The value of a brother in Christ

Great lunch meeting with a dear, close friend today. I miss the days when we could meet weekly. We shared and prayed some good stuff today, I think, rooted in a long history of walking together.

Today's words

On this list of 13 (with apologies for sending the reader to what is clearly a marketing site), I knew six, and have experienced at least three or four others. My new ones, plus a couple of bonus words discovered when looking up ones links for the ones from the list that I didn't know:

overmorrow - the day after tomorrow, apparently obsolete

which lead to the also obsolete

ereyesterday - the day before yesterday

eigengrau - the uniform dark gray background that many people report seeing in the absence of light

apparently also virtually obsolete

dysania -  state of finding it hard to get out of bed in the morning

very rarely used

eyesome - pleasant to look at

archaic

 anuptaphobia - the fear of remaining unmarried or being married to the wrong person

a rare word, but its roots make perfect sense

collop - 1. a small piece or slice especially of meat  2. a fold of fat flesh

the only of these words to be both common enough and current enough to be included on Merriam-Webster's site. Also, the first I think I've heard before.

lethologica - the inability to remember a word or put your finger on the right word

The Free Dictionary entry for this word then led me to the related

loganamnosis - the obsession with trying to recall a word that one wishes to use

 

The "Love is love" trend

I just read a litany about all the things that marriage allegedly isn't about, with an example for each one indicating why it isn't. One of them was procreation.

Really?

Gay marriage may be among the least damaging effects of our efforts to separate of our sexuality from its primary biological function. Or it may be far more damaging than we understand. Perhaps both of these are true at the same time. But here are some other serious results of that trend: broken families, rape culture, sexual abuse, STD epidemic, single parenthood, emotionally broken children who grow into emotionally stunted adults, increased poverty and crime (in prison, Mother's Day is the most difficult day to use the phone; Father's Day is just another day), pornography addiction, other sexual addiction, prostitution, sex trafficking, abortion, etc.

When compared against this list, it's easy to understand why proponents of allowing gay couples to marry insist that they aren't hurting anyone.

(It is no coincidence that so many items on the list above could also be listed as effects of drug addiction, as the neurotransmitters engaged in our sexuality are as powerful as many artificial addictive substances, and they are commonly engaged both in sexual activity and drug use.)

In a world with 7+ billion people, I can understand why some might argue that sexuality and procreation shouldn't necessarily have anything to do with each other. 

Today's bonus word

orology - the science of mountains

Courtesy of today's Jumble Crossword. (Sorry; I'm all hyperlinked out today.)

Today's words

jiggery-pokery \ˈji-gər-ē-ˈpō-kər-ē\ - underhanded manipulation or dealings :  trickery

This piece of vocabulary used by Justice Scalia in his scathing dissent from the majority SCOTUS ruling on the most recent challenge to the ACA to make it through the court was highlighted in a Words at Play blog post. The renowned post author, whose books I'm going to have to check out on Amazon Prime if I can get my wife to leave her Kindle behind when she goes on vacation, presents it as simple example of rhyming slang, with a wonderfully witty editorial nod to its (presumably) English source. However, a commenter on this post pointed out a possible older Scottish etymology for the word, and Google led me to this gem - which you should get while it's available as its linked and related article from the previous week appears to be gone; it also provides a likely etymology for the modern verb juke.

stare decisis \ˌster-ē-di-ˈsī-səs, ˌstär-\ - a doctrine or policy of following rules or principles laid down in previous judicial decisions unless they contravene the ordinary principles of justice

The same blog post led me to this legal term of Latin origin. I was familiar with the concept but the actual term is new for me. My brain is going to insist on the Latin pronunciation, even though I don't really know Latin, because that's just how I am.

waddy \ˈwä-dē\ - cowboy

I believe I've encountered today's WOTD before, but didn't remember it when I saw it. (I wish the Merriam-Webster website would use the same pronunciation scheme for the WOTD as for the rest of the site.) 

skewbald \'skew-ˌbȯld\ - 1. (adj) of an animal :  marked with patches of white and any other color but black  2. a skewbald horse

And one of the the examples in that WOTD write-up has led me to this other word that I'm pretty sure I'd never heard before. It makes me wonder if this word inspired the Peter, Paul and Mary classic, Stewball.

