Friday, July 10, 2015

The Zone

We all have them.
Somewhere in your habitat, and wherever you travel, something called The Zone is close by.  It is always where you are.  It is invisible.  It makes no noise, has no smell, no one knows its size, and it cannot die even after you do.  It is a mystery.
Not quite a black hole, but very similar.  A black hole eats all cosmic matter falling into its orbit.  At some point it then spits it out.  It doesn't "pull" things in, it's just there for stars and planets to drop into. 
The Zone is very similar.
Nothing is pulled into The Zone.  Things simply "enter" as if instantly transported.  Zap - it's gone.  These items are usually a sock, an earring, one-half of anything, a precious letter, a glove, a shoe, a remote, your last AA battery, a favorite shirt you just had in your hand, your lower denture, the only working pen in the house, and a zillion things from your computer files.  Are you relating to this yet?
Research into the origins of The Zone have resulted in more questions than answers,  For instance, why do these Zones apply only to humans and no other animals?  A dog or cat has none, nor a bird nor hippopotamus.  Only homo sapien sapiens.  The wisest of wise man.  Indeed...
At some indeterminate time, The Zone will spit out the thing you've been looking for over an hour.  Maybe two.  It will not make noise, it will not give any clue to giving up the "thing".  It just zaps it back into your dimension.  If your eyes are good and you still have the sanity to keep looking, this is the time you find it.  Nothing feels as good as when you actually see that _________(insert anything)
There's no point in cursing The Zone to hell.  It is sociopathic and has no feelings.  It is cruel beyond measure.  You will have this shadow-place of mystery all your life, and when you pass away it is still unknown what happens to it. 
The idea that it follows you into the afterlife is too monstrous to consider. 

Monday, May 18, 2015

It's Not About Me


Time to introduce myself to a few home-truths in these cruel days of the shadow of death:

 
 

IT'S NOT ABOUT your instinctive need to comfort her when she cries out in the night yet wants for no comfort and will not be touched;



IT'S NOT ABOUT cleaning the house for her when it's already spotless and she never asked you anyway;



IT'S NOT ABOUT seeing if she's taken her medicine when she knows how to do that almost too well;



IT'S ABOUT GIVING THIS DYING DOVE HER TATTERED WINGS AND SETTING HER INTO THE WIND TO TAKE THAT FINAL FLIGHT, BEFORE SHE RESTS IN THE ARMS OF THE UNIVERSAL ALL.

To Raise You ....


You sit in your corner chair, pillows, blankets, medicine...

You smile. My heart feels a tug and I pray God to humble me in this task. Time to help you up.

I open my arms like an encircling embrace of strength and love, and you hesitantly reach around my neck -

As you rise, your o-so-slender body slips from me

like a long white feather from a dove's wing.

You cannot rise. You are back sitting again, sad.

It's all about what you CAN do”, I say softly, “not what you can't. Let's try again,” You moan but try once more, and

After a few attempts you finally rise into my strong arms
and I release you to your world.

A world of medicine bottles and bandages, pain and frustration at a life which is as fickle as it is glorious.

You have an ocean of friends, who love you almost as much as I. This makes you happy, and you connect each day to these people of your heart.

We will do this, you and I, like sisters of another world who need each other to be complete.
 
Take your time, my sister.  Take your time in these, your last earth-days.   Never will I leave your side.

It is you who must leave me .....

Tuesday, April 21, 2015

Thursday, April 9, 2015

The Holy Beetle?

We call them "ladybugs" but they're not bugs at all, they don't even qualify as insects yet they ARE beetles.  They're basically classified as a form of beetle with a hard exterior shell hiding delicate wings - a semi-exo-skeletal beetle is what I'd call them.  Where did they get such an unusual name, and what are they actually?

First they're a farmer's best pal, wisely used instead of pesticides as they munch on aphids and other pests.  They're also not hard to look at and don't sting or bite. 

The "lady" was named out of gratitude mostly from farmers centuries ago, who prayed to the Virgin Mary, the mother of the son of God, (wait, what?) yes well, it's called a glorious mystery just go with it for now; the Virgin is usually depicted in her red cloak which many believe to be the cloak of Jesus after his death, and when praying for a healthy crop farmers saw these red speckled bugs eating the aphids and were sure it was a gift from Our Lady.

Hence Ladybugs.

Don't ask me about that other thing....
 

Friday, March 27, 2015

Is That A Cell Phone In Your Pocket, Or...


How in hell am I expected to "measure up" in an electronic isolation tank called the e-age, when I'm just an old hippie looking for someone to smile at?  This is easy though, instantly spreading the minutia of my life out into the universe where once upon that time I used to play with stars and swim through nebulae.  An unfaithful me deserted this blog to favor Facebook as I edged closer to following the procession of my friends, and though I've made more they're still "imaginary" with names and faces but no bodies. 
I don't expect it to get worse, but it will - and I'll like it because most of those people are terrific, they really are.  It's the ones I see all around, the faceless unknowns...
More than less, these electronic people are isolated in personal "tubes" as they sit on the bus with heads bent in hard concentration looking down at their cell phones, thumbing in the unseen codes which make up their lives.  No one sees what they're doing, but it always looks important.
Cell phones?  I had a hard time accepting pagers!  Phones are now mini-computers you take everywhere.  Once upon another time, the only computer alive took up a whole room.  I don't think I like this, and I don't think I want to be forced to either, but I know I will because I need people and they need me.  We're connected you see.
Standing wobbly on the sidewalk this morning, leaning on my cane and sipping diner coffee from my cardboard cup, I heard my name called and was startled to see someone from the past rise up like a bad dream in the middle of hell.  This wasn't going to be good, I thought....
As he walked over to me, smiling like a shark, I decided to finally punch him in the face - with words.  I would list all the times he angered me when I held it back, all the lies I knew he told, the thievery from my home I knew he performed, and mostly, the condescending words he'd showered on me for many a year.  He inched closer and I got ready in my mind....
Funny how things never happen exactly as you plan them.  No, maybe not so funny.  I smiled and said hey long time no see how ya been how's your mom are you still with Dee find a job yet whaddaya think of this nutty weather and by the way it's great to see an old pal...hypocritical coward that I am, this mantra spilled down from my brain and fell out of my mouth.  I hate myself.   
I offered to buy him a coffee.
We chatted side by side at the diner's counter, pushing ketchup bottles and napkin holders out of our way and nursing our coffee.  I noticed his face was cracked and greenish-gray like an old sea turtle who's been under water too long.  He hadn't aged well - and he had the scent of his home on his clothes.  
I turned my head to meet his eyes.
"So tell me, what's new in your life these days?"  I wanted a better answer than "aw nothing".  Without a second's hesitation, he said:
"Boy do I love my computer!"  He took out a cell phone.
Time for me to leave...