O Momma ... this morning I saw a little white puppy in the back yard next door.
It was bouncing and scampering and running this way and that.
You would love it.
I don't know if this is a visitor ... perhaps belongs to houseguests ... or would this be a new addition to the family next door.
I can hope (perhaps) the latter.
O Momma how I miss you
O Momma
O Lord
Charles Delacroix
Sunday in the Octave of Easter
Divine Mercy Sunday
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Deracination and Integrity and Divine Mercy
Run, Fatboy, Run (2008) http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0425413/ opened here on Friday; and I saw it yesterday (Saturday). I frankly hadn't planned to see it ... I went to the theater intending to see one movie, and discovering that I was way off on the showtime, saw this movie instead.
I was very, very pleasantly surprised. The movie has a lot of humor and a lot of heart that go together in strangely satisfying ways ... or for me they do. I like David Schwimmer's work and his brand of humor.
At one level that is.
But at another level ... I think the movie hit me very, very hard in an area that I'm very, very sensitive to: deracination.
The movie is a postmodern work of art, that manages to give us the best that postmodernism can give us in the genre at hand ... but is even so severely limited by its rootlessness, its disconnection from almost anything beyond itself, its distance from anything foundational or meaningful beyond (again) sort of shreds of what was taken for meaningfulness only a generation ago.
And let's give the flick some credit: it's basically a comedy, so probably it wouldn't be very fair to tax it with not having things in it that aren't really appropriate to the genre.
But I'm blogging not about this movie but about Charles in the Here and Now by God's Grace ... and I really felt very deeply two things: (1) I really like this movie; and (2) this movie is generally devoid of rootedness and meaningfulness. So ... what's that say about me?
This: I'm postmodern myself by setz im Leben and by temperament in many ways. I'm deracinated, rootless, detached from meaning and history ... except, to be sure, through the Church, through Christ.
Contrast Mom's generation. They had roots, had generational cues, had historical rootedness and traditions. I got this really strong sense of this last night watching OETA ... which showed, in it's 2nd show, That's Entertainment Part II (1976) http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0075323/ ... just utterly delightful ... and oh Momma how I wish we could sit and watch this together and talk about it ... and thank God we did get a chance to watch it on OETA and talk about it last year or the year before at the last showing. But I digress. The point for me is that it suddenly hit me that much of what I am mourning in your passing, Momma, is not only the loss of you ... oh Momma nothing can make this anything but utter catastrophic disaster ... yet in addition I'm mourning the loss of what I never had, the sense of rootedness and purpose and common vision that was so eminently present for your generation. I still think about Atonement for the same reason ... really it's about your generation, dear Momma ... and the passing of something that we all, all have lost with the passing of your dear generation.
But the sheer absence of what was once and which I never had is for me a very, very great loss. Not as great a loss of what was once and which I had when you were here and now dear Momma. But a very great loss. And bound up perhaps inextricably with your loss Momma.
I think ... very respectfully, and very much under correction, Momma ... I think that even your generation had at its heart its own fatality ... even in marvels like That's Entertainment, and American in Paris, (1951) http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0043278/ ... there's already a loss of mooring that later became the deracination of my own generation.
You see it in everything really ... how your generation approached everything ... very goal-directed, as a matter of getting from A to B. A sense that location and family and vocation are very malleable: hence your own migration away from Hornersville; hence your own desire to be buried here in Tulsa rather than Honrersville; hence chances of job and vocation and venue and even family that earlier generations ... even those not too far beyond your own ... would have regarded with a greater sense of stabilitas and gravitas. Your generation, Momma, was Modern: and the Modern preceded the Postmodern.
I remember years ago finding this pressed increasingly on my own understanding of everything. But plain had forgotten. It explains so much. My constant and lifelong hunger and thirst for Justice and Truth rather than a Good Job.
And after a ruff ruff night I realized this morning that in all fairness a big, big part of my sense of loss had to do with my 20th Century loss of Place and Roots rather than my 2007 loss of my dearest dearest Momma.
O Momma how I do miss you
And O Momma how I do miss having a Here-and-Now history.
Love in Christ,
Charles Delacroix
Sunday in the Octave of Easter
Divine Mercy Sunday
I was very, very pleasantly surprised. The movie has a lot of humor and a lot of heart that go together in strangely satisfying ways ... or for me they do. I like David Schwimmer's work and his brand of humor.
At one level that is.
But at another level ... I think the movie hit me very, very hard in an area that I'm very, very sensitive to: deracination.
The movie is a postmodern work of art, that manages to give us the best that postmodernism can give us in the genre at hand ... but is even so severely limited by its rootlessness, its disconnection from almost anything beyond itself, its distance from anything foundational or meaningful beyond (again) sort of shreds of what was taken for meaningfulness only a generation ago.
And let's give the flick some credit: it's basically a comedy, so probably it wouldn't be very fair to tax it with not having things in it that aren't really appropriate to the genre.
But I'm blogging not about this movie but about Charles in the Here and Now by God's Grace ... and I really felt very deeply two things: (1) I really like this movie; and (2) this movie is generally devoid of rootedness and meaningfulness. So ... what's that say about me?
This: I'm postmodern myself by setz im Leben and by temperament in many ways. I'm deracinated, rootless, detached from meaning and history ... except, to be sure, through the Church, through Christ.
Contrast Mom's generation. They had roots, had generational cues, had historical rootedness and traditions. I got this really strong sense of this last night watching OETA ... which showed, in it's 2nd show, That's Entertainment Part II (1976) http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0075323/ ... just utterly delightful ... and oh Momma how I wish we could sit and watch this together and talk about it ... and thank God we did get a chance to watch it on OETA and talk about it last year or the year before at the last showing. But I digress. The point for me is that it suddenly hit me that much of what I am mourning in your passing, Momma, is not only the loss of you ... oh Momma nothing can make this anything but utter catastrophic disaster ... yet in addition I'm mourning the loss of what I never had, the sense of rootedness and purpose and common vision that was so eminently present for your generation. I still think about Atonement for the same reason ... really it's about your generation, dear Momma ... and the passing of something that we all, all have lost with the passing of your dear generation.
But the sheer absence of what was once and which I never had is for me a very, very great loss. Not as great a loss of what was once and which I had when you were here and now dear Momma. But a very great loss. And bound up perhaps inextricably with your loss Momma.
I think ... very respectfully, and very much under correction, Momma ... I think that even your generation had at its heart its own fatality ... even in marvels like That's Entertainment, and American in Paris, (1951) http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0043278/ ... there's already a loss of mooring that later became the deracination of my own generation.
You see it in everything really ... how your generation approached everything ... very goal-directed, as a matter of getting from A to B. A sense that location and family and vocation are very malleable: hence your own migration away from Hornersville; hence your own desire to be buried here in Tulsa rather than Honrersville; hence chances of job and vocation and venue and even family that earlier generations ... even those not too far beyond your own ... would have regarded with a greater sense of stabilitas and gravitas. Your generation, Momma, was Modern: and the Modern preceded the Postmodern.
I remember years ago finding this pressed increasingly on my own understanding of everything. But plain had forgotten. It explains so much. My constant and lifelong hunger and thirst for Justice and Truth rather than a Good Job.
And after a ruff ruff night I realized this morning that in all fairness a big, big part of my sense of loss had to do with my 20th Century loss of Place and Roots rather than my 2007 loss of my dearest dearest Momma.
O Momma how I do miss you
And O Momma how I do miss having a Here-and-Now history.
Love in Christ,
Charles Delacroix
Sunday in the Octave of Easter
Divine Mercy Sunday
Saturday, March 29, 2008
Mom's Tables and Chairs
OK ... may seem like a small thing ... but it's done. Tables are swapped out.
Some things change though. I had forgotten ... that we (I) had mounted pictures and other things on the wall above Momma's little table ... including two pictures of her grandchildren. How she adored them. Those pictures are staying exactly where she wanted them, by God. But that means that the tall backed kitchen table chair that was previously behind the dining room table can't go there now. OK. So it'll have to stay out in the garage for now. Problem solved.
Still things look ... I don't know ... different certainly ... but whether better or worse who can say ...
I think on the whole though it feels better looking over at Mom's dining room table & chairs from here on the couch where I'm typing though. Oh they're somewhat old and worn but also ... it looks something like how things were when Mom was here before she was in her wheelchair ... back when she could walk easily back and forth to the kitchen past the table and she could pull out a chair and sit at the table with ease.
Oh Momma ... oh God how I miss you Momma ...
I had to wonder about the table and chairs though ... they really weren't heirlooms or anything like that. She bought them when ... in Nashville? Knoxville?
Because of this ... the numbers on the back of the table are:
5290-95-33
558-559-R-73
I tried Googling these and came up with too many hits ... I expected none ... might try again with a better search engine. Anyway, my guess is that either the manufacture date is 1995 or 1973. If 1973, then that would be about the time she moved to Nashville.
Oh my. Does it matter? Yes. That's what seems so overwhelming since you left Momma. Everything matters. Everything matters. No matter how small ... it matters.
I love you Momma
I love you Jesus
Thank you Momma
Thank you Jesus for my Momma
Thank you so much
Some things change though. I had forgotten ... that we (I) had mounted pictures and other things on the wall above Momma's little table ... including two pictures of her grandchildren. How she adored them. Those pictures are staying exactly where she wanted them, by God. But that means that the tall backed kitchen table chair that was previously behind the dining room table can't go there now. OK. So it'll have to stay out in the garage for now. Problem solved.
Still things look ... I don't know ... different certainly ... but whether better or worse who can say ...
I think on the whole though it feels better looking over at Mom's dining room table & chairs from here on the couch where I'm typing though. Oh they're somewhat old and worn but also ... it looks something like how things were when Mom was here before she was in her wheelchair ... back when she could walk easily back and forth to the kitchen past the table and she could pull out a chair and sit at the table with ease.
Oh Momma ... oh God how I miss you Momma ...
I had to wonder about the table and chairs though ... they really weren't heirlooms or anything like that. She bought them when ... in Nashville? Knoxville?
Because of this ... the numbers on the back of the table are:
5290-95-33
558-559-R-73
I tried Googling these and came up with too many hits ... I expected none ... might try again with a better search engine. Anyway, my guess is that either the manufacture date is 1995 or 1973. If 1973, then that would be about the time she moved to Nashville.
Oh my. Does it matter? Yes. That's what seems so overwhelming since you left Momma. Everything matters. Everything matters. No matter how small ... it matters.
I love you Momma
I love you Jesus
Thank you Momma
Thank you Jesus for my Momma
Thank you so much
Integrity ... and Momma's little table ... and her dining room table
OK ... God I've been thinking and praying about this for so long ... now ... now I'm going to try to do it ...
I know Momma you would have wanted me to do it long ago ...
But Momma first I want to say Good Bye ... or Fare Well ... to the little table we had set up for you in the dining room / alcove. Just a little thing ... a little corner side table really ... but it fit for you in your wheelchair when the dining room table was just way too high off the floor, and too big for your wheelchair to get around easily.
It served and served well
And I can use it at the office ... clients can set things on it ... and I know you would want it to be useful ... it's a good side table and was our good table for our little meals together. It will always be dear to me Momma.
Your dining room table too, though rough for wear, is dear to me as to you. And it will serve better some work especially I need to do very soon.
Oh God this hurts though. To change anything seems so wrong. But I know it needs to happen.
Just for Today
Here and Now
God have Mercy
Oh God it all hurts so much
Momma I miss you so so so so so so so so so so much
O Jesus
Please please please take good care of my good Momma
I love you Momma
I love you Jesus
I love you
Thank you
Grant me Lord a little Integrity for Momma's tables with love and dignity for they were hers.
I love you
I know Momma you would have wanted me to do it long ago ...
But Momma first I want to say Good Bye ... or Fare Well ... to the little table we had set up for you in the dining room / alcove. Just a little thing ... a little corner side table really ... but it fit for you in your wheelchair when the dining room table was just way too high off the floor, and too big for your wheelchair to get around easily.