 An uncommonly rich morning for new words!

Two smiles this morning . . .

. . . following another restless evening (for far more mysterious reasons than the night before):

First, talk about living on the edge! The bungee walk!

Then this gem from a Words at Play post about Scalia's dissent on the SCOTUS ACA ruling:

Jiggery-pokery comes from Britain, as does most of the finest rhyming slang and spicy mustards . . . 

(I'm ignoring the awkward verb/subject disagreement issue . . . )

More on the latter in today's vocabulary post.

Another thought about the value of dialogue

In addition to my preference for writing, which I will freely grant is partly because it gives me a chance to keep from being a clumsy oaf with regard to the effect that the expression of my own feelings is likely to have on the recipient, there is an element of emotional safety that the dialogue process is supposed to provide for us.

For instance - and I mention this strictly as example; I am not at all still dwelling on this moment - on Sunday I needed for my bride to understand that I was struggling. Yet because I had to express that in the context of the plans she was trying to make, my feelings were received as an impediment to her desire to do something nice for me rather than as an indication of my need for support. Therefore, the response I received wasn't support and love, but frustration and irritation.

This whole incident wasn't affirming for either one of us. It slapped her down in her well-intended and loving initiative as she tried to do something nice for me, and reinforced once more my long-standing tendency to guard my heart and mind.

Today's words

Could this new vocabulary be?

anastrophe \uh-NASS-truh-fee\ - inversion of the usual syntactical order of words for rhetorical effect

Recognized immediately, I did, the speaking practice of a character short, green, pointy-eared and wise. Knew not, did I, the word for it.

anacoluthon \ˌa-nə-kə-ˈlü-ˌthän\ - syntactical inconsistency or incoherence within a sentence; especially :  a shift in an unfinished sentence from one syntactic construction to another (as in “you really ought—well, do it your own way”)

I also wasn't familiar - oh, you should probably just follow the link for the lowdown on this one. Watch out for its preferred plural.

Who I am

For as long as I can remember, I've always been most comfortable expressing myself in writing. This was certainly true when we started dating in high school, and it has never changed. It seems to me that you wrote letters back to me back then, too, but I could be remembering wrong. There have been quite a few sleeps since then.

You haven't said it, but I agree that you shouldn't have to read my blog to find out what I'm thinking and feeling. That is part of why I enjoy marriage encounter's dialogue process: it gives us a chance to share our selves with each other one-to-one. It eliminates the assumption that communication is just going to happen all by itself when it far more commonly gets lost in the shuffle of our busy lives. But you hate that approach, and I would rather suffer for myself than pressure you into an unpleasant experience every day, especially when you've already given it a fair try.

It's probably irrelevant that if you had a blog where you shared what was on your mind, I would read it religiously. If you enjoyed expressing yourself that way, we wouldn't be at odds in this area.

I feel lonely

When I shared what I was dealing with on my most difficult day of the year, I really didn't expect to get my balls busted for it. It underscores for me how hopeless I am of ever being one with anyone again in all four areas: spiritually, emotionally, intellectually, physically.

Maybe I never have been.

Lord, help me to remember that the unity for which I long can only truly be found in You, and that your longing for it on my behalf far exceeds my own.

A not-awful day

I had to put it aside and get on with things in order for it to get better.

The morning started off pretty darkly, and if I'd kept up with just stewing in my thoughts it would have ended that way, too. After all, by the end of the day two of my girls had made all the time and effort for me that it took them to send a text, and one of them should never be expected to make any time or effort for me anyway. But this would have bothered me much more had I just been moping already.

I suppose the transition started by going to mass again. Prior to that I was pretty emotionally wracked, resisting the day amid my usual dynamic of being certain that I don't deserve to be celebrated as a dad. When my wife started talking about where she might take me out for Father's Day, I know that my response took her aback: "You know I just try to survive this day, right?" Then I quietly went downstairs and cried for a few moments.

