Archive for May, 2012


A Thought.

I have two malti-poos, brother and sister. Mollie is widdle at six pounds. Widdle is not a typo because that is what she is. Sammy Jr. is eight pounds and a real macho male. He’s not the least bit widdle. He’s a true lover–of food he downs in seconds, his owner’s lap he remains in for hours, his sister’s face that he licks clean, his walks which he performs with exaggerated dignity. But Mollie, oh my Mollie, is excited just to see me. She jumps two feet in the air and grabs a bite of my t-shirt to say “Hello, Mom. I wuv u.”

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Forgiveness

If cleanliness is next to godliness, forgiveness is the real thing–God-ness. Anguish produces nasty bedfellows–the kind that assault your positive intentions and turn your pain to innuendos. Malice replaces fear of death. Blame is passed around like a snack for anyone hungry for fortification of blind belief.

When accosted with tactics of terrible debasement we must not just consider the source, but also the tragedy faced. “Judge and you shall be judged.” But that isn’t important to me. I don’t judge. I just love hope and care.

The Visit

The drapes pulled shut, the lights out, he’s wheeling her out of the bedroom. The right hand darts behind her chair of its own accord. Her right leg starts to shake; her left foot jerks sideways. She’s strapped into the wheelchair so that her spastic movements don’t plummet her to the floor. She purses her lips, looks at her surroundings and mutters.

“You want something to drink?” he asks her. “Need a pain pill?”
“Uh,” she manages to say.
He brings her ice water and a pill. Her sister jumps up from the sofa with napkin in hand to catch the drips that fall from her mouth.

“Do you want something to eat?”
“Uh,” she answers.
“Popsicle?” he says.
“Uh.”
“Pink or purple?”
“Pink or purple,” she repeats.

He brings her a purple ice on a stick and puts it in her left hand–her left arm is the only limb still functioning.
She sucks half the ice, shows signs of anxiety–he hovers around to catch her every need.
“You ready to go back to bed?”

“Uh,” she answers and he wheels herĀ  back to the bedroom. Sister jumps up again to assist with stiff legs in maneuvering her into bed.

Once settled he walks to the front porch to smoke.