ago. This warping of time is even more prominent because of the pandemic. I remain grateful that my mother died before we were all faced with the impossible prospect of not being able to visit her in the nursing home where she spent her final months. That would have been a particularly heavy burden for my father, with whom she had celebrated their 65th wedding anniversary a few weeks before she died.

This year feels especially poignant for me as I await the publication of my first chapbook of poetry, Hearts, from Kelsay Books, most likely in June or July. The poems center on my mother with a particular emphasis on her last years dealing with heart failure. She appreciated my writing and I think she would be pleased to know she is the focus of my first book.

She didn’t enjoy having her picture taken, so I will share a photo, taken four years ago in her final days, of one of her favorite flowers, lily-of-the-valley, which was also her birth flower.

Lily of the valley, with Paco’s card to Nana and birthday card made by artist-friend Jim


Love you, Mom. Miss you. Still cry every once in a while…