My brain still functions the same now as in my youth. Yet I am different; I do not look the same or believe as I did but I am still me. Still planning, waiting, hoping, and dreaming but now there is a disclaimer statement attached to all I say, do or think. I sense the innocent recognition that there has been an alteration in my very being. My ‘’forever” is suddenly narrowed; my personal timeline is more carefully threaded. I brood over the fact that life is short, reality fleeting and my contribution to this world trifling yet buoyant.
Archive for November, 2011|Monthly archive page
“Do you believe that God manifests himself in our very flesh?” thundered the pastor.
“Yea!” shouted the congregation.
“That God is present in everyone, even our worst enemies?”
“That God is present in this time of horrible war, even if we can’t see how?”
The pastor paused. “Come, then, to share together the Lord’s body in holy communion.” He lifted a mangled human arm. Over the congregation’s stunned gasps, he intoned, “Lord, you dwell in the flesh of our enemies. When we partake of them, we are united with you.” He ripped a bite-sized chunk from the arm.
Long-time San Franciscan Lenny Goodman passed away on Friday from a combination of liver failure, diabetes, emphysema, etc. at the age of 42. He was unmarried.
A friend to all, Lenny was known for surreptitiously trying to take the brunt of his friends’ harmful habits. Never thinking of his own health, he often asked friends for a toke of their cigarette, then puffed it down as fast as he could so that they wouldn’t inhale so much smoke. He sneakily chugged the drinks of friends who were too drunk for their own good.
Public services will be held on Thursday.
“I just wish you’d give me credit sometimes,” she said as she washed the family’s dinner dishes at the sink. She would always find something to keep her hands busy when she was stressed.
“You think you’ve done it all on your own. So much more than you realize about the way you are is because of hard work by me and dad.”
Lisa-Anne scowled- why does mom always try to take all the credit for my life? If I owe my life to her, then she owes her life to her parents. It’s not like she started it all.