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Scraps's avatar

I want to write a long comment, but now I can't, and by "can't" I mean it would take days to shape it well, when it used to shape itself almost. Writing came easily before my stroke, thirteen years ago.

I haven't believed in any god since I fell out with the Catholic god when I was thirteen. I'm not a hard atheist; I just don't have any connection with any god. It's probably good that I don't believe.

Here's the long comment, shrunk down to a paragraph or two: I found Velma, my heart & soul, at thirty-six, and I was blessed by happiness for eight years. Then my stroke hit, at forty-four. My life darkened, almost all of it, though Velma stayed, a bright spot that I carried with me through everything else. A broken brain affects everything.

Then Velma got cancer at fifty-two (I was fifty). From the diagnosis to her death was only five weeks. My second plane crash. (It feels numb and stupid that I call it "my", when Velma is dead. There's that guilt, if I want to accept that. I could pass the guilt on to god, but I don't believe [unfortunately?].)

My parents (still alive & married at 79, bless them) are believing, church-going Catholics, with five children. I'm the second (first boy). My older sister, Kristen, married a wonderful guy, also named Chris; I can't think of anything negative to say about him, and several luminous positive; cheerful, quietly funny, very much in love with Kristen. He died of cancer, the slow but inevitable kind, in his late forties three years ago.

Of course Kristen was devastated at Chris's death. She is deeply religious, to the point where she teaches religion at Catholic schools. She must get some cushion at his death from her beliefs. If I had any lingering beliefs, it would be taken up with anger.

And my parents: Kris & Scraps, their first two children, both had wonderful lovers & partners, that they knew they were with them for life -- cut off young, in the same cruel way. I don't ask Mom & Dad, or Kris, what they say to god. My god isn't there.

The bluebirds and your family's reaction affected me strongly. Thank you. Thank you for listening.

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M. Trosino's avatar

In your last post you referred to yourself as a "lukewarm Christian" as you hurled a nicely modified ( and by my lights well deserved ) F-bomb at the think tank economists on cable news. Well, there ain't nuthin' lukewarm about what you did here. Not the writing, not the thoughts behind the writing. Or the heart. It was boiling over with good.

So, turn down the tea kettle, brother. Must be pretty warm in your "fighting hole" about now. Have a splash of Kentucky Sunshine and cool off a bit. You deserve it. And thanks for a great piece.

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