It's clear that she doesn't understand the struggle. I'm not sure she understands how severely damaging my actions were. So I'm glad that our parish doesn't so much honor us on Father's Day as simply pray over us.

After my wracked tears, I dried my eyes and put the finishing touches on getting ready. Once at church, my emotions settled down pretty well, and I was able to enjoy the homily to which I'd only been able to give passing attention the previous evening as I tried to keep our youngest granddaughter from being excessively distracting to our side of the church. When our middle daughter and her husband inquired after the service about getting together, my wife invoked my earlier response to her in dismissing their suggestion, to which I wasn't really averse.

The evening and morning had been dry after a rain-filled Saturday morning and afternoon, so when we got home I checked the status of the yard. It seemed dry enough to allow me to mow, even the back, which'd had me worried. Since I wasn't sure if I'd get another shot at it before more rain rolls into the area, I got right on the chore. It was a hot early afternoon, but the job went smoothly.

After finishing the grass, I saw that my wife had responded to a FB message from our youngest daughter looking for someone to join her and the kids for an early dinner out, asking me if I wanted to do so. I agreed, especially as I knew it wouldn't be too fancy or expensive. Clancy's was the plan, and middle daughter and her husband agreed to join us. The timing was perfect, because I needed to take time to finish up with our evaluation of this month's budget. By the time I emerged from the shower to leave, the youngest had cancelled because the kids needed a nap, so it would be just the four of us. Before we left I made sure to announce my intentions for a bike ride afterward. It wasn't clear that the weather was going to cooperate, but after enjoying a more leisurely meal than we'd planned due to slow delivery of our food - though it was still nice to hang out together - the cloud cover had given way and it was a quite nice late afternoon.

I did have a slight - and welcome - delay before setting out on my ride, and the evening weather was quite nice. Based on a known wash-out in the path to the east, I decided to head toward town. I figured I could get as far as the bridge across the river for a short jaunt north, but I also only intended to be out for an hour. The direction ended up being convenient, as there was a fairly stiff and steady westerly wind, so I worked into it on the way downtown and would have it at my back on the way home. I wasn't watching the time or the distance very closely when I hit a flooded section of the path about a half mile before the switchback for the bridge, it seemed like a good turn-around point. It turned out to be perfect, as it made for a 17-mile ride in just over an hour.

In the absence of making me a "nice dessert" as I'd suggested for the day - since I'm the only one of us capable of actually, you know, planning ("in advance" being redundant) - the mrs. took my fall-back suggestion and picked us up the peach cobbler from City Barbecue to finish the day off. A second shower had me ready for a good night's sleep. My legs and stomach didn't completely cooperate, unfortunately; I was short a full meal on the day, and when my restless, tired limbs awoke me around 12:30 my belly announced its dissatisfaction, too, so I had a quick snack before returning to sleep for the night.

how can this day still catch me off guard?

God, please get me through another one.

Rain

rain

rain

rain


At this rate, I should be able to mow the back yard again sometime in July.

It was *so* nice to have the money

Just sunk 4 bills into my car. Exhaust leak repaired, tie rod end replaced, tires for front, alignment, oil change.

Had the money to pay for it.

Now need to replenish the emergency fund. But an unexpected refund from our homeowners insurance, following an adjustment based on a review last month, covered half of it.

I guess we're being unclear

"We only watch the kids while you work."

So why, then, does mom get a text close to midnight that you're stuck in traffic due to an accident on a street that isn't on the way from work to our house?

Okay, your friends are celebrating their baby adoption. You didn't have to go to the hospital after work on a work night to be with them while we continued to watch your kids on a work night. You probably assumed that, if you asked, we'd say no. If so, you're probably right. That's why we want to transition from being your child care provider to being just grandparents again. An hour or two of being with your kids so you can hang out with your friends is way different from an extra hour or two after we've already watched them for twelve hours.