It served and served well
And I can use it at the office ... clients can set things on it ... and I know you would want it to be useful ... it's a good side table and was our good table for our little meals together. It will always be dear to me Momma.
Your dining room table too, though rough for wear, is dear to me as to you. And it will serve better some work especially I need to do very soon.
Oh God this hurts though. To change anything seems so wrong. But I know it needs to happen.
Just for Today
Here and Now
God have Mercy
Oh God it all hurts so much
Momma I miss you so so so so so so so so so so much
O Jesus
Please please please take good care of my good Momma
I love you Momma
I love you Jesus
I love you
Thank you
Grant me Lord a little Integrity for Momma's tables with love and dignity for they were hers.
I love you
Rejoice in so far as you share in Christ's Sufferings
That's what You had me read at Momma's Grave this morning, O Lord, in OOR.
Universalis uses a slightly different translation: If you can have some share in the sufferings of Christ, be glad... http://www.universalis.com/20080329/readings.htm
Yes ... yes indeed ...
And why not ...
Sometimes I forget how very very meaningful things like this were to me, O Lord, before ... even long before ... Momma passed away.
Pain and suffering even for Charles in my Here-and-Now didn't start with Momma's death or with Momma's sufferings.
But now ... now it is true ... it is all focused and drawn to a point in Momma's sufferings ...
And again why not ...
Momma you were my Momma as Eve was all of our Mother
Mother of all the living
In Adam and Eve all were and all are
Even as in the New Adam and New Eve are are and all will be
So Authenticity and Integrity in my very, very, very narrow Goal ... to respond to this Catastrophic Event of Momma's Death with some sense of Integrity ... isn't such a narrow Goal after all it seems ...
Her suffering partook of Yours O Lord
So does mine and all of the living and of the dead
O Lord
I miss Momma so much
Momma how I miss you
Thank You O Lord
Thank You Momma
Thank You even for the Grace O Lord of being allowed a bit of her suffering
And a bit of Yours
O Lord I love you
Thank You
Charles Delacroix
Saturday within the Octave of Easter
Eve of Divine Mercy Sunday
Universalis uses a slightly different translation: If you can have some share in the sufferings of Christ, be glad... http://www.universalis.com/20080329/readings.htm
Yes ... yes indeed ...
And why not ...
Sometimes I forget how very very meaningful things like this were to me, O Lord, before ... even long before ... Momma passed away.
Pain and suffering even for Charles in my Here-and-Now didn't start with Momma's death or with Momma's sufferings.
But now ... now it is true ... it is all focused and drawn to a point in Momma's sufferings ...
And again why not ...
Momma you were my Momma as Eve was all of our Mother
Mother of all the living
In Adam and Eve all were and all are
Even as in the New Adam and New Eve are are and all will be
So Authenticity and Integrity in my very, very, very narrow Goal ... to respond to this Catastrophic Event of Momma's Death with some sense of Integrity ... isn't such a narrow Goal after all it seems ...
Her suffering partook of Yours O Lord
So does mine and all of the living and of the dead
O Lord
I miss Momma so much
Momma how I miss you
Thank You O Lord
Thank You Momma
Thank You even for the Grace O Lord of being allowed a bit of her suffering
And a bit of Yours
O Lord I love you
Thank You
Charles Delacroix
Saturday within the Octave of Easter
Eve of Divine Mercy Sunday
Here we have no lasting place
I was just looking out the back door ... listening to the birds chirping. The grass is going to need mowing ... needs mowing now. The first mowing of the spring. And O Momma how we would have laughed and talked about that ... about which of us men on the street was going to be the first to get out and finally mow the grass for the first time ... :-) ...
We had talked about planting flowers ... and some vines for the west fence ... o God O Momma why aren't you here to talk about this now ... to plan and watch me put them out ... and smile and say how nice they looked ... O Momma ...
O Lord, I have no idea how You put up with my ranting and moping ... but O Thank You O Lord ...
O Momma I miss you so much
We had talked about planting flowers ... and some vines for the west fence ... o God O Momma why aren't you here to talk about this now ... to plan and watch me put them out ... and smile and say how nice they looked ... O Momma ...
O Lord, I have no idea how You put up with my ranting and moping ... but O Thank You O Lord ...
O Momma I miss you so much
Anniversaries ... and Integrity
I was about to go to sleep last night and suddenly remembered that I've been running ramshackle through more anniversaries ...
March 22 was 7 months since you passed away, Momma.
March 27 was 7 months since your funeral.
And the spring that's springing ... is of course the first spring without you in this Here-and-Now.
Which is of course ... wrong so wrong so utterly utterly wrong ...
But You O Lord You Alone can make it right ...
You Alone can make straight the highways ...
You Alone can fill up the valleys and level the mountains ...
In the Here-and-Now of Charles's little world though ... the terrain stays pretty damn rough
And Integrity and Grace in the Here-and-Now mean remembering that Your Way of the Cross passes right through exactly this terrain of this rough old world
Yet You Are Risen, Alleluia, Alleluia.
You Alone matter O Lord
You Alone
Thank You for my Momma Lord
Thank You for You
Thank You for this rough old world
Thank You for this rough old Here-and-Now
Thank You
Charles Delacroix
Saturday in the Octave of Easter
Eve of Divine Mercy Sunday
March 22 was 7 months since you passed away, Momma.
March 27 was 7 months since your funeral.
And the spring that's springing ... is of course the first spring without you in this Here-and-Now.
Which is of course ... wrong so wrong so utterly utterly wrong ...
But You O Lord You Alone can make it right ...
You Alone can make straight the highways ...
You Alone can fill up the valleys and level the mountains ...
In the Here-and-Now of Charles's little world though ... the terrain stays pretty damn rough
And Integrity and Grace in the Here-and-Now mean remembering that Your Way of the Cross passes right through exactly this terrain of this rough old world
Yet You Are Risen, Alleluia, Alleluia.
You Alone matter O Lord
You Alone
Thank You for my Momma Lord
Thank You for You
Thank You for this rough old world
Thank You for this rough old Here-and-Now
Thank You
Charles Delacroix
Saturday in the Octave of Easter
Eve of Divine Mercy Sunday
Friday, March 28, 2008
Just Desserts ... and Integrity
Cor. My lord, I will vse them according to their deserts.
Ham. O farre better man, vse euery man after his deserts,
Then who should scape whipping? Hamlet Act 2, Scene 2.
I think for me it's important to remember this. Authenticity and Integrity doesn't mean being perfect, doesn't mean "making it", doesn't mean succeeding, at anything ...
The Goal is to Respond to this Catastrophe with as much Integrity as I can.
That'll suffice.
You'll have to make up the difference O Lord
Not that my bit is more than a bit
That doesn't matter
I just need to Follow Your Call as best as I can with my little bit
That is Integrity
That is Authenticity
Charles Delacroix
Easter Friday
Ham. O farre better man, vse euery man after his deserts,
Then who should scape whipping? Hamlet Act 2, Scene 2.
I think for me it's important to remember this. Authenticity and Integrity doesn't mean being perfect, doesn't mean "making it", doesn't mean succeeding, at anything ...
The Goal is to Respond to this Catastrophe with as much Integrity as I can.
That'll suffice.
You'll have to make up the difference O Lord
Not that my bit is more than a bit
That doesn't matter
I just need to Follow Your Call as best as I can with my little bit
That is Integrity
That is Authenticity
Charles Delacroix
Easter Friday
Authenticity and Integrity
O Lord, O Momma, I felt better after visiting you, Momma, at the graveyard.
You gave me to remember my purpose O Lord
In Authenticity, in Integrity simply to respond to this Catastrophe with as much Integrity as possible.
Just as in Cloverfield
Just as in Atonement
Tha's it
That'll keep me plenty busy
And keep me with something to do
That's it.
If I just keep focus on that
That'll at least give me some measure of peace in the midst of all this pain
That's it
O Lord thank you
O Momma thank you
thank you all
You gave me to remember my purpose O Lord
In Authenticity, in Integrity simply to respond to this Catastrophe with as much Integrity as possible.
Just as in Cloverfield
Just as in Atonement
Tha's it
That'll keep me plenty busy
And keep me with something to do
That's it.
If I just keep focus on that
That'll at least give me some measure of peace in the midst of all this pain
That's it
O Lord thank you
O Momma thank you
thank you all
God it hurts so much
God I'm just gasping and crying and can't help thinking about you Momma ... spring here ... cool but oh the Redbuds are beautiful. So are the orange blossoms next door. And those little, little shy flowers we used to talk about ... they're everywhere now.
I just ... don't understand ...
O God
It hurts it hurts it hurts
O God
O Momma
O God
Well
I'm off to visit you and pray Vespers Momma ... then ... if there's light ... I'm going to get Spooky ... and we're going to visit ... oh the Rollers and S Pittsburgh and N Urbana ... your old places Momma ... and mine ...
Oh God I miss you so
OH God I do thank you for Momma
And I do by Your Grace accept that this is the way it has to be but O
I do miss you so Momma
O God
I love you MOmma
I love you Lord Jesus
I love you
Charles Delacroix
EAster Friday
I just ... don't understand ...
O God
It hurts it hurts it hurts
O God
O Momma
O God
Well
I'm off to visit you and pray Vespers Momma ... then ... if there's light ... I'm going to get Spooky ... and we're going to visit ... oh the Rollers and S Pittsburgh and N Urbana ... your old places Momma ... and mine ...
Oh God I miss you so
OH God I do thank you for Momma
And I do by Your Grace accept that this is the way it has to be but O
I do miss you so Momma
O God
I love you MOmma
I love you Lord Jesus
I love you
Charles Delacroix
EAster Friday
Easter Friday
Mixed day yesterday ... ups and downs ...
That stay in ICU did give me a bit of a scare.
And more than anything else though that enormous feeling of gratitude. I still feel it. I feel a deep, deep poignant pain in my inside ... longing ... for Momma ... missing Momma ... but most of all thankful for Momma ... for everything ...
For some unfathomable reason God's allowing me to wander around a bit longer on this old planet. Why?
Why ask why? He's Good and He has His reasons.
I took it easy all day yesterday ... went with the dog to visit Mom's grave, then visited an art gallery here, and then just drove and enjoyed the spring weather. We have Bradford pears in bloom and redbuds and Easter flowers and phlox and pansies and the freshest green grass imaginable. The orange tree next door has been sowing orange blossoms all over our yard and driveway.
Oh Momma how you would love these orange petals ... oh and the smell ... heaven on earth ...
What is there to say but Thanks.
Thank you God ... Just for Today.
Thank you Momma ... for bringing me all my todays
Thank you all so much.
I love you and I miss you Momma
Thank you
Charles Delacroix
Easter Friday
That stay in ICU did give me a bit of a scare.
And more than anything else though that enormous feeling of gratitude. I still feel it. I feel a deep, deep poignant pain in my inside ... longing ... for Momma ... missing Momma ... but most of all thankful for Momma ... for everything ...
For some unfathomable reason God's allowing me to wander around a bit longer on this old planet. Why?
Why ask why? He's Good and He has His reasons.
I took it easy all day yesterday ... went with the dog to visit Mom's grave, then visited an art gallery here, and then just drove and enjoyed the spring weather. We have Bradford pears in bloom and redbuds and Easter flowers and phlox and pansies and the freshest green grass imaginable. The orange tree next door has been sowing orange blossoms all over our yard and driveway.
Oh Momma how you would love these orange petals ... oh and the smell ... heaven on earth ...
What is there to say but Thanks.
Thank you God ... Just for Today.
Thank you Momma ... for bringing me all my todays
Thank you all so much.
I love you and I miss you Momma
Thank you
Charles Delacroix
Easter Friday
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Gratitude ... and Redbuds ... and Momma's Dog
Oh God
I just got home from the hospital after a mini-ordeal that started Holy Saturday ...
I had gotten a call from Cousin Charlotte that their mom (my aunt; my Mom's sister) was very sick ... diarrhea & vomiting. Charlotte had been taking care of her with love and prudence and industry and this despite her own kids' needs at home ... they had, thankfully, been able to go to an Easter Egg Hunt ... and I agreed to stay the night at Aunt Edna's with Cousin Rosanna.
