A dear friend of the family has passed away in MD, and I am not going to be with my wife when she goes to help lay him to rest. I so wish I could be.
I will instead go that evening to the viewing for a former coworker who passed away last week, and will pray that God will use my presence here for his glory when my heart longs to be there.
Then, in two weeks, I will make an unaccompanied trip to MD for my cousin's memorial service and interment. I know that my bride will feel the same way about staying behind then that I do now, but she will be doing what we agree that she should, supporting a young high school graduate as she prepares to embark on her life's journey.
Tuesday, May 13, 2014
Chaos
One of the central themes of our family therapy program was learning to manage our home so as to minimize chaos. Of course we can't eliminate it totally; after all, life happens. But as an unhealthy family we tended to act in patterns that increased the level of chaos rather than resolving it. Making conscious decisions about what activities we were going to be participate in, rather than getting our lives over-committed on a regular basis, was an important aspect of our family's emotional health. Another was for each family member to learn what we were responsible for, and to take responsibility for our own areas and let go of things that were outside our own purview. Directly related to this was not allowing other family members to create unreasonable burdens for us.
I am grateful to live without the chaotic dynamic which was part of our family dysfunction and a contributor to our general unhealthiness.
I am grateful to live without the chaotic dynamic which was part of our family dysfunction and a contributor to our general unhealthiness.
Monday, May 12, 2014
Blog neglect, again
My lack of logging in all weekend was not due to a dearth of things to share or to reflect on, but because of a very busy weekend. But I now have a vegetable garden again after taking last year off, plus read some more of my book, spent several hours hanging out with my honey, gifted my bride for Mother's Day, rode my bike 32 miles, comforted my sweetie as well as I could on a death that hit really close to home, provided nice guitar-only accompaniment for a responsorial psalm I hadn't listened to before Saturday, cooked a nice dinner, and had a wonderful time with our in-town daughters and grandchildren.
Friday, May 09, 2014
On average, . . .
. . . (if I'm thinking correctly,) once in every hundred occurrences, the last two digits of a randomly generated (decimal) code will match the previous two digits.
This has now happened to me twice in a row.
No, I'm not going to buy a lottery ticket. I refuse to believe that one highly unlikely mathematical happenstance improves the immediate probability of another one.
This has now happened to me twice in a row.
No, I'm not going to buy a lottery ticket. I refuse to believe that one highly unlikely mathematical happenstance improves the immediate probability of another one.
Thursday, May 08, 2014
Today's word
cataract \KAT-uh-rakt\ - 1. a clouding of the lens of the eye or of its surrounding transparent membrane that obstructs the passage of light 2a. waterfall; especially : a large one over a precipice b. steep rapids in a river
c. downpour, flood
c. downpour, flood
I'm pretty sure I had heard the second definition before, but only rarely. Maybe only once.
Wednesday, May 07, 2014
A life without hope and self-respect
His dad and mine were drunk together at every family gathering when we were growing up. He was charming, and fun. But I had at least one advantage he didn't: my drunken dad was not my biological father, so I didn't inherit any genetic tendency to alcoholism.
I think he was lost already by the time he decided to embrace the "Flap" persona.
Beyond the genetics, who knows fully how his own choices played out in his life? What role did his unspeakable act in his youth, against someone who trusted him utterly, have in his subsequent inability to live with himself in the absence of self-medication? (No, it wasn't me. I learned of this only this century, and am leaving it vague out of respect for the privacy of someone I love dearly.) It's pretty easy to understand why he alone among his siblings stuck by his drunken father side in his parents' divorce; neither of them ever viewed the other's alcoholism as a problem. It's easy to understand why he chose his addiction - insofar as he was able to choose, or "why he couldn't help but choose" - over his wife and son.
And it is easy, in hindsight, to understand that he could not hope to face his life soberly.
I find myself praying for God's grace to reach him in eternity where Dave did not allow it to do so in time. Also, I am praying for all those who have loved him much more closely than I ever had a chance to. I mean, when I was a kid I probably looked up to him more than any of my cousins; he was the most popular and charismatic of them; I believe this "golden boy" status became a negative influence in his life. And he alone of my cousins came to support my mom (his godmother) when my sister died, though in hindsight I wonder how much of that was his mom's instigation and implementation. But it was back around the time - over a decade before - that he transitioned to Flap, that I became pretty disillusioned with what he was about, and pretty disappointed at how those around him, including my mom and uncle, embraced this image he seemed to be trying to create of himself. Still, they are not responsible for who Dave became or how his life turned out, by any means.