The four walls

Dave Ramsey says that the first priority, before undertaking any of the baby steps, is to take care of the "four walls" of the household: food, shelter (and basic utilities), clothing, and basic transportation.

Even if you're not following Financial Peace University in an effort to accomplish the baby steps, this seems like a good starting point for evaluating the physical well-being of household. These "walls" don't address emotional or other important needs, but if you aren't taking care of them you shouldn't reach the conclusion that you and your family are "okay."

Today's words

Okay, I'm not going to list all the new ones in this cool blog post, several of which were familiar to me, and a couple of which were new but obvious. I have recently wished, on multiple occasions, that a word like antepenultimate existed, and now it will enter my active vocabulary - unlike most of the words in the post.

For me, a lot

So, Friday night included a beer and a couple swigs of moonshine. Saturday included a Maker's Mark at Steve and Jodi's, a generous pour of Tanqueray on the rocks at the reception followed by a glass of champagne. Today I drank one of Teri's Mike's hard black cherry lemonades when there wasn't anything made up to pour after my drink.

I haven't been anywhere near inebriated all weekend, though.

An exceptional day

It felt *so* nice to be included in Ashley and Garrett's celebration. Especially when we saw the size of the event, we felt truly special. And for Hannah to be included, too, really made the event for us. We danced more than we ever have, because she was on the floor most of the evening. We all had such a blast, and got to spend it with such wonderful company, including the Berent clan, John and Rita McGinn, Mary and Rita Heider, the Nixes - with whom we had a drink between the service and the reception,too - and of course the Huber family.

Dreams go by

The first track on Greatest Stories Live is all the reminder I need of why I've stopped listening to Harry Chapin.

(especially alone)

A funny, off-color toast, but a reminder therein

As we were passing around the white lightning as the lightning crackled through the sky last night, each one sharing a toast as it was our turn to drink, one of the guys shared this, "as my great grandma told me on her death bed:

"Remember the storks, which bring the good babies,
and remember the ravens, which bring the bad babies,
and remember the swallows, which bring no babies at all."

Now, it was a joke, and it was funny, and I laughed with the rest (though I'm pretty sure my wife hadn't joined the circle yet). But I've been reflecting a lot lately on how we've turned the pleasure of our sexuality into its purpose. Don't get me wrong: I'm not suggesting that each act of sex should have the goal of conception, nor that couples who can't (or mustn't) conceive shouldn't have sex or take appropriate action when they do. But that doesn't mean I'm not aware of the attitude that a baby is an undesirable outcome of the expression of our love, or worse, the ultimate damper on our fun. This separation of sex from procreation is at the root of a vast set of misunderstandings we have about ourselves and our world. Pope Paul VI was prophetic when he wrote of the fruit that the contraceptive mindset would bear. We must be careful, even when our circumstances compel us to choose in apparent diversion from the ideal, not to let this choice erode the sanctity of our sexual nature as couples and as a culture.

I'm not so good at that.

Revelatory contrasts

A hurting family, and a joyful one:

Of course, we can be mostly one and still know some of the other. I think that most of us have a mix of these two things in our lives. The beloved family who is grieving their son's death has mixed amid their anguish the joy he brought to their lives, the memories of the precious person he is, and the belief that he is now set free of his failings to be in God's presence for all eternity.  The beloved family celebrating their daughter's wedding is grieving the absence of the son who isn't here because he was unwilling or unable to manage his leave requests such that he could be with them.

It has been good for us, in this week in which we have been hurting with the first family to also celebrate our love for and with them. It will be good, too, when rejoicing with the second family today to share in their twinge of emptiness.

Knowing that God is self-sufficient can leave us with the impression that God is free from pain and grief, even if we look at the cross and know otherwise, because we associate these things with lack, and we know that God has no lack. But I think that instead we should sometimes - perhaps much more often and more completely - associate them with love, with our union with other hearts. And God is love.

My brain keeps going "yeah, but . . . "

The latest one is this quote from a new friend's post: a few bad chapters does not mean your story is over.