Aunt Edna was feeling so much better though ... but on Easter morning, Rosanna announced that she had talked with Charlotte's husband, and she had gotten ill, apparently with the "same bug."
Aunt Edna continued to improve, though, and I left her and Rosanna sometime early Easter afternoon.
Alas I found myself feeling gradually worse and worse ... and by Sunday night found myself severely ill with the same "bug."
By the next morning, Easter Morning, I tried going to work; threw up at work; came home; and struggled during the day. That evening Rosanna called: Aunt Edna had become sick again. I went over and after talking it over, things seemed to going as well as could be expected for the moment, so I went back home ... to a rough night ...
I called in sick on Easter Tuesday, struggled, and late that night/early Easter Wed morning finally went to the ER at Claremore Indian Hospital ... "my hospital."
I had never been to the ER but they were wonderful. They quickly determined that I was dehydrated, my "acid/base" balance was severely out of balance (acidosis), and my diabetes was out of control (BG over 530). I was placed in ICU and stabilized and, as I say, was just discharged.
But here's the thing. This was really one of those rare times that I've experienced when the net result seemed to be enormous, enormous Gratitude for life just as it is.
Just as it is. Just as God sends it. Just as we get it. Just for today.
I mean here I am ... allowed by God, for whatever reason He might have, to walk the face of this old world for one more day.
And what a world. OK there 's lots & lots & LOTS of things wrong.
But I walked out of the hospital into a beautiful spring day full of flowering Bradford pears and redbuds and sunshine and fresh buds everywhere.
Oh Momma this is your kind of day.
And my kind of day.
What a day.
Oh my.
I'm not to return to work till Monday 3/31. Take it easy in the meantime.
OK. So I fed the dog just now ... what a gift is Momma's dog.
And ... we're going to go visit Momma in a few minutes.
I think I'll take my camera.
Oh Momma the redbuds ... your favorite flowering tree ... they are so lovely.
What a lovely day
I a lovely life
What a gift from You O God
Just for Today
Thank you .. THANK YOU O Lord.
Just for Today
Charles Delacroix
Easter Thursday
I just got home from the hospital after a mini-ordeal that started Holy Saturday ...
I had gotten a call from Cousin Charlotte that their mom (my aunt; my Mom's sister) was very sick ... diarrhea & vomiting. Charlotte had been taking care of her with love and prudence and industry and this despite her own kids' needs at home ... they had, thankfully, been able to go to an Easter Egg Hunt ... and I agreed to stay the night at Aunt Edna's with Cousin Rosanna.
Aunt Edna was feeling so much better though ... but on Easter morning, Rosanna announced that she had talked with Charlotte's husband, and she had gotten ill, apparently with the "same bug."
Aunt Edna continued to improve, though, and I left her and Rosanna sometime early Easter afternoon.
Alas I found myself feeling gradually worse and worse ... and by Sunday night found myself severely ill with the same "bug."
By the next morning, Easter Morning, I tried going to work; threw up at work; came home; and struggled during the day. That evening Rosanna called: Aunt Edna had become sick again. I went over and after talking it over, things seemed to going as well as could be expected for the moment, so I went back home ... to a rough night ...
I called in sick on Easter Tuesday, struggled, and late that night/early Easter Wed morning finally went to the ER at Claremore Indian Hospital ... "my hospital."
I had never been to the ER but they were wonderful. They quickly determined that I was dehydrated, my "acid/base" balance was severely out of balance (acidosis), and my diabetes was out of control (BG over 530). I was placed in ICU and stabilized and, as I say, was just discharged.
But here's the thing. This was really one of those rare times that I've experienced when the net result seemed to be enormous, enormous Gratitude for life just as it is.
Just as it is. Just as God sends it. Just as we get it. Just for today.
I mean here I am ... allowed by God, for whatever reason He might have, to walk the face of this old world for one more day.
And what a world. OK there 's lots & lots & LOTS of things wrong.
But I walked out of the hospital into a beautiful spring day full of flowering Bradford pears and redbuds and sunshine and fresh buds everywhere.
Oh Momma this is your kind of day.
And my kind of day.
What a day.
Oh my.
I'm not to return to work till Monday 3/31. Take it easy in the meantime.
OK. So I fed the dog just now ... what a gift is Momma's dog.
And ... we're going to go visit Momma in a few minutes.
I think I'll take my camera.
Oh Momma the redbuds ... your favorite flowering tree ... they are so lovely.
What a lovely day
I a lovely life
What a gift from You O God
Just for Today
Thank you .. THANK YOU O Lord.
Just for Today
Charles Delacroix
Easter Thursday
Saturday, March 22, 2008
And the Return of the Cotton-Tailed Bunny
This morning I looked out the back window ... and saw a brown, cotton-tailed rabbit sitting in the northwest quadrant of the back yard.
My jaw dropped ... it's been so long since I've seen one of our favorite yard-guests, Momma ... you would have loved to see this rabbit and we both would have smiled and laughed and wondered where he's been, and you'd probably say that he should at least come by every now and then and check in with us and let us know he's OK, and I would smile and laugh and firmly agree with you.
I grabbed the camera and took some shots through the back door glass ... and then snuck around through the garage, Spooky excitedly jumping up & down around me, and I found a place where I was able to get a couple of good snapshots from the west side of the patio.
Oh Momma ... I thought this is really a gift ... and a sign ... on this Holy Saturday ...
Did you send him? Or did you ask Jesus to send him?
Either way ... or any way ... thank you, Momma ... and thank you, Jesus ...
Love now and always,
Charles Delacroix
Holy Saturday
My jaw dropped ... it's been so long since I've seen one of our favorite yard-guests, Momma ... you would have loved to see this rabbit and we both would have smiled and laughed and wondered where he's been, and you'd probably say that he should at least come by every now and then and check in with us and let us know he's OK, and I would smile and laugh and firmly agree with you.
I grabbed the camera and took some shots through the back door glass ... and then snuck around through the garage, Spooky excitedly jumping up & down around me, and I found a place where I was able to get a couple of good snapshots from the west side of the patio.
Oh Momma ... I thought this is really a gift ... and a sign ... on this Holy Saturday ...
Did you send him? Or did you ask Jesus to send him?
Either way ... or any way ... thank you, Momma ... and thank you, Jesus ...
Love now and always,
Charles Delacroix
Holy Saturday
Holy Saturday
The Divine Office, Matins, 2nd Reading for Holy Saturday, http://www.universalis.com/20080322/readings.htm
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
From an ancient homily for Holy Saturday
The Lord's descent into the underworld
Something strange is happening – there is a great silence on earth today, a great silence and stillness. The whole earth keeps silence because the King is asleep. The earth trembled and is still because God has fallen asleep in the flesh and he has raised up all who have slept ever since the world began. God has died in the flesh and hell trembles with fear.
He has gone to search for our first parent, as for a lost sheep. Greatly desiring to visit those who live in darkness and in the shadow of death, he has gone to free from sorrow the captives Adam and Eve, he who is both God and the son of Eve. The Lord approached them bearing the cross, the weapon that had won him the victory. At the sight of him Adam, the first man he had created, struck his breast in terror and cried out to everyone: “My Lord be with you all”. Christ answered him: “And with your spirit”. He took him by the hand and raised him up, saying: “Awake, O sleeper, and rise from the dead, and Christ will give you light”.
I am your God, who for your sake have become your son. Out of love for you and for your descendants I now by my own authority command all who are held in bondage to come forth, all who are in darkness to be enlightened, all who are sleeping to arise. I order you, O sleeper, to awake. I did not create you to be held a prisoner in hell. Rise from the dead, for I am the life of the dead. Rise up, work of my hands, you who were created in my image. Rise, let us leave this place, for you are in me and I am in you; together we form only one person and we cannot be separated. For your sake I, your God, became your son; I, the Lord, took the form of a slave; I, whose home is above the heavens, descended to the earth and beneath the earth. For your sake, for the sake of man, I became like a man without help, free among the dead. For the sake of you, who left a garden, I was betrayed to the Jews in a garden, and I was crucified in a garden.
See on my face the spittle I received in order to restore to you the life I once breathed into you. See there the marks of the blows I received in order to refashion your warped nature in my image. On my back see the marks of the scourging I endured to remove the burden of sin that weighs upon your back. See my hands, nailed firmly to a tree, for you who once wickedly stretched out your hand to a tree.I slept on the cross and a sword pierced my side for you who slept in paradise and brought forth Eve from your side. My side has healed the pain in yours. My sleep will rouse you from your sleep in hell. The sword that pierced me has sheathed the sword that was turned against you.
Rise, let us leave this place. The enemy led you out of the earthly paradise. I will not restore you to that paradise, but I will enthrone you in heaven. I forbade you the tree that was only a symbol of life, but see, I who am life itself am now one with you. I appointed cherubim to guard you as slaves are guarded, but now I make them worship you as God. The throne formed by cherubim awaits you, its bearers swift and eager. The bridal chamber is adorned, the banquet is ready, the eternal dwelling places are prepared, the treasure houses of all good things lie open. The kingdom of heaven has been prepared for you from all eternity.
Concluding Prayer
Almighty and ever-living God,
your only-begotten Son descended into the underworld,
from which he rose into glory.In your kindness, grant that your faithful people,
who in their baptism shared his burial,
may advance to eternal life by sharing in his resurrection.
He lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
God for ever and ever.
Amen.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Amen, Amen, Amen
O Lord on this Holy Saturday
From which flows all our yesterdays and todays and tomorrows
All Holy Saturdays
All Buried with You in the Tomb
Waiting
Waiting in Silence
Waiting in Faith, Hope, and Love
Waiting
Longing and Waiting
Wondering and Waiting
Desiring and Waiting
Aching and Waiting
Loving and Waiting
Waiting
Waiting in the Tomb
Waiting in our lifelong Holy Saturday
Waiting
Waiting in the Tomb with the Dead Jesus
Waiting in the Tomb in the Dead Heart of Jesus
Waiting
Waiting
Waiting for the Dawn of the Resurrection of the Sacred Heart of Jesus
Waiting here in the Dead Heart of Jesus
Waiting
Waiting and Longing for You Lord Jesus
Waiting and Longing for my dear Momma
Waiting
Waiting
Waiting in the Holy Saturday of our brief lives
Waiting
Waiting
Charles Delacroix
Holy Saturday
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
From an ancient homily for Holy Saturday
The Lord's descent into the underworld
Something strange is happening – there is a great silence on earth today, a great silence and stillness. The whole earth keeps silence because the King is asleep. The earth trembled and is still because God has fallen asleep in the flesh and he has raised up all who have slept ever since the world began. God has died in the flesh and hell trembles with fear.
He has gone to search for our first parent, as for a lost sheep. Greatly desiring to visit those who live in darkness and in the shadow of death, he has gone to free from sorrow the captives Adam and Eve, he who is both God and the son of Eve. The Lord approached them bearing the cross, the weapon that had won him the victory. At the sight of him Adam, the first man he had created, struck his breast in terror and cried out to everyone: “My Lord be with you all”. Christ answered him: “And with your spirit”. He took him by the hand and raised him up, saying: “Awake, O sleeper, and rise from the dead, and Christ will give you light”.
I am your God, who for your sake have become your son. Out of love for you and for your descendants I now by my own authority command all who are held in bondage to come forth, all who are in darkness to be enlightened, all who are sleeping to arise. I order you, O sleeper, to awake. I did not create you to be held a prisoner in hell. Rise from the dead, for I am the life of the dead. Rise up, work of my hands, you who were created in my image. Rise, let us leave this place, for you are in me and I am in you; together we form only one person and we cannot be separated. For your sake I, your God, became your son; I, the Lord, took the form of a slave; I, whose home is above the heavens, descended to the earth and beneath the earth. For your sake, for the sake of man, I became like a man without help, free among the dead. For the sake of you, who left a garden, I was betrayed to the Jews in a garden, and I was crucified in a garden.
