Month: January 2026

Mom and I have almost made it through January, and I have taken control of the laptop for a few minutes. Nevertheless, to paraphrase Garrison Keillor, “… it’s been a quiet month in Estes Park, Colorado, my chosen home, out there in the mountains.”

Mom tries to be upbeat. I know, however, that the current world situation including the not so quiet month in Minnesota, as well as the short cold days of January, are something that she would like to put behind her. Me? I wish the sun shown on my sleeping place a little earlier in the morning. Nevertheless, napping is napping regardless of sunshine or not.

Mom says that even though it is cold and windy outside, we must be grateful to live in a cozy house. Despite the windy conditions, she goes out to walk or hike every day. As the saying goes, there is no such thing as bad weather, just bad clothing. My fur is my blessing, and I avoid the outdoors.

According to what I learned on AI, January was named for the Roman god Janus, protector of gates and doorways. Janus is depicted with two faces, one looking into the past, the other into the future. January symbolizes the spirit of new beginnings and fresh starts, but I don’t see myself starting anything new. Mom didn’t set any intentions for the year, but I know she wants to stay healthy.

I heard on the radio that this January is the driest on record in Colorado. It is frightening because we need moisture to have adequate water in the summer as well as to cut down on wildfire danger. I don’t ever want to evacuate again like we did in 2020. I can tell mom is concerned.

I understand that people often want to “hibernate” in January. I get it. Mom, however, is not into hibernation. She stays busy and finds solace in her volunteer work at the park. She tries to be positive about the park she calls her “happy place,” but funding cuts and new mandates frustrate her. I sense her mixed emotions after spending time volunteering.

Mom misses Mog every day. I miss her too, but I now take her place on the office chair for napping and share the middle of the bed with mom at night. Mog relegated me to the bottom of the bed when she was alive. I know I am not the same as Mog by her side, but I try to be a good boy and let her know how much I love her.

We’re making it through January. Mom and I are blessed.

On New Year’s Day a woman was killed by a mountain lion on a trail less than 10 miles away from where I live. It was tragic, and so unfortunate that it happened. It was the first human killed by a mountain lion in Colorado in 25 years. Wildlife officials tracked and killed two juvenile lions in the area who were suspected of being the killers. One of the animals had human DNA on his paws so clearly was involved in the incident.

I understand why the lion perpetrators of the attack needed to be euthanized, but the incident saddened me. Rehabilitating bears that break into homes, wolves that kill domestic livestock, and mountain lions that attack people is difficult. Nevertheless, I am reminded of the poem by Kelli O. Kersell:

Who will speak for the animals,

For those who have no choice?

Who will keep them safe from harm,

Who will be their voice?

I live in a place that is abundant with wildlife. I revel each day in seeing the animals. Clearly where I live, as Jane Goodall suggested, “We’re not… separate from the animal kingdom. We’re part of it.” Goodall spent most of her career showing how similar humans and non-humans are. Animals deserve compassion, just like us. I think most people where I live are compassionate about animals, but we also must be responsible in living with these creatures.

My colleagues in natural resource management have written about the urban wildlife interface. As we destroy more open areas once populated with wildlife, these animals have adapted to a world where living with humans is inevitable. Dan Flores researched coyotes for decades and maintains that, for example, probably 5000 live in Chicago and are helping to keep down the populations of geese and deer. Unfortunately, they may also prey on cats and dogs. The interface is complicated. Nevertheless, human compassion should be extended to animals as well as humans.

The mountain lions who killed a woman two weeks ago cannot be ignored. Humans are not normal prey. Regardless of the wild animal, humans must be respectful. Animals need their spaces. Acknowleging that animals are part of nature is essential and people are responsible for preventing wildlife-human conflicts.

I will continue to spend time in the wilderness by myself and with others. I will do what I can to minimize the danger to myself and the animals. I will try to avoid conflicts and take action to be a voice for them.

I do not want to sound like one of those old people who talk about the good old days. Until recently I did not feel the past was better than today. I marvel at the transformations that have occurred in my lifetime. I am in awe of what has emerged in the past 75 years.

I am particularly aware of the changes in technology. My childhood had three channels on a black and white TV with rabbit ears. It went off the air every night with the playing of the national anthem. In high school I was excited to have a little transistor radio that I listened to at night with favorite songs that only aired from time to time. I took a typing class in high school in preparation for college and remember us students begging to take turns using the only electric typewriter that we had.

Technology that really changed my life was the invention of email and the world wide web. I recall reading Future Shock in the mid-70’s and fantasizing about the possibilities someday or having information instantaneously available at one’s fingertips rather than having to consult an encyclopedia or get help from a librarian. Who would have believed that we would be carrying unlimited information in our pockets every day.

I have also witnessed the revolutions in healthcare over the years. In 1950, the average life expectancy was 46 years; in 2023 it is 73 years. I have benefited from vaccines that have become available to save lives. I remember especially the joy that my mom expressed when polio vaccine became available when I was in grade school.

The political environment has greatly interested me. Seeing TV clips of the civil rights movement were perplexing to me as a child who was growing up in an exclusively white community. I recall the concerns of nuclear war related to aspects such as the Cuban missile crisis. My parents built a “fall-out” shelter in our basement just in case nuclear war happened. Little did I know how futile that shelter activity was.

The Vietnam War was central to my high school and college years. As time went on, I became jaded by the ability of any war to solve problems. I continue to seek understanding of how diplomacy is better than war. Until the past year, I believed that I grew up and lived in an international order that sought peace, stability, and growth.

I could go on with my perspectives on other major changes. I will, however, leave it here as I contemplate what may happen in 2026 that will significantly impact my life and the lives of people I love as well as those individuals I do not know.

I love my family of origin. My biological family shaped my core values and beliefs. I miss my parents and strive to maintain connections with my sisters. I am grateful, however, for the families of choice that have emerged over the years. These networks of friends and colleagues offer comfort and rituals that nurture me. My family of origin (FOO) provided foundational lessons. My families of choice (FOC) are intentional and offer meaningful connections.

I value what I learned from my FOO. They nurtured me with love, boundaries, communication skills, and influence about how the world works. My upbringing was not perfect. At times I did not believe my family understood me. On the other hand, I am grateful for what I learned about frugality, generosity, kindness, and reverence for the natural world.

Today I call several groups my FOC. These families do not supplant the FOO that provided love and safety in both my child and adulthood. These families, however, supplement my world and enable me to continue to grow as my FOO became less central to my life.

My FOCs are active through our commitments to one another. For example, I have a special family that started during my graduate school days. These people provided the essential sustenance I needed to complete my academic work and then maintain productivity and networking throughout my academic career. These friends and mentors, although some have passed away, continue to nourish my wellbeing.

A group of women came into my life when I lived in Madison, Wisconsin over 45 years ago. We have continued to get together in small and large groups over the years. They are the family that I can re-connect with in a matter of minutes upon reuniting. They have been steadfast during times of joy and sadness.

I am part of a FOC in Estes Park who are steadfast in my everyday life. They are also an anchor in celebrating holidays. I know that I can count of them for anything that I need. I hope they feel the same about me. They have enabled me to define family in my own terms.

I have been fortunate to have FOCs come in and out of my life over the years. I cannot imagine what life would be like without the foundational family I was born into as well as the created compassionate families that I have chosen, and that have chosen me.