Two compliments this week

This week included the day which I had long ago recognized as my personal annual d-day if there is ever going to be one, on which I might hold to a minimum the long term pain of making a stupid and self-absorbed decision. It isn't that I am looking to make such a decision, but rather putting even the possibility off to this one occasion of the year helps me dismiss any thought patterns that might lead me there. I find it ironic and perhaps providential that this week I have received two incredible compliments which have been building me up.

The first came on Tuesday, when a young woman of faith whom we have watched grow up in our parish shared a birthday blessing, telling me that because of me she knows it is sometimes possible to tell just by looking at someone that they know Jesus. She said that for as long as she can remember she has watched me radiate God's love, joy and peace in a way that few can. I know I don't get the slightest bit of credit for that grace, for it is the work of God. But I am so grateful that he has let his light shine through me in this way, even though I have not known it.

The second was today after Jesse's Mass of Christian Burial. Our music director told me how much she enjoys working with me, how easy I make things for her. I know she's a stickler for good worship and excellence in music, and this compliment means all the more because of her high standards.

God is so good, to allow us to participate in and radiate his glory!

Bidding farewell

Today we said our final goodbyes to Jesse, and placed him in the Lord's loving arms. We believe that is where he keeps us all, so that we will never be fully separated from him.

He was trying to turn his life around, and just didn't quite get there before the damage he'd done to himself caught up to him. He is healed, now, no longer addicted and broken. There remains for us the sadness of seeing his daughters grow up without their dad, but since he wasn't married to either of their moms, there is also the hope of the Lord will providing for each of them a dad who will care for them as his own. And there is the knowledge that there are two generations of grandparents and aunts and uncles who will continue to pour love into their lives.

I know that his parents will carry their pain for a very long time; in some ways it will never be gone from them, though it will not always be as acute as it is today. I am so grateful to have been able to minister to them in music, and especially to have been able to help their dear friends express their love in song, too.

Not quite a week, but a long one (part 3)

. . . but has become more than a week, by the time I finish posting about it . . .

Sunday morning I wanted to get up and play and sing at 8:00 mass as well as 10:30. I like doing that when grandchildren logistics don't prevent it, and since they were with their dad for the night I had no conflict. I'd gotten my music ready Saturday evening before bed, and arose with the alarm to get ready to be at the church by 7:30.

Music went well, and I had a chance afterward to talk with my wife's friend a bit about how things had been going for both of our families. I traded texts with Teri, too, asking her to bring me a banana so I could eat a bite between masses as I hadn't had anything already. I was pleasantly surprised when our other guitarist was there for mass, as we probably hadn't played together in a couple months. At both masses Jesse's passing and arrangements were mentioned during the announcements. Afterward we decided to leave Teri's car where it was and take mine to the hospital for another visit with Michael. His mom was there, too, preparing for his release.

While g-ma was ordering lunch for him, I received a panicked text from our youngest. Her ex was saying that he wasn't going to let the kids go with her on Sunday. I presume this was because they said they didn't want to, even though it was her birthday. She had gotten him to relent, but asked me to go get them as she was worried that he was going to be verbally abusive to her. That plan ended up being too complicated, though, as I don't know exactly where their dad lives, and none of the cars that were easily available had capacity for two adults and four kids. She ended up going and getting them herself. I tried to go over and find the place in case there were any problems, but I couldn't and there weren't.

I headed back home and had a nap, then took care of the kitchen, which had been neglected since Tuesday. About the time I was headed to the festival for some dinner before my shift I received a panicked text (theme of the day) from our oldest asking if I could please deliver a baby gate to her house to keep the dogs safely away from Michael's freshly-repaired leg. So, off to West Carrollton I went, running into a traffic slowdown on I75 due to an accident that was being cleared. I got back to the festival with about enough time to go to the basket booth, where I was persuaded to agree to drop another $10 that I really thought better of but which we had budgeted for festival. (We didn't win.) At that point I had time to grab a Polish sausage and report for the final shift at our booth. Inventory management resulted in apologetically listing for each customer that came to our booth in the last hour-plus of the festival the ever-dwindling options that were available for their selection. Most of them were pretty good-natured about it. We also took up the carpet remnants we used for padding; this was the first year that they were still dry by Sunday night. Normally this might have been left for booth tear down the next day, but there was overnight rain in the forecast, and it's so much easier to handle dry carpet remnants than sopping wet ones! We also took down the roof tarp to take advantage of it being dry. Even though it didn't rain until late the next afternoon, it turned out that these preventive measures paid off, as they barely finished tear down before the rain started.