See on my face the spittle I received in order to restore to you the life I once breathed into you. See there the marks of the blows I received in order to refashion your warped nature in my image. On my back see the marks of the scourging I endured to remove the burden of sin that weighs upon your back. See my hands, nailed firmly to a tree, for you who once wickedly stretched out your hand to a tree.I slept on the cross and a sword pierced my side for you who slept in paradise and brought forth Eve from your side. My side has healed the pain in yours. My sleep will rouse you from your sleep in hell. The sword that pierced me has sheathed the sword that was turned against you.
Rise, let us leave this place. The enemy led you out of the earthly paradise. I will not restore you to that paradise, but I will enthrone you in heaven. I forbade you the tree that was only a symbol of life, but see, I who am life itself am now one with you. I appointed cherubim to guard you as slaves are guarded, but now I make them worship you as God. The throne formed by cherubim awaits you, its bearers swift and eager. The bridal chamber is adorned, the banquet is ready, the eternal dwelling places are prepared, the treasure houses of all good things lie open. The kingdom of heaven has been prepared for you from all eternity.
Concluding Prayer
Almighty and ever-living God,
your only-begotten Son descended into the underworld,
from which he rose into glory.In your kindness, grant that your faithful people,
who in their baptism shared his burial,
may advance to eternal life by sharing in his resurrection.
He lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
God for ever and ever.
Amen.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Amen, Amen, Amen
O Lord on this Holy Saturday
From which flows all our yesterdays and todays and tomorrows
All Holy Saturdays
All Buried with You in the Tomb
Waiting
Waiting in Silence
Waiting in Faith, Hope, and Love
Waiting
Longing and Waiting
Wondering and Waiting
Desiring and Waiting
Aching and Waiting
Loving and Waiting
Waiting
Waiting in the Tomb
Waiting in our lifelong Holy Saturday
Waiting
Waiting in the Tomb with the Dead Jesus
Waiting in the Tomb in the Dead Heart of Jesus
Waiting
Waiting
Waiting for the Dawn of the Resurrection of the Sacred Heart of Jesus
Waiting here in the Dead Heart of Jesus
Waiting
Waiting and Longing for You Lord Jesus
Waiting and Longing for my dear Momma
Waiting
Waiting
Waiting in the Holy Saturday of our brief lives
Waiting
Waiting
Charles Delacroix
Holy Saturday
Friday, March 21, 2008
Flowers and Bunnies and Good Friday
Oh Momma the Bradford pears are blooming so incredibly beautiful ... and the weather is downright balmy.
Spooky and I visited you and I took pictures. There's some dark green ground cover starting to come up over your grave ... and it's the same kind that's showing lovely dark purple flowers all across the sward ... at home ... and at the cemetery ...
Oh Momma ... how to celebrate Easter and you're not here ...
I couldn't resist buying you an Easter card. Even though it's not quite Easter yet. But it has a bunny on the cover and I know how much you would love it. As do I ...
Oh Momma ....
Oh Jesus Who This Night Did Save Us All ... Save my good Momma of Your Love and Courtesy Dear Lord Jesus ...
Oh Momma how I miss you ...
Oh Jesus ... oh Jesus ...
Oh I love you
Oh thank you
But Oh Momma I miss you so so so so so so much ...
Charles Delacroix
Good Friday
Spooky and I visited you and I took pictures. There's some dark green ground cover starting to come up over your grave ... and it's the same kind that's showing lovely dark purple flowers all across the sward ... at home ... and at the cemetery ...
Oh Momma ... how to celebrate Easter and you're not here ...
I couldn't resist buying you an Easter card. Even though it's not quite Easter yet. But it has a bunny on the cover and I know how much you would love it. As do I ...
Oh Momma ....
Oh Jesus Who This Night Did Save Us All ... Save my good Momma of Your Love and Courtesy Dear Lord Jesus ...
Oh Momma how I miss you ...
Oh Jesus ... oh Jesus ...
Oh I love you
Oh thank you
But Oh Momma I miss you so so so so so so much ...
Charles Delacroix
Good Friday
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
It's the Easter Beagle, Charlie Brown!
Well I meant to go to Grief Group tonite ... but got away from work late ... and was a bit sleepy, having lost sleep the last 2 nights ... so I'm now at home ...
And ABC is just now showing It's the Easter Beagle, Charlie Brown http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0071679/ ... a sort of take-off on the wonderful Charlie Brown Christmas classics ... and already, Momma, I'm remembering ... once again ... and missing you ... oh so much ... once again ...
For you Momma I so remember that Easter meant Church, and Easter Eggs.
Wonderful, colorful, oh incredibly delightful Easter Eggs.
And in your prudence and creativity you would of course make ... a few days or a week after Easter ... deviled eggs of the Easter Eggs. Delicious, wonderful deviled eggs. Oh I can taste them now ...
Last Easter ... our last Easter together ... I remember so our Sunday Morning visit to Memorial Drive UMC ... a wonderful, wonderful, but oh so bittersweet memory for me Momma ... I can only hope and pray that you are now celebrating Holy Week and Easter in a far far far better place ...
Today my boss and I went to visit the Creek County Jail where I'll probably be meeting with inmates who need urgent mental health assistance. Oh my. How many of these men and women will be spending their Easter in jail.
Oh Momma
Oh Momma ...
things could be much much much worse couldn't they Momma ...
Oh I love you so much Momma
I miss you so so so so so so so so much
Thank you Momma
I love you so much
Thank you Lord Jesus
I love you so much
Oh I love you and thank you oh ...
Charles Delacroix
Tuesday of Holy Week
And ABC is just now showing It's the Easter Beagle, Charlie Brown http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0071679/ ... a sort of take-off on the wonderful Charlie Brown Christmas classics ... and already, Momma, I'm remembering ... once again ... and missing you ... oh so much ... once again ...
For you Momma I so remember that Easter meant Church, and Easter Eggs.
Wonderful, colorful, oh incredibly delightful Easter Eggs.
And in your prudence and creativity you would of course make ... a few days or a week after Easter ... deviled eggs of the Easter Eggs. Delicious, wonderful deviled eggs. Oh I can taste them now ...
Last Easter ... our last Easter together ... I remember so our Sunday Morning visit to Memorial Drive UMC ... a wonderful, wonderful, but oh so bittersweet memory for me Momma ... I can only hope and pray that you are now celebrating Holy Week and Easter in a far far far better place ...
Today my boss and I went to visit the Creek County Jail where I'll probably be meeting with inmates who need urgent mental health assistance. Oh my. How many of these men and women will be spending their Easter in jail.
Oh Momma
Oh Momma ...
things could be much much much worse couldn't they Momma ...
Oh I love you so much Momma
I miss you so so so so so so so so much
Thank you Momma
I love you so much
Thank you Lord Jesus
I love you so much
Oh I love you and thank you oh ...
Charles Delacroix
Tuesday of Holy Week
Rain, Rain ...
It's been storming heavily here all night ... started just before I went to sleep last night and it was there when I got up this morning. That's a lot of rain for this period around here.
Then I thought of "Rain, rain. Smoky Mountains is thy name." I just now tried to google it and got no hits. But it's from one of the early chapters of a wonderful book on the Smoky Mountains by an author whose name I can't recall for the moment.
Oh I do miss the Smokies. When we lived in Knoxville, in East Tennessee, I went hiking there so many times. Charlie's Bunion and the Appalachian Trail and Gregory's Bald and the Jump Off ... how I miss them all.
Momma you and me went for a drive every now and then to Cades Cove. You didn't particularly like the mountains ... always liked relatively level lands where you said you could keep your feet flat on the ground. But oh Cades Cove ... beautiful rolling meadows, and old time farm houses, and cattle, and deer ... the deer in Cades Cove were always such a delight for both of us weren't they. And the flowers and streams and lovely lovely views across the Cove with the Smokies mounting high up above the Cove in the near distance.
It was raining so hard when I visited your grave this morning Momma. I prayed by candle light. OOR from Holy Week and MP from the Office for the Dead. Really beautiful and painful and even with all the rain and the water standing everywhere in the darkened cemetery it was really lovely ... and reminded me of Cades Cove in the rain.
Oh Momma ...
I miss you so so so so so so much ...
I love you and miss you
I love you Jesus
O Jesus please please please take good care of my good Momma
I love you Jesus
I love you Momma
Thank you
Thank you both so much
Thank you all so so so much
Rain, rain ... life is thy name ...
Charles Delacroix
Tuesday of Holy Week
Then I thought of "Rain, rain. Smoky Mountains is thy name." I just now tried to google it and got no hits. But it's from one of the early chapters of a wonderful book on the Smoky Mountains by an author whose name I can't recall for the moment.
Oh I do miss the Smokies. When we lived in Knoxville, in East Tennessee, I went hiking there so many times. Charlie's Bunion and the Appalachian Trail and Gregory's Bald and the Jump Off ... how I miss them all.
Momma you and me went for a drive every now and then to Cades Cove. You didn't particularly like the mountains ... always liked relatively level lands where you said you could keep your feet flat on the ground. But oh Cades Cove ... beautiful rolling meadows, and old time farm houses, and cattle, and deer ... the deer in Cades Cove were always such a delight for both of us weren't they. And the flowers and streams and lovely lovely views across the Cove with the Smokies mounting high up above the Cove in the near distance.
It was raining so hard when I visited your grave this morning Momma. I prayed by candle light. OOR from Holy Week and MP from the Office for the Dead. Really beautiful and painful and even with all the rain and the water standing everywhere in the darkened cemetery it was really lovely ... and reminded me of Cades Cove in the rain.
Oh Momma ...
I miss you so so so so so so much ...
I love you and miss you
I love you Jesus
O Jesus please please please take good care of my good Momma
I love you Jesus
I love you Momma
Thank you
Thank you both so much
Thank you all so so so much
Rain, rain ... life is thy name ...
Charles Delacroix
Tuesday of Holy Week
Monday, March 17, 2008
Ferrets ... and little fuzzy animals ... and missing Momma
I watched a program on PBS last night about ... of all things ... ferrets ... and about the people who own and care for them as pets ...
And I thought how much you would have loved to see this, Momma ...
You loved ... *any* little fuzzy animals ...
And we loved to talk about them didn't we.
Oh how I miss you so much Momma
I miss you so much
How do people do it
How do people do it
I just don't know
But they do
Oh Jesus Lord Jesus I feel like there is nothing inside me right now but an enormous enormous hole ... like I'm an enormous hole ... not a being but an absence of being ... a void, an emptiness, a nothingness ...
Oh Lord this is Holy Week ... the week in which You are Revealed as the True Messiah for all cast into the utter darkness and for all who are marginalized and alone ...
Oh Lord be my Messiah ...
Oh Lord how I miss my Momma ...
Oh Lord please please please please take good care of my good Momma please ...
And Lord have mercy
Christ have mercy
Lord have mercy
I love you and I miss you Momma
I love you Lord Jesus
I love you all
Thank you O thank you Lord Jesus for my dear Momma
Thank you
O God how it hurts tho
O God
And I thought how much you would have loved to see this, Momma ...
You loved ... *any* little fuzzy animals ...
And we loved to talk about them didn't we.
Oh how I miss you so much Momma
I miss you so much
How do people do it
How do people do it
I just don't know
But they do
Oh Jesus Lord Jesus I feel like there is nothing inside me right now but an enormous enormous hole ... like I'm an enormous hole ... not a being but an absence of being ... a void, an emptiness, a nothingness ...
Oh Lord this is Holy Week ... the week in which You are Revealed as the True Messiah for all cast into the utter darkness and for all who are marginalized and alone ...
Oh Lord be my Messiah ...
Oh Lord how I miss my Momma ...
Oh Lord please please please please take good care of my good Momma please ...
And Lord have mercy
Christ have mercy
Lord have mercy
I love you and I miss you Momma
I love you Lord Jesus
I love you all
Thank you O thank you Lord Jesus for my dear Momma
Thank you
O God how it hurts tho
O God
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Philbrook Art Museum
Well ... Momma, I mailed in our membership renewal today ...
