Do I look fat to you?
I don’t look fat to me. But, at the time that picture was taken, I thought I was huge. I thought no one wanted to know me or talk to me.
How did I get that way?
Could it possibly have been from a brother that told me I was a fatty, fatty, two by four? It was one of his repetitive tortures, that gave him a sense of power. Or, was it from a brother-in-law, that called me lard ass, like that was my name? Continue reading HEAVY Conversation
Remember friend, as you pass by ~ As you are now, so once was I ~ As I am now, you soon shall be ~ So prepare for Death and follow me.
This is an epitaph from a relative’s tombstone. Words that I grew up with. My grandmother, mother and aunt, use to take us to the cemetery, after Mass. It seemed appropriate to visit the dead, on Sunday.
To walk with head bowed, looking at the dirt and envisioning the emptiness. The nothingness of the after-life. It looked like a weird neighborhood. The tombstones had addresses that were years; one – to the other. The personalities living on in quirky sayings, that haunted me in the week.
I took those words to heart. How was I to prepare for death? Continue reading This Is Life
THE SHOW MUST GO ON!
These empty seats represent my family ~ the dead and the living.
Life is a comic-tragedy.
Shakespeare has nothing on us.
It’s nine o’clock on a Sunday. It’s beautiful weather out – for here. Never mind that my nose is suffering from the chemically polluted air. My nose works hard to protect me; to save my life.
I work hard to protect me; to save my life.
I recently read Uncle Tom’s Cabin. What a good book. The characters became important to me. I wanted them to live – to survive – to overcome the evil, atrocities of their everyday existences.
Faced with being separated from his family, due to the harsh circumstances, called slavery, Uncle Tom accepted. He put his faith in Jesus, and a life beyond. He had faith that Christ was the answer.
This is not what I want to write, a commentary on Uncle Tom; Little Eva, Prue and Aunt Chloe. I want to tell you about Mama Cheri’s Cabin. Continue reading Mama Cheri’s Cabin
It is nice.
To me.
Would you like for this to be your stove. Probably not. Would you want to live in a five hundred square foot house. Probably not. Would you really want to leave your culture behind and learn another language to survive. Probably not. Would you be OK with an occasional snake or scorpion in your house. Probably not. Would you drive a thirty year old car and work to keep it running, on outrageously rough roads. Probably not.
My life is nice. It’s customized. Continue reading Must Be Nice
Don’t tell anyone, but ten years ago today, I was on a trip in Mexico. I was doing my usual thing, wandering off from everyone and everything. I was inhaling hot sun and exhaling residual U.S. toxins. One of my favorite pastimes. I was admiring the cactus. I was a little nervous; on edge. I felt alone.
I mean really alone. I felt as existential as a roadside chicken.
Then I saw it. There at my feet was a piece of cloth; worn burlap. It appeared to be something buried. I squatted and began to dig. My mind said, walk away, this is trash. What are you doing? But I couldn’t stop. My curiosity had me.
And I’m so glad I didn’t, because what I found was gold. An actual buried gold brick. What! Continue reading Dumb Questions
Not everyone has the same experiences in life. Family has been like walking a path – in very heavy traffic – I dodge, weave, and get hit. I find it best to hide out in the median.
Eanie meanie mynie moe
Catch a sibling by the toe
If they beat you to and froe
RUN TO GOD
Because~nobody else is going to help you
Tell the story ~ Tell the whole story ~ I’ll tell you the story.
“The family that prays together stays together. The family that drinks together, stinks together”
My eyes opened to many thoughts. Pictures in my brain, with story lines. Family characters playing out their roles. Even the dead ones.
My granddaughter’s not talking to me – – someone told her she is owed thousands of dollars – my sister staring at me on the big screen – knowing that there is no love – a line on my Facebook account telling me I don’t know Christ – a boating accident – beer – drinks – screaming-
She’s dead – but she lives on.
I have always desired a life separate from others. I wanted to seek God. I searched for God in books. I searched for God in churches. I had ecumenical discussions with-anyone that would listen, but mostly I was talking to myself. I sought God in hallucinogenics and surprisingly, I found Him there. However, on that cerebral latitude, I ran in full flight from the roaring lion, hot on my heels to devour, the lot of my being.
Collapsing under the weight of my odyssey, I began anew. Grateful to have survived, and humbled by my selfish trek, my life took a new direction.
Once again, I was seeking God, even though I knew I had found him.
The light of God, illuminated my path.
Deep in meditation.
Fish Eye Farm 