All-in-all, it was a pretty crazy week. It has, of course continued, with details for music for Jesse's celebration of life, and a birthday get-together with all of our daughters and grandchildren.

Not quite a week, but a long one (part 2)

Saturday morning's wake-up was probably earlier than it needed to be. I've got a bit of a Catch 22 going on: there is no point in buying room darkening shades so that daylight doesn't wake me, because my wife has been sleeping with the window open and the curtain pulled back to facilitate air flow. So I got up, ate some breakfast, and had plenty of time to get ready. She got up a bit later, and we donned out bib numbers, finally found her arch tape, and headed to the parish for the 5k.

After finishing my run with far-and-away my best over-50 time, I started walking the course to join up with the mrs. About a mile back I met her, and walked the rest of the way in with her. We had some breakfast and were still in the gym when they came in with the results. They were only awarding the winning men and women in three groups: overall, under-15 and over-50. I've always wished I could place in the awards in my age group, and have never managed it. I figured I surely wasn't the first finisher among the old folks; there were a couple of guys who were ahead of me the entire race who looked like they were my age. Much to my surprise, I won my age group! I keep telling everyone that it was only because the fast guy - way faster than me - who has won our age group every previous year wasn't there, but that doesn't make it any less special. 

While we were finishing breakfast, Fr. Dave sat down next to us. Before we had a chance to talk, his phone rang or buzzed, and he proceeded to pick up a message. I could tell by the look on his face that it was about Jesse. We went home and showered and headed to the hospital, and the family came out from where they'd prayed together with him prior to Fr. Dave giving him last rights. I'd taken my guitar with me, determined to sing a song to him, but right after Fr. Dave left the room the doctors came in to examine Jesse. It was clear that he was not responding to what they were doing.

We patiently awaited a chance to go in and sing to him. After a few minutes, the doctors asked his parents to leave the room, too. As they stood in the hallway talking with another friend, it seemed as if they'd prefer a bit of privacy, so Teri went out to be with the rest of the family and I moved just a little further down the hallway, where I stood silently praying the rosary, leaning against the wall over my guitar case while awaiting a chance to go in and sing to him. A few minutes after I finished the rosary, the doctors came out and informed Jesse's parents that they'd hold a family consultation in a half hour. By then Teri had rejoined me, and Kathy gave us the go ahead to visit with Jesse. As I finished singing Healer of my Soul to him, a hospital chaplain came by, and after ascertaining that a priest had already visited, offered to pray with us for Jesse. So we did that, then headed back out to the family waiting area. Jesse's dad came in after the consultation to tell us that the doctors had declared Jesse brain dead, and that he would be evaluated for organ donation before being disconnected from artificial life support, which would also give people a last chance to say goodbye. Two of our girls came up to be with this dear family during this time; our oldest daughter was tied up with our oldest grandson and couldn't join us, but made it a point to have us express her condolences.

We were committed to be at festival for a while - Teri first, with me joining her later - so after our girls left we also shared hugs and love with Jesse's family and friends, and I dropped Teri off at the parish and headed to the other hospital for another short visit with our grandson. On the way onto the floor a quartet of young men were on their way out, one of whom had a cast on his arm. I asked them on the way by if they'd been visiting with Michael, and the one with the cast indicated that he had been the driver who had caused the accident. He was clearly remorseful for what had happened, and I looked him straight in the eye and told him that I wanted him to know that I forgave him. He was very appreciative of those words. I then went into Michael's room, where he was surrounded by four more of his friends, another one of whom had been in the accident, too. They left after a short while, and I visited with my grandson for a brief time before having to head back to the festival. It turned out that I wasn't on the schedule as I'd thought, but I was much needed to haul soda and ice from the trucks to the booth. Sometime after I got there we received a text asking us to observe a moment of silence for Jesse at 4:44, which we did; we later learned that was when they were disconnecting him from life support. It was hard to believe I'd only been working for a half hour at that point, it had been such a busy time; it remained that way through the completion of our shift at 7. After starting the day with 3 miles of running and another two of walking, it made for a physically tiring day.