I felt a little guilty ... but only a little ... Momma you had maintained a family membership in both of our names with a senior discount for you ... I sent in a renewal in the same amount wiht the same membership type marked ... a single membership would have cost less but oh oh oh Momma I can't bear not to see your name on Philbrook correspondence ...
I can't bear you not being here to enjoy Philbrook.
I spent a very enjoyable evening last night building something of a collections catalog of works at Philbrook in areas I enjoy so much ... I go weekly and have since you died Momma ... and enjoy it so much ... such a wonderful vision of Other Times and Other Places and Other People ... a reminder of so many things ... that Here We Have No Lasting Place ... that it's a Big Big World ... and more ...
I love you so much Momma
I love you and miss you so much ...
Thank you O Lord for my Momma
Thank you O Lord for Philbrook
Thank you O Lord for everything
Thank you ...
Charles Delacroix
Passion Sunday
I felt a little guilty ... but only a little ... Momma you had maintained a family membership in both of our names with a senior discount for you ... I sent in a renewal in the same amount wiht the same membership type marked ... a single membership would have cost less but oh oh oh Momma I can't bear not to see your name on Philbrook correspondence ...
I can't bear you not being here to enjoy Philbrook.
I spent a very enjoyable evening last night building something of a collections catalog of works at Philbrook in areas I enjoy so much ... I go weekly and have since you died Momma ... and enjoy it so much ... such a wonderful vision of Other Times and Other Places and Other People ... a reminder of so many things ... that Here We Have No Lasting Place ... that it's a Big Big World ... and more ...
I love you so much Momma
I love you and miss you so much ...
Thank you O Lord for my Momma
Thank you O Lord for Philbrook
Thank you O Lord for everything
Thank you ...
Charles Delacroix
Passion Sunday
Vantage Point ... and Memories of Spain
I saw Vantage Point (2008) http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0443274/ tonite ... for a second time ... really I saw it this time mostly because it was at a convenient time and I needed the stress mgmt ...
Well I liked the movie now as before; and now as before the movie was especially poignant because of its strong flavor of Europe ... set in Salamanca, Spain, and filmed there and in Mexico ... and the "touristy" features brought back memories as well.
Oh Momma always Europe was something I experienced with you ... the only exceptions were when in school in Switzerland, and during my honeymoon in Roma back in ... when? 1995 I think? Anyway mostly I thought of those times we were there. Even the demonstration reminded me of that time we were in ... where? Basle? Zurich? And there was a large demonstration against the Soviet re-occupation of Czechoslovakia ... I guess that must have been in 1968 or so ...
Oh Momma ... I wonder if I will ever be able to visit Europe again? What would it be like without you?
I remember that not long after you died, Momma, I arranged for my Passport ... I have it here ... haven't thought about it in awhile ... but after you died Momma I didn't know what would happen ... and frankly escaping into travels and spending what money was left on that definitely did cross my fevered weeping mind more than once.
I'm so glad I didn't of course ... and yet ... and yet I can't help but remember ... and miss our time in Europe together ...
Oh Momma how I miss you I miss you I miss you ...
Oh Momma
Oh Jesus
Oh Joseph
Oh Holy Mary Mother of God have mercy
I love you
I love you all
I miss you Momma
I love you Momma
Now and evermore
Oh Momma
Well I liked the movie now as before; and now as before the movie was especially poignant because of its strong flavor of Europe ... set in Salamanca, Spain, and filmed there and in Mexico ... and the "touristy" features brought back memories as well.
Oh Momma always Europe was something I experienced with you ... the only exceptions were when in school in Switzerland, and during my honeymoon in Roma back in ... when? 1995 I think? Anyway mostly I thought of those times we were there. Even the demonstration reminded me of that time we were in ... where? Basle? Zurich? And there was a large demonstration against the Soviet re-occupation of Czechoslovakia ... I guess that must have been in 1968 or so ...
Oh Momma ... I wonder if I will ever be able to visit Europe again? What would it be like without you?
I remember that not long after you died, Momma, I arranged for my Passport ... I have it here ... haven't thought about it in awhile ... but after you died Momma I didn't know what would happen ... and frankly escaping into travels and spending what money was left on that definitely did cross my fevered weeping mind more than once.
I'm so glad I didn't of course ... and yet ... and yet I can't help but remember ... and miss our time in Europe together ...
Oh Momma how I miss you I miss you I miss you ...
Oh Momma
Oh Jesus
Oh Joseph
Oh Holy Mary Mother of God have mercy
I love you
I love you all
I miss you Momma
I love you Momma
Now and evermore
Oh Momma
Flowers for Palm Sunday
Momma, there are really so many flowers out ... there are Easter flowers, and little purple flowers in the front yard, and at hte cemetery. The Bradford pears are blooming and when Spooky and I went to Woodward Park this afternoon ... temperatures climbing into the 60ss ... oh Momma oh Momma ... I saw a beautiful, beautiful early blooming redbud.
How you loved redbuds ... oh Momma ...
The little purple flowers are the kind you and me would smilingly describe as "shy little flowers". "Shy," I'd say, "But very pretty" and you'd say, "Yes, very pretty!"
Oh Momma ... O Momma ... Passion Sunday ... Palm Sunday ... and you not here ... how is it possible ... how is it even possible ...
Oh Momma ...
Oh Lord Jesus ...
How you loved redbuds ... oh Momma ...
The little purple flowers are the kind you and me would smilingly describe as "shy little flowers". "Shy," I'd say, "But very pretty" and you'd say, "Yes, very pretty!"
Oh Momma ... O Momma ... Passion Sunday ... Palm Sunday ... and you not here ... how is it possible ... how is it even possible ...
Oh Momma ...
Oh Lord Jesus ...
Palm Sunday
Or Passion Sunday as we say in the Catholic Church.
It's overcast here ... but I can hear a bird chirping outside the front door. And oh God. One year ago ... one short year ago ... I remember Momma and I going to Memorial Drive Methodist Church for the Palm Sunday service there. She sat in her wheelchair and held her palm branch; and I sat beside her and held mine. It was a beautiful worship service but bittersweet even then. And now ... oh God oh God oh God ... how I miss her ... how I miss her ...
Momma I loved getting to go with you to Church that morning though. What a beautiful thing that was. And now you're gone. And I don't know hos to make sense of things. What sense does a Palm Sunday make without you here.
Of course O Lord hte answer the only possible answer is You and You Alone.
You on this day beginning Your Solitary Journey through Holy Week to the Crucifixion.
And beyond to the Resurrection.
Solirary ... Alone into the Alone ...
Yet not Alone ... in You we too Journey to our own crucifixion ...
My Momma was journeying even then to her crucifixion ...
And I can hope to her Resurrection ...
In You O Lord all in You
Nothing else matters
Nothing else matters at all
Except it be in You
Oh Lord how it hurts
O Lord God ...
I love you Momma ...
I miss you so so so so so so so much ...
I love you Jesus ...
O Lord Jesus please please please please please take good care of my good Momma
I love you Jesus
I love you Momma
I love you all
Charles Delacroix
Passion Sunday
It's overcast here ... but I can hear a bird chirping outside the front door. And oh God. One year ago ... one short year ago ... I remember Momma and I going to Memorial Drive Methodist Church for the Palm Sunday service there. She sat in her wheelchair and held her palm branch; and I sat beside her and held mine. It was a beautiful worship service but bittersweet even then. And now ... oh God oh God oh God ... how I miss her ... how I miss her ...
Momma I loved getting to go with you to Church that morning though. What a beautiful thing that was. And now you're gone. And I don't know hos to make sense of things. What sense does a Palm Sunday make without you here.
Of course O Lord hte answer the only possible answer is You and You Alone.
You on this day beginning Your Solitary Journey through Holy Week to the Crucifixion.
And beyond to the Resurrection.
Solirary ... Alone into the Alone ...
Yet not Alone ... in You we too Journey to our own crucifixion ...
My Momma was journeying even then to her crucifixion ...
And I can hope to her Resurrection ...
In You O Lord all in You
Nothing else matters
Nothing else matters at all
Except it be in You
Oh Lord how it hurts
O Lord God ...
I love you Momma ...
I miss you so so so so so so so much ...
I love you Jesus ...
O Lord Jesus please please please please please take good care of my good Momma
I love you Jesus
I love you Momma
I love you all
Charles Delacroix
Passion Sunday
Saturday, March 15, 2008
Easter Flowers and Oatmeal
Oh Momma ... today is Saturday ... tomorrow is Palm Sunday ...
And I made myself some oatmeal ...
It tasted so good because most of all it reminded me ... a little ... of the wonderful oatmeal you made for me and my sister so many mornings ...
You always said "This will stick to your ribs" ... :) ... I think you said you got this from your Momma ... we always laughed ... one of us would say "Ewwww" and laugh ... and you would always laugh too and smilingly explain that your Momma meant that it was a good meal that would give us energy and sustenance to last us through till lunchtime.
And it did ... your oatmeal always "stuck to my ribs" ...
I made instant oats this morning ... you always used the "original" Quaker Oats ... I used a diabetic synthetic butter ... you always used big slices of real butter ... I used no bacon ... you broke up bits of real bacon you had just fried in the skillet ... I used no milk ... you always used several generous helpings of milk and filled our glasses full to the top with milk ...
Oh Momma how I miss you and your oatmeal. You took such good care of us.
Oh how I miss you.
I miss you so much.
The cemetery regs don't allow placement of fresh flowers till the end of the month ... but Momma, there's one of your neighbor graves that has some Easter flowers coming up just above the top edge of the grave marker ... I'm guessing these were clandestinely planted but they do look lovely ... and I'm wondering if I could next year plant a few bulbs around your marker ...
I miss you Momma
O I miss you
Please please ploease please please my good Jesus please take good care of my good Momma
I love you Momma
Thank you Momma
I love you Jesus
Thank you Jesus for everything ... especially for my Momma
I love you both
I love you all
I love you and thank you
Charles Delacroix
Saturday of 5th Week in Easter
Eve of Passion Sunday
And I made myself some oatmeal ...
It tasted so good because most of all it reminded me ... a little ... of the wonderful oatmeal you made for me and my sister so many mornings ...
You always said "This will stick to your ribs" ... :) ... I think you said you got this from your Momma ... we always laughed ... one of us would say "Ewwww" and laugh ... and you would always laugh too and smilingly explain that your Momma meant that it was a good meal that would give us energy and sustenance to last us through till lunchtime.
And it did ... your oatmeal always "stuck to my ribs" ...
I made instant oats this morning ... you always used the "original" Quaker Oats ... I used a diabetic synthetic butter ... you always used big slices of real butter ... I used no bacon ... you broke up bits of real bacon you had just fried in the skillet ... I used no milk ... you always used several generous helpings of milk and filled our glasses full to the top with milk ...
Oh Momma how I miss you and your oatmeal. You took such good care of us.
Oh how I miss you.
I miss you so much.
The cemetery regs don't allow placement of fresh flowers till the end of the month ... but Momma, there's one of your neighbor graves that has some Easter flowers coming up just above the top edge of the grave marker ... I'm guessing these were clandestinely planted but they do look lovely ... and I'm wondering if I could next year plant a few bulbs around your marker ...
I miss you Momma
O I miss you
Please please ploease please please my good Jesus please take good care of my good Momma
I love you Momma
Thank you Momma
I love you Jesus
Thank you Jesus for everything ... especially for my Momma
I love you both
I love you all
I love you and thank you
Charles Delacroix
Saturday of 5th Week in Easter
Eve of Passion Sunday
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day (2008)
Oh Momma ... I do feel somewhat better ...
Partly to be honest because I've been feeling plain exhausted all day. I'm just plain not young anymore. Staying awake all night leaves me plain worn out the next day.