How deeply he hurt those who loved him: his mother, siblings, ex-wife, and son.
Eternal rest grant unto him, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon him. May he rest in peace. May any bonds that have entered other lives through his influence be broken and each person set free, and those who have loved him be comforted in their pain and loss.
I think he was lost already by the time he decided to embrace the "Flap" persona.
Beyond the genetics, who knows fully how his own choices played out in his life? What role did his unspeakable act in his youth, against someone who trusted him utterly, have in his subsequent inability to live with himself in the absence of self-medication? (No, it wasn't me. I learned of this only this century, and am leaving it vague out of respect for the privacy of someone I love dearly.) It's pretty easy to understand why he alone among his siblings stuck by his drunken father side in his parents' divorce; neither of them ever viewed the other's alcoholism as a problem. It's easy to understand why he chose his addiction - insofar as he was able to choose, or "why he couldn't help but choose" - over his wife and son.
And it is easy, in hindsight, to understand that he could not hope to face his life soberly.
I find myself praying for God's grace to reach him in eternity where Dave did not allow it to do so in time. Also, I am praying for all those who have loved him much more closely than I ever had a chance to. I mean, when I was a kid I probably looked up to him more than any of my cousins; he was the most popular and charismatic of them; I believe this "golden boy" status became a negative influence in his life. And he alone of my cousins came to support my mom (his godmother) when my sister died, though in hindsight I wonder how much of that was his mom's instigation and implementation. But it was back around the time - over a decade before - that he transitioned to Flap, that I became pretty disillusioned with what he was about, and pretty disappointed at how those around him, including my mom and uncle, embraced this image he seemed to be trying to create of himself. Still, they are not responsible for who Dave became or how his life turned out, by any means.
How deeply he hurt those who loved him: his mother, siblings, ex-wife, and son.
Eternal rest grant unto him, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon him. May he rest in peace. May any bonds that have entered other lives through his influence be broken and each person set free, and those who have loved him be comforted in their pain and loss.
Elusive hope
Sometimes . . . we can be torn between our compelling needs to grieve and to protect the feelings of the people we love.
Sometimes . . . the endearing, carefree mask a person wears hides a brokenness he can never escape.
Sometimes . . . recognizing the undeniable truth of his brokenness can feel as if we are making excuses for his dreadful choices, even though we intend no such thing.
Sometimes . . . someone we love and trust inexplicably hurts us or others we love, in ways that no one would dare deny us our right to wrap ourselves around in our determination to keep him from ever hurting us again.
Sometimes . . . the injury that a person inflicts on one we love utterly eclipses our respect and compassion for them.
Sometimes . . . the path of love and mercy is to forgive the unforgivable, not ever granting approval to those hurtful acts but choosing as often as we must to let go of the pain and to desire the best for him.
Sometimes . . . the equally undeniable truth that our clinging - our determined self- and other-protection - now serves only to keep us bound to our hurt can feel like just one more burden on our already sagging shoulders, the straw that will surely break our back.
Sometimes . . . our only hope is to ask God to do in us that to which we cannot aspire for ourselves, and thereby to set us free at last.
God, please grant grace - undeserved, unfathomable grace - to my late cousin's tormented soul, and peace to our own hearts.
Sometimes . . . the endearing, carefree mask a person wears hides a brokenness he can never escape.
Sometimes . . . recognizing the undeniable truth of his brokenness can feel as if we are making excuses for his dreadful choices, even though we intend no such thing.
Sometimes . . . someone we love and trust inexplicably hurts us or others we love, in ways that no one would dare deny us our right to wrap ourselves around in our determination to keep him from ever hurting us again.
Sometimes . . . the path of love and mercy is to forgive the unforgivable, not ever granting approval to those hurtful acts but choosing as often as we must to let go of the pain and to desire the best for him.
Sometimes . . . the equally undeniable truth that our clinging - our determined self- and other-protection - now serves only to keep us bound to our hurt can feel like just one more burden on our already sagging shoulders, the straw that will surely break our back.
Sometimes . . . our only hope is to ask God to do in us that to which we cannot aspire for ourselves, and thereby to set us free at last.
God, please grant grace - undeserved, unfathomable grace - to my late cousin's tormented soul, and peace to our own hearts.
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