At that point, we got dinner - I had my annual cabbage roll - and headed to the house. I'd been scheduled to babysit the younger set of grandkids, but had received a text in the afternoon that they were going to dad's instead. I thought Teri might go visit Michael in the evening, but that didn't work out that way; she was just too tired for the drive, and I didn't feel up to taking her, either. We hung out quietly at home and called it a relatively early night.

more . . . 

Happy birthday to me

I saw this when she posted it on someone else's timeline over the weekend, so I expected she'd say the same to me: While you are celebrating your special day, be sure to celebrate you.

I don't think I'm quite there yet. I did manage to give myself the gift of a lubricated shave with a new blade this morning, though.

Not quite a week, but a long one (part 1)

It started with an element of confusion, with a text on Tuesday night that I wasn't expected to see until Wednesday morning. As a result, I thought that Jesse had collapsed on Monday night, and perhaps slightly underestimated how dire his situation was. After all, his grandpa would surely have communicated with us right away if it had been life-threatening. By Wednesday afternoon, I understood what had happened with the initial text, and we went to the hospital in the evening to see this young man who we still think of as the little boy who had spent so much time in our home.

If we hadn't understood already, we knew on seeing him that he was in the fight of his life, but were still hopeful that he might recover. His grandparents soon arrived back from out of town, and we stayed at the hospital several hours to be with them and with the rest of his family and their friends who were there.

On Thursday I didn't really interpret the family's reported signs of "improvement" in the same way that some of them did. I knew from experience that eye and body movement alone were not evidence that he was recovering. I agreed to stay with our grandchildren so that my wife could go visit the hospital again. She had been the one who'd spent so many hours providing child care for him and his sister when they were children; most of that time I was at work. Our youngest worked a double that day, so grandma had been watching kiddos all day. I figured it was best for me to give her a break, and the kids and I enjoyed some fun trampoline time together. I guess that might have been too soon after dinner, though, for our youngest grandson, who ended up being sick just before mom got there to pick them up after her shift. He was sick again during the night, but better the next day.

Friday was a scheduled off day for our youngest daughter, which ended up being a good thing when we got panicked phone calls from our oldest daughter in the afternoon indicating that her oldest son had been in a wreck. She sounded pretty hysterical, so I left work early to meet her at the hospital. All my friends already know the details, and I won't embarrass my grandson by sharing them here. But his injury was pretty serious, and his recovery will be a long road that will probably never return him to 100%, except by God's grace and healing power.

Friday night was also the beginning of the parish festival, and I had some Marriage Encounter brochures and schedules to drop off, so I left the hospital in time to make that happen. My bride had driven separately, so she hung out a while longer waiting for the results of the surgery. I don't remember the last time I wasn't able to attend Benediction at the start of festival, but I was able to drop off brochures in time and then, by the time Teri got there, had our registration forms for the next morning's 5k ready for our signatures. I then went home to let the dog relieve himself, and went back to the festival when Teri asked me to deliver a couple things she needed - decent shoes, socks, her arch support tape. It turned out that when I got there she decided she was ready to leave so we could visit with our grandson at the hospital, but at least I got to see the younger set of grandchildren there with their mom - her oldest of whom in particular was none too happy to have to listen to her instead of being able to run free.

We checked in with our oldest daughter on the way to the hospital; she was in the room when we parked, but left before we got upstairs. We didn't stay long, as it seemed as if our grandson was drifting off to sleep and we were pretty tired, too. We learned the next morning that, while his pain was being managed pretty well, he was still pretty much unable to sleep most of the night because of it.