I went to Orientation, participated OK, had some extra time to catch up at work ... and that felt better. I split a little early and went to see Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day (2008) http://imdb.com/title/tt0970468/. The movie didn't do very well at the b.o. ... it was just released in the USA in limited release last Friday 3/7 and it didn't even appear in the top 10 b.o. movies for the weekend. I guess I can see why it might not have garnered much audience. It was "slow", a comedy of manners of a truly old-fashioned kind ... think Cary Grant ... in fact this could well have been a 1950s Cary Grant movie. Me, I really found this movie delightful. What's not to like for that matter about a Cary Grant movie. Momma you and I both loved Cargy Grant movies. You I think would have liked this one very much too. It's set in pre-WWII London ... and has a similar flavor to Atonement (2007) http://imdb.com/title/tt0783233/ in its first part. In fact there's wonderful scene in a box canyon street in downtown London that looks extraordinarily like a scene in Atonement ... and who knows, maybe both movies included this same delightful street scene. But oh those WWII vintage scenes. I thought of you Momma so much. And the music ... here there was something of period jazz and period Big Band and you would have loved this, Momma. I kept thinking of he wonderful Big Band sound in The Mask (1994) http://imdb.com/title/tt0110475/ I kept thinking too of those Big Band sound shows we got to attend and enjoy so much in Knoxville. Oh Momma I think you would have loved this. I certainly did. What a charming, delightful movie.
Ah me. Momma ... oh Momma ... I can't believe that Spring is coming and you are not here. I can't believe that Palm Sunday is approaching in just a few days and you are not here. I can't believe that this life is anything at all without you here.
Ah me. Oh well.
Gratitude ... what a wonderful gift O Lord to even be allowed to walk the earth that Momma walked ... that her Generation walked ... that gives us such wonderful movies ...
Ah now a little pain. Still too tired to feel much of anything. But ...
Pain in
Pain out
Breathe the Pain in
Breathe the Pain out
Ah me.
I love you Lord
I love you Momma
I miss you Momma so so so so so so so much
O Lord please please please please ... take good care of my good Momma ...
I love you
Charles Delacroix
Tuesday of 5th Week in Lent
Partly to be honest because I've been feeling plain exhausted all day. I'm just plain not young anymore. Staying awake all night leaves me plain worn out the next day.
I went to Orientation, participated OK, had some extra time to catch up at work ... and that felt better. I split a little early and went to see Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day (2008) http://imdb.com/title/tt0970468/. The movie didn't do very well at the b.o. ... it was just released in the USA in limited release last Friday 3/7 and it didn't even appear in the top 10 b.o. movies for the weekend. I guess I can see why it might not have garnered much audience. It was "slow", a comedy of manners of a truly old-fashioned kind ... think Cary Grant ... in fact this could well have been a 1950s Cary Grant movie. Me, I really found this movie delightful. What's not to like for that matter about a Cary Grant movie. Momma you and I both loved Cargy Grant movies. You I think would have liked this one very much too. It's set in pre-WWII London ... and has a similar flavor to Atonement (2007) http://imdb.com/title/tt0783233/ in its first part. In fact there's wonderful scene in a box canyon street in downtown London that looks extraordinarily like a scene in Atonement ... and who knows, maybe both movies included this same delightful street scene. But oh those WWII vintage scenes. I thought of you Momma so much. And the music ... here there was something of period jazz and period Big Band and you would have loved this, Momma. I kept thinking of he wonderful Big Band sound in The Mask (1994) http://imdb.com/title/tt0110475/ I kept thinking too of those Big Band sound shows we got to attend and enjoy so much in Knoxville. Oh Momma I think you would have loved this. I certainly did. What a charming, delightful movie.
Ah me. Momma ... oh Momma ... I can't believe that Spring is coming and you are not here. I can't believe that Palm Sunday is approaching in just a few days and you are not here. I can't believe that this life is anything at all without you here.
Ah me. Oh well.
Gratitude ... what a wonderful gift O Lord to even be allowed to walk the earth that Momma walked ... that her Generation walked ... that gives us such wonderful movies ...
Ah now a little pain. Still too tired to feel much of anything. But ...
Pain in
Pain out
Breathe the Pain in
Breathe the Pain out
Ah me.
I love you Lord
I love you Momma
I miss you Momma so so so so so so so much
O Lord please please please please ... take good care of my good Momma ...
I love you
Charles Delacroix
Tuesday of 5th Week in Lent
OK I'm feeling a bit better now
I dozed for I think an hour ... had the TV on for distraction's sake ... and kept breathing the Pain in and out ... and feel a little better now ...
Still feel under hi stress but at least I'm not bouncing off walls.
Oh Lord help me
Oh Momma I miss you please pray for me
I love you and miss you so much
Oh God tho it hurts thank you for Your Grace that preserves me in spite of the Pain
Thank you for Your Cross and Your Way of the Cross that is our salvation
I love you
Charles Delacroix
Tuesday of Week 5 in Lent
Still feel under hi stress but at least I'm not bouncing off walls.
Oh Lord help me
Oh Momma I miss you please pray for me
I love you and miss you so much
Oh God tho it hurts thank you for Your Grace that preserves me in spite of the Pain
Thank you for Your Cross and Your Way of the Cross that is our salvation
I love you
Charles Delacroix
Tuesday of Week 5 in Lent
Pain Pain Pain
Here it's almost 4 in the morning and I haven't been able to get to sleep ... still feel my heart pumping, my breath short and fast, anxiety ... almost ... overwhelming.
Oh Lord
Breathe pain in
Breathe pain out
In
Out
Oh Lord
I finally went to my bookshelves and pulled out a couple of CS Lewis books. The Problem of Pain (sic!) and Mere Christianity. I can't find the dogeared versions of either ... what did I do with them ... ? But I found another copy of each. The latter is in hardback ... a generous and loving gift of you my dear dear Momma ... oh oh oh Momma how I miss you ...
OK
So Pain ... is part of Life
It's the Way of the Cross
It's the Way of Life
It's the Way
It's Your Way
Oh but Lord the Pain ...
Oh God
It Hurts
But of course it Hurts ... it's Pain .. that's what the word means ... it Hurts ...
Oh Lord I need you so so so so much
Oh Momma how I miss you ... I love you & miss you ...
I love you
I love you
I hurt
but I love you
Oh Lord
Breathe pain in
Breathe pain out
In
Out
Oh Lord
I finally went to my bookshelves and pulled out a couple of CS Lewis books. The Problem of Pain (sic!) and Mere Christianity. I can't find the dogeared versions of either ... what did I do with them ... ? But I found another copy of each. The latter is in hardback ... a generous and loving gift of you my dear dear Momma ... oh oh oh Momma how I miss you ...
OK
So Pain ... is part of Life
It's the Way of the Cross
It's the Way of Life
It's the Way
It's Your Way
Oh but Lord the Pain ...
Oh God
It Hurts
But of course it Hurts ... it's Pain .. that's what the word means ... it Hurts ...
Oh Lord I need you so so so so much
Oh Momma how I miss you ... I love you & miss you ...
I love you
I love you
I hurt
but I love you
Buckley Tributes on YouTube
I watched two very moving YouTube tributes to Bill Buckley tonite. They were linked via NRO. Nhale Media's Goodnight, Bill comes in 2 parts:
William F. Buckley Jr. - In His Own Words Part I
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8lpKwTG1Mcg
William F. Buckley Jr. - In His Own Words Part II
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j0RxRoDrgCg
About 15 minutes total ... and so moving. Part II includes the aged Buckley talking about death with Pete Rose ... amazing, and moving beyond words ...
Oh pain
Breathe the pain in
Breathe the pain out
Pain in
Pain out
Oh God
Oh Momma
Oh ...
Charles Delacroix
Monday of Week 5 in Lent
William F. Buckley Jr. - In His Own Words Part I
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8lpKwTG1Mcg
William F. Buckley Jr. - In His Own Words Part II
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j0RxRoDrgCg
About 15 minutes total ... and so moving. Part II includes the aged Buckley talking about death with Pete Rose ... amazing, and moving beyond words ...
Oh pain
Breathe the pain in
Breathe the pain out
Pain in
Pain out
Oh God
Oh Momma
Oh ...
Charles Delacroix
Monday of Week 5 in Lent
Monday, March 10, 2008
Breathing in the Pain, Breathing out the Pain
I suddenly remembered this yesterday, or the day before ... and did it ... and it helped ...
I remembered it again tonite ... after a rough, rough day ... oh God ... oh Momma ...
And right now ...
Breathing in the pain
Breathing out the pain
Breathing in the pain
Breathing out the pain
yes ... yes Lord ... that helps ...
yes ... yes Momma ... that helps ...
Was it you Momma who brought this to me ... ? Yesterday? And tonite?
Or was it you Jesus?
Or both?
Breathe in the pain
Breathe out the pain
Breathe in the pain
Breathe out the pain
The Pain ... the Cross ...
The Way of the Cross ...
Breathe in the pain
Breathe out the pain
Breathe in the pain
Breathe out the pain
I love you Jesus
I love you Momma
Oh God the pain
Breathing in the pain
Breathing out the pain
Oh God
In the pain
Out the pain
Charles Delacroix
Monday in the 5th Week in Lent
I remembered it again tonite ... after a rough, rough day ... oh God ... oh Momma ...
And right now ...
Breathing in the pain
Breathing out the pain
Breathing in the pain
Breathing out the pain
yes ... yes Lord ... that helps ...
yes ... yes Momma ... that helps ...
Was it you Momma who brought this to me ... ? Yesterday? And tonite?
Or was it you Jesus?
Or both?
Breathe in the pain
Breathe out the pain
Breathe in the pain
Breathe out the pain
The Pain ... the Cross ...
The Way of the Cross ...
Breathe in the pain
Breathe out the pain
Breathe in the pain
Breathe out the pain
I love you Jesus
I love you Momma
Oh God the pain
Breathing in the pain
Breathing out the pain
Oh God
In the pain
Out the pain
Charles Delacroix
Monday in the 5th Week in Lent
Weekends are Rough: So Remember ... the Goal
Weekends have been really, really rough ... and yesterday I realized that I think I'm just going to have to be very careful not to try to "overdo" ... and to focus on "good self-care".
During the week I'm working and working and so many things are distracting me from the pain ... I'm not sure that this is good or bad or indifferent but that's the way it is ...
But at night especially ... and in the mornings ... and on weekends ... the pain comes sweeping back with a vengeance ...
And I was reflecting a few days ago that this isn't all that different from life heretofore ... pain and unhappiness and suffering are everyone's lot, for one thing, so mine as well. And even at a felt level, my unhappiness now and my unhappiness past, are they really so different?
I'm not positive ... but I think the answer is Yes and No.
Yes in this sense that I felt yesterday morning with special acuity driving down to visit you Momma ... I feel like a part of me, an enormous part of me, is missing. As if someone plunged a fist into my solar plexus, leaving me sometimes literally gasping for air, choking, gulping, wondering if I can scramble up through the waves of sorrow to gulp down fast too-short gulps of air.
I'm looking Back as once I looked Forward ... almost daily, almost hourly, almost always. That's different.
I remember a few times in my life when I would reflect, "this moment is passing and I wonder how I will remember it later." One of those moments, or a collection of such moments, occurred when I was a teen lifeguard at the Teen Club in Tripoli. That was about (oh) about 38 or 40 years ago when I think about it. I was sitting in the lifeguard chair looking out over this amazing Mediterranean Sea ... deep deep blues, amazing hues of green, pale clear water, bright, blazing sun overhead. I can remember thinking, this is amazing, and it will pass, and I wonder how it will be for me in the future?
Now is the future ... and how is it for me now?
I miss it ... I miss it terribly ... and you know ... it's all, all tied up ... with Momma ... with my nurturance, with my upbringing, with my growth, with my origins.
It feels like the wind has been knocked out of me to think of you gone Momma; to think of those days gone as well.
It feels like loss
Loss irreplaceable, loss irredeemable
And part of my Goal today must therefore be to experience or re-experience that Loss
My Goal today is to respond to the devastating catastrophe of your Loss, Momma, with some sense of integrity and honor and authenticity
I've got to remember this Goal and embrace this Goal in Christ.
In 2 days my Grief Group meets ... I've just got to be there this time, I must not miss it.
Oh Lord help me keep this commitment to help me keep my commitment to Momma, to You
I love you Momma
I love you Lord
Oh how I miss you
Charles Delacroix
Monday of 5th Week in Lent
During the week I'm working and working and so many things are distracting me from the pain ... I'm not sure that this is good or bad or indifferent but that's the way it is ...
But at night especially ... and in the mornings ... and on weekends ... the pain comes sweeping back with a vengeance ...
And I was reflecting a few days ago that this isn't all that different from life heretofore ... pain and unhappiness and suffering are everyone's lot, for one thing, so mine as well. And even at a felt level, my unhappiness now and my unhappiness past, are they really so different?
I'm not positive ... but I think the answer is Yes and No.
Yes in this sense that I felt yesterday morning with special acuity driving down to visit you Momma ... I feel like a part of me, an enormous part of me, is missing. As if someone plunged a fist into my solar plexus, leaving me sometimes literally gasping for air, choking, gulping, wondering if I can scramble up through the waves of sorrow to gulp down fast too-short gulps of air.
I'm looking Back as once I looked Forward ... almost daily, almost hourly, almost always. That's different.
I remember a few times in my life when I would reflect, "this moment is passing and I wonder how I will remember it later." One of those moments, or a collection of such moments, occurred when I was a teen lifeguard at the Teen Club in Tripoli. That was about (oh) about 38 or 40 years ago when I think about it. I was sitting in the lifeguard chair looking out over this amazing Mediterranean Sea ... deep deep blues, amazing hues of green, pale clear water, bright, blazing sun overhead. I can remember thinking, this is amazing, and it will pass, and I wonder how it will be for me in the future?
Now is the future ... and how is it for me now?
I miss it ... I miss it terribly ... and you know ... it's all, all tied up ... with Momma ... with my nurturance, with my upbringing, with my growth, with my origins.
It feels like the wind has been knocked out of me to think of you gone Momma; to think of those days gone as well.
It feels like loss
Loss irreplaceable, loss irredeemable
And part of my Goal today must therefore be to experience or re-experience that Loss
My Goal today is to respond to the devastating catastrophe of your Loss, Momma, with some sense of integrity and honor and authenticity
I've got to remember this Goal and embrace this Goal in Christ.
In 2 days my Grief Group meets ... I've just got to be there this time, I must not miss it.
Oh Lord help me keep this commitment to help me keep my commitment to Momma, to You
I love you Momma
I love you Lord
Oh how I miss you
Charles Delacroix
Monday of 5th Week in Lent
Diet Rite Cola
I enjoyed yesterday getting to sit in the chair and visit with you at your grave Momma. It was so good too ... to get to take along some Diet Rite Cola and pour a little on your earthen covers.
I felt then ... and feel now ... such a strong, strong memory ... more body memory than visual memory but even so ... of you and me and Si Si down at the YWCA ... when we were oh so little ... you taking us swimming ... "swimmin' with the women" ... and as we were leaving we always stopped to get a pop from the pop machine ... and you always got for yourself a Diet Rite soda ...
Oh Momma how I miss you.
I felt then ... and feel now ... such a strong, strong memory ... more body memory than visual memory but even so ... of you and me and Si Si down at the YWCA ... when we were oh so little ... you taking us swimming ... "swimmin' with the women" ... and as we were leaving we always stopped to get a pop from the pop machine ... and you always got for yourself a Diet Rite soda ...
Oh Momma how I miss you.
Community
Yesterday morning I was listening to NPR ... there was an interview with someone who had written a book with a title I can't find on Google right now, but it was something like, "The Short Bus". The author heads a disabilities advocacy group of some kind, and told a very moving story about someone with Asperger's Disorder. Asked when such a person might feel "normal", the author said "only in the context of Community." As he warmed to his subject, I cried ... because yes, it's Community I think I almost miss more than anything else.
And then I became ... not for long but I became ... angry at you, Momma. For leaving Hornersville ... etched forever in my mind and soul as Community. You and Aunt Edna left ... and maybe now I'm simply suffering from "grass looks greener on the other side syndrome." You left, Momma, and never went back except to visit. Even with death approaching, you stated unequivocally that you wanted to be buried here in Tulsa, not in Hornersville. Here in Tulsa, where your family of today is: not only me but your sister of course, and her family.
And yet all your life, and mine, I've heard you speak of Hornersville ... as "home" in a sense that noplace else can be home.
Yet this is your home of choice, here in Tulsa.
I have no answers ... I know that if you had not left Hornersville, among other things, I would not (as far as I can see) have been born at all. You would have married someone other than Dad; and settled to have a family there in that Community.
Oh but how it hurts ... even now ... for me, who have never lived in Hornersville, who has only visited briefly, who has always had Hornersville in my imagination as the Community of our origins, though ... how painful it is not to be in this Community ...
Yet O Lord I am in another Community
Your Community of Faith
Your Body of Christ
Your Holy Roman Catholic Church
Community of communities
Communitas
O Lord though ... I love you
Ilove you Momma ...
O Lord please please please please please take good care of my good Momma
I love you Momma so much
I miss you Momma so much
Oh Momma
Oh Lord
Charles Delacroix
Monday of the 5th Week in Lent
And then I became ... not for long but I became ... angry at you, Momma. For leaving Hornersville ... etched forever in my mind and soul as Community. You and Aunt Edna left ... and maybe now I'm simply suffering from "grass looks greener on the other side syndrome." You left, Momma, and never went back except to visit. Even with death approaching, you stated unequivocally that you wanted to be buried here in Tulsa, not in Hornersville. Here in Tulsa, where your family of today is: not only me but your sister of course, and her family.
And yet all your life, and mine, I've heard you speak of Hornersville ... as "home" in a sense that noplace else can be home.
Yet this is your home of choice, here in Tulsa.
I have no answers ... I know that if you had not left Hornersville, among other things, I would not (as far as I can see) have been born at all. You would have married someone other than Dad; and settled to have a family there in that Community.
Oh but how it hurts ... even now ... for me, who have never lived in Hornersville, who has only visited briefly, who has always had Hornersville in my imagination as the Community of our origins, though ... how painful it is not to be in this Community ...
Yet O Lord I am in another Community
Your Community of Faith
Your Body of Christ
Your Holy Roman Catholic Church
Community of communities
Communitas
O Lord though ... I love you
Ilove you Momma ...
O Lord please please please please please take good care of my good Momma
I love you Momma so much
I miss you Momma so much
Oh Momma
Oh Lord
Charles Delacroix
Monday of the 5th Week in Lent
Saturday, March 8, 2008
Homes and Houses
Houses aren't just houses any more than sex is just sex or money is just money.
Sex ... no matter what worldly views may hold to the contrary ... Sex is about Relationship.
Money ... I thought at one time might be at best a necessary evil ... but really, Momma, to you and your generation, Money always meant something more than money: it meant ability to live in a home, it meant ability to take care of your family, it meant your children's college fund ..
So houses for you always meant not just a building, but a building with your family in it: that's what made a house a Home.
I remember so well when we were out and about and you would turn to me ... as you did on that fateful day at the hospital when I told you what the doctors said about your terminal condition ... how well I remember your words ... "Son ... let's go home."
And home we went. To the home that is only partly represented by the house in which I am sitting right now typing this. This house oh Momma was your Home, was our Home. It is still my Home today. It is still, to me at least, our Home today still.
Today I drove by your previous Homes ... the house on N Urbana, the house on S Pittsburg, the house on E 32nd, the house on E 38th ... they all looked like they were in good condition, Momma. The enormous storm damage from December has been finally cleaned up, substantially, over the last week or so by these enormous contract debris collection trucks. And the houses that were our Homes in the past look good, Momma, they really do ...
Oh thank you Momma and thank you God ... for Homes ...
And Oh Lord
Please please please please ... take me Home to my true Home ... to our true Home ... to be with You .. and with my dear dear Momma ...
I love you
I love you both
I love you
Charles Delacroix
Feast of St John of God
Money
Sex ... no matter what worldly views may hold to the contrary ... Sex is about Relationship.
Money ... I thought at one time might be at best a necessary evil ... but really, Momma, to you and your generation, Money always meant something more than money: it meant ability to live in a home, it meant ability to take care of your family, it meant your children's college fund ..
So houses for you always meant not just a building, but a building with your family in it: that's what made a house a Home.
I remember so well when we were out and about and you would turn to me ... as you did on that fateful day at the hospital when I told you what the doctors said about your terminal condition ... how well I remember your words ... "Son ... let's go home."
And home we went. To the home that is only partly represented by the house in which I am sitting right now typing this. This house oh Momma was your Home, was our Home. It is still my Home today. It is still, to me at least, our Home today still.
Today I drove by your previous Homes ... the house on N Urbana, the house on S Pittsburg, the house on E 32nd, the house on E 38th ... they all looked like they were in good condition, Momma. The enormous storm damage from December has been finally cleaned up, substantially, over the last week or so by these enormous contract debris collection trucks. And the houses that were our Homes in the past look good, Momma, they really do ...
Oh thank you Momma and thank you God ... for Homes ...
And Oh Lord
Please please please please ... take me Home to my true Home ... to our true Home ... to be with You .. and with my dear dear Momma ...
I love you
I love you both
I love you
Charles Delacroix
Feast of St John of God
Money
Happiness and Unhappiness
A mixed mixed day ...
Oh Momma I miss you ... and am so grateful for you ... and really ... really when I think about it ... don't know why anything should be different than the way they are ... objectively I mean ... since at another level nothing at all is right without you here ...
But now I thought this morning about Happiness, and Unhappiness.
Somewhere CS Lewis said that the maternal side of his familey "lacked the talent for Happiness."
And really there is, isn't there, something of a Talent involved in Happiness. Some people I think really are on balance ... well, Happy.
Me ... looking back ... when I think about it ... when has Happiness ever been among my admittedly meagre talents?
Well ... the answer of course is never. By and large my life before you left, Momma, was Unhappy. Now that you are gone, my life is by and large Unhappy.
So ... hey ... what to complain about in this regard. Nothing of course.
Oh my.
Yet ... yet when I think about what I know of you and your own life ... would it not be right to say that you were, on the whole, Happy?
I remember not long before you died ... a few weeks perhaps ... tearfully saying something to you about wanting you to be Happy. And I remember your look: kind, loving ... but also almost quizzical. This is not a question that you generally asked yourself, is it. And you said, "I don't know that I'm Unhappy ..." and said words then that indicated that, to the extent that such a question had any meaning at all, you were in fact, Happy.
This is one of the differences, I think, between your generation and mine, perhaps.
We, in my own generation, reflect on such things ... perhaps far, far more than we should. But "What makes me Happy? What is Happiness? What makes people Happy?" Those are the kinds of things that almost come naturally to us. And not only to us of course. In the Declaration of Independence we are told that all men are endowed with the Right to Life, Liberty, and Happiness. I indeed treasure this expression even if I wrestle with its meaning. But Happiness: yes, it is desirable for me, as for others.
For your genration perhaps as well Happiness was desirable ... but in an almost undefined, unreflective, and very, very active sense. You acted: you had things to do, places to go, lives to build, families to raise, and a future that cost time, money, and effort to secure. In so many ways I really think yours was the Just Do It generation. You did it: and were Happy, or Unhappy, with the results; but that was secondary always to Doing what you were Doing. You fought a World War and saved the planet; you married and had children and raised families; you worked for your jobs and made money to pay for the present and futures for your families.
And you were, as you say, "not Unhappy." Even Happy.
Et pourquoi pas. "On doit supposer Sisiphe Heureux."
Ah me. I think, Momma, you had, in fact, despite your many, many difficulties, your many many tragedies, your amazing daily challenges ... Momma, you had the Talent for Happiness.
And I thank God for you ... and thank Him for gifting you ... and in you, me.
I love you Momma
I love you Lord Jesus
I love you all Sons and Daughters of Adam and Eve, those Happy, those Unhappy.
I love you and thank you.
Oh Momma I miss you ... and am so grateful for you ... and really ... really when I think about it ... don't know why anything should be different than the way they are ... objectively I mean ... since at another level nothing at all is right without you here ...
But now I thought this morning about Happiness, and Unhappiness.
Somewhere CS Lewis said that the maternal side of his familey "lacked the talent for Happiness."
And really there is, isn't there, something of a Talent involved in Happiness. Some people I think really are on balance ... well, Happy.
Me ... looking back ... when I think about it ... when has Happiness ever been among my admittedly meagre talents?
Well ... the answer of course is never. By and large my life before you left, Momma, was Unhappy. Now that you are gone, my life is by and large Unhappy.
So ... hey ... what to complain about in this regard. Nothing of course.
Oh my.
Yet ... yet when I think about what I know of you and your own life ... would it not be right to say that you were, on the whole, Happy?
I remember not long before you died ... a few weeks perhaps ... tearfully saying something to you about wanting you to be Happy. And I remember your look: kind, loving ... but also almost quizzical. This is not a question that you generally asked yourself, is it. And you said, "I don't know that I'm Unhappy ..." and said words then that indicated that, to the extent that such a question had any meaning at all, you were in fact, Happy.
This is one of the differences, I think, between your generation and mine, perhaps.
We, in my own generation, reflect on such things ... perhaps far, far more than we should. But "What makes me Happy? What is Happiness? What makes people Happy?" Those are the kinds of things that almost come naturally to us. And not only to us of course. In the Declaration of Independence we are told that all men are endowed with the Right to Life, Liberty, and Happiness. I indeed treasure this expression even if I wrestle with its meaning. But Happiness: yes, it is desirable for me, as for others.
For your genration perhaps as well Happiness was desirable ... but in an almost undefined, unreflective, and very, very active sense. You acted: you had things to do, places to go, lives to build, families to raise, and a future that cost time, money, and effort to secure. In so many ways I really think yours was the Just Do It generation. You did it: and were Happy, or Unhappy, with the results; but that was secondary always to Doing what you were Doing. You fought a World War and saved the planet; you married and had children and raised families; you worked for your jobs and made money to pay for the present and futures for your families.
And you were, as you say, "not Unhappy." Even Happy.
Et pourquoi pas. "On doit supposer Sisiphe Heureux."
Ah me. I think, Momma, you had, in fact, despite your many, many difficulties, your many many tragedies, your amazing daily challenges ... Momma, you had the Talent for Happiness.
And I thank God for you ... and thank Him for gifting you ... and in you, me.
I love you Momma
I love you Lord Jesus
I love you all Sons and Daughters of Adam and Eve, those Happy, those Unhappy.
I love you and thank you.
Friday, March 7, 2008
Anthony R. Dolan on William F. Buckley, Jr
I just read this extraordinary piece on NRO ... Anthony R. Dolan's The Other Buckley ...
http://article.nationalreview.com/?q=NTQzYTdhYTYyYmEzYTE1YzY2MzAxODJiMmRjM2M4NTM=
And what an extraordinary testimony to this extraordinary man ...
I was so moved by his description of his Leon Kass moment ... and oh Momma ... I remember, I so remember my own Leon Kass moments as you lay dying ... kneeling at your deathbed ... holding your hand and stroking your beautiful soft white hair after you died ... oh Momma ... the pain is still so so so devastating ... but the gratitude and thanksgiving truly fill my heart to bursting even now oh Momma ... oh thank you ... thank you ... what really is there to say but: thank you, Momma.
And thank you Lord Jesus ...
And thank you Oh Holy Mary Mother of God ... mother of all mothers ...
Thank you Ss Felicity & Perpetua ...
Thank you all angels and saints ...
Thank you ...
http://article.nationalreview.com/?q=NTQzYTdhYTYyYmEzYTE1YzY2MzAxODJiMmRjM2M4NTM=
And what an extraordinary testimony to this extraordinary man ...
I was so moved by his description of his Leon Kass moment ... and oh Momma ... I remember, I so remember my own Leon Kass moments as you lay dying ... kneeling at your deathbed ... holding your hand and stroking your beautiful soft white hair after you died ... oh Momma ... the pain is still so so so devastating ... but the gratitude and thanksgiving truly fill my heart to bursting even now oh Momma ... oh thank you ... thank you ... what really is there to say but: thank you, Momma.
And thank you Lord Jesus ...
And thank you Oh Holy Mary Mother of God ... mother of all mothers ...
Thank you Ss Felicity & Perpetua ...
Thank you all angels and saints ...
Thank you ...
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
The 45th Infantry Division, and Bill Mauldin
[I'm still out of town at conference ... but just found out last night I could use a courtesy network here to access the Internet ... so I'm posting from my motel room ... no big deal to anyone else I know but it's sort of a new cool thing to me ... a good thing ...]
I cut out of the plenary early ... believe me I wasn't missing anything really ... and felt really drawn to visit the 45th Infantry Division Museum. I spotted a sign for it yesterday when I was coming into Oklahoma City ... and have thought about it ever since then ...
And oh what a moving, moving visit this was. Hey it's online: http://www.45thdivisionmuseum.com/ What a wonderful, wonderful museum.
The man behind the desk was very kind and welcoming; and the museum simply exuded honor for veterans and a special welcome to veterans of the 45th.
For the 45th is above all the Oklahoma division. It has a much storied history and I thought my Dad was attached to it at some point ... I don't think so now, but now know why I associated the 45th with Dad: it's because the 45th was Bill Mauldin's army unit. Oh how could I forget. Dad loved Bill Mauldin. And so did I. Cartoon after cartoon from the Stars & Stripes and from the 45th Division News.
And the museum is not only full of extraordinary military memorabilia of this extraordianry division ... it has a whole room full of Bill Mauldin prints and even some Bill Mauldin originals. Including one of those wonderful Charles Schulz Peanuts comic strips alluding to Bill Mauldin. One is an original Peanuts, with Snoopy stalking about quaffing root beers with Bill Mauldin, and a placard says that Schulz alluded to Bill Mauldin every year on Veterans Day. What a tribute.
There's even an original drawing of Willie that Bill Mauldin drew for the opening of the museum.
Alas a notice said that Bill Mauldin died January 22, 2003. Oh I had forgotten. I'm sure Mom and I talked about his passing. Momma, he died ... oh ... exactly 4 years and 7 months before you died on August 22, 2007.
I just googled and found some wonderful Bill Mauldin sources. There's a good Wikipedia article and links at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bill_Mauldin. Then there's a cool Spartacus article at
http://www.spartacus.schoolnet.co.uk/ARTmauldin.htm. And a delightful Library of Congress retrospective at http://www.loc.gov/rr/print/swann/mauldin/mauldin-atwar.html.
Oh so very moving.
Momma you would have loved this museum so much. I hope I can visit it again. It really almost cries out for a character like me to visit again. For the story told there is the story of Dad. And the story of you Momma. The story of your generation. The Greatest Generation.
Oh Momma ... oh Momma ... I love you and miss you so so so much ...
And I admire you so much
I admire you Dad and all of your generation ...
So much I don't understand
But this I do know: I am grateful beyond words as are so many for all that your generation did for all of us today ...
Charles Delacroix
Feast of St Casimir
I cut out of the plenary early ... believe me I wasn't missing anything really ... and felt really drawn to visit the 45th Infantry Division Museum. I spotted a sign for it yesterday when I was coming into Oklahoma City ... and have thought about it ever since then ...
And oh what a moving, moving visit this was. Hey it's online: http://www.45thdivisionmuseum.com/ What a wonderful, wonderful museum.
The man behind the desk was very kind and welcoming; and the museum simply exuded honor for veterans and a special welcome to veterans of the 45th.
For the 45th is above all the Oklahoma division. It has a much storied history and I thought my Dad was attached to it at some point ... I don't think so now, but now know why I associated the 45th with Dad: it's because the 45th was Bill Mauldin's army unit. Oh how could I forget. Dad loved Bill Mauldin. And so did I. Cartoon after cartoon from the Stars & Stripes and from the 45th Division News.
And the museum is not only full of extraordinary military memorabilia of this extraordianry division ... it has a whole room full of Bill Mauldin prints and even some Bill Mauldin originals. Including one of those wonderful Charles Schulz Peanuts comic strips alluding to Bill Mauldin. One is an original Peanuts, with Snoopy stalking about quaffing root beers with Bill Mauldin, and a placard says that Schulz alluded to Bill Mauldin every year on Veterans Day. What a tribute.
There's even an original drawing of Willie that Bill Mauldin drew for the opening of the museum.
Alas a notice said that Bill Mauldin died January 22, 2003. Oh I had forgotten. I'm sure Mom and I talked about his passing. Momma, he died ... oh ... exactly 4 years and 7 months before you died on August 22, 2007.
I just googled and found some wonderful Bill Mauldin sources. There's a good Wikipedia article and links at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bill_Mauldin. Then there's a cool Spartacus article at
http://www.spartacus.schoolnet.co.uk/ARTmauldin.htm. And a delightful Library of Congress retrospective at http://www.loc.gov/rr/print/swann/mauldin/mauldin-atwar.html.
Oh so very moving.
Momma you would have loved this museum so much. I hope I can visit it again. It really almost cries out for a character like me to visit again. For the story told there is the story of Dad. And the story of you Momma. The story of your generation. The Greatest Generation.
Oh Momma ... oh Momma ... I love you and miss you so so so much ...
And I admire you so much
I admire you Dad and all of your generation ...
So much I don't understand
But this I do know: I am grateful beyond words as are so many for all that your generation did for all of us today ...
Charles Delacroix
Feast of St Casimir
Denouement and Work
[I wrote this last night when I was out of town at a professional conference]
I woke up this morning feeling so horribly, horribly alone. Again.
That sense of hopelessness, of denouement, of finishing up, of mopping up …
I thought about work in this regard.
I just need really to focus on work as being part of my denouement. Do what I can to help, do “the thing,” really just “do it” … Momma you would understand.
Focus on “the basics”. The basics in my case mean (a) good self-care; (b) try not to get too attached to anything; (c) focus on helping out to whatever extent I can within those parameters.
Actually that might be the best thing anyway from the point of view of trying to do the best job I can given my very real “intractabilities.”
And from a self-care standpoint: for the rest of this conference, I just need to keep good emotional boundaries, don’t try too hard, and just do the thing. Talk with a few folks and ask them how they’re doing, and maybe say something supportive for *them.* Hell, we’ve all got problems, and there’s not going to be any counselors here that couldn’t use a hand shake or a simple supportive smile or greeting.
Well it’s 7:30. Time for heading over to the conference. Hmm. Continental breakfast 7:30-8:30; and the plenary starts at 8:30.
Oh Momma … God I remember how you and me and sister used to love continental breakfasts in Europe …
Oh Momma how I miss you …
I miss you so so so so so so so so much …
I love you and I miss you
Oh Jesus please please please please take good care of my good Momma
What wonderful Psalms this morning in OOR & MP … wonderful reminders that here we have no lasting place indeed … and here my bones are crushed and broken … and therefore it seems … all is as it should be …
In a way … in another way O Lord everything is wrong … wrong without my Momma here …
Oh my.
But O God. Thy Will Be Done.
Thy Will Be Done.
God have mercy on me and my Momma
God save my Momma’s sister and her family
God oh God oh God
I love you God I love you Momma
Oh God
Charles Delacroix
Feast of St Casimir
I woke up this morning feeling so horribly, horribly alone. Again.
That sense of hopelessness, of denouement, of finishing up, of mopping up …
I thought about work in this regard.
I just need really to focus on work as being part of my denouement. Do what I can to help, do “the thing,” really just “do it” … Momma you would understand.
Focus on “the basics”. The basics in my case mean (a) good self-care; (b) try not to get too attached to anything; (c) focus on helping out to whatever extent I can within those parameters.
Actually that might be the best thing anyway from the point of view of trying to do the best job I can given my very real “intractabilities.”
And from a self-care standpoint: for the rest of this conference, I just need to keep good