Does being so guarded make me a bad husband?

Things that matter

It matters whether your kids get to school on time most of the time.
It matters whether they have food to eat.
It matters whether you lie about where you're going when we watch them.
It matters whether you're continually on your stupid phone when they're with you.
It matters whether they're embarrassed to have their friends come into their house.
It matters whether they think you're a monster.
It matters whether they want to go home.
It matters whether they think of it as home.

No, seriously

If you're just going to unilaterally decide that you have good enough reason to ignore the budget, then I'm going to stop doing it.

Two potential tragedies

I watch the young man struggling for life, tears seeping from his eyes, mouth being suctioned around the tubes entering his throat. I realize that I really don't know: is he struggling to live or struggling to die? Was the simple joy that I remember celebrating in him as a boy really just a harbinger of his addiction, by which he'd attempt in vain to cling to or recapture such fleeting moments rather than simply living his life?

This morning I drove past my parish, which is currently set up for our annual festival. The ride closest to the street is the kids' dragon-themed roller coaster. One year when he was really too big for it - and knew it - he and a friend forsook every other ride on the grounds for a couple hours to repeatedly ride in the last seat of this one, laughing hysterically on every circuit of the train around the tracks, rushing at the conclusion of each admission to get back into line and do it once more. They clearly knew it was silly for them to be having so much fun on a ride designed for smaller children, and clung determinedly to the simple joy that they were experiencing, somehow aware that such moments would soon be unrepeatable.

I'm not writing a eulogy. His story isn't over yet. He has two little girls who need a dad who can show them how to appreciate simple joy, and he needs to rediscover his capacity for it before he enters eternity.

But God knows what he and his loved ones need more than I do, and I trust Him to provide it for them according to his providential plan. His dad, who administered CPR to him when he collapsed Tuesday night (not Monday as I misunderstood based on the time stamp of his grandfather's text message) acknowledges even in the midst of this dark moment: in all things, give praise to God.

The other potential tragedy is my own grandson, who seems to be on the same path. I have no way of contacting him, but I long for him to see where his choices might lead him, that he might make different ones. Father, please lead him back to us, to You.

Prep for Sunday: First reading

And Moses took half of the blood and put it in basins, and half of the blood he threw against the altar. Then he took the book of the covenant, and read it in the hearing of the people; and they said, "All that the LORD has spoken we will do, and we will be obedient." And Moses took the blood and threw it upon the people, and said, "Behold the blood of the covenant which the LORD has made with you in accordance with all these words." - Ex 24:6-8

First impression: the NAB translation we'll hear on Sunday uses the verbs "splashed" (on the altar) and "sprinkled" (on the people) instead of the more general - and visceral - term "threw." This online interlinear translation uses "sprinkled" in both instances.

I've always related the blood of Jesus to that of the Passover lamb with which the Jewish people's doorways were marked in Egypt. This passage reminds us that there is so much more of the Hebrew salvation history that Jesus fulfills beyond just its best-known stories. It is not necessarily clear from the context that this reading is the first Day of Atonement, which the Jewish people still celebrate today as Yom Kippur. There is a great explanation in a Messianic context here. Jesus has fulfilled all need for sacrifice, and it is shortsighted to overlook this importance of his most precious Blood - even if blood sacrifice has always been a symbol intended for our benefit - on the feast of his Body and Blood.

(more later?)

Today's words

phreaker /FREE-ker/ - one who gains illegal access to the telephone system

I'm pretty sure I've seen this before, but couldn't associate the "ph" with the phone system when I tried to place it.

perseverate \per-SEV-uh-rayt\ - 1. to repeat or recur persistently  2. to go back over previously covered ground

I was pretty close on this recognizable word, but didn't quite have it accurately. I wouldn't have guessed that it was a back-formation from perseveration, though.

fictioneer \fik-shuh-NEER\ - someone who writes fiction especially in quantity and without high standards

This one was new, if obvious.

mingy \MIN-jy\ - 1. not liking to spend money  2. not large enough

Had no clue of this possible blend of mean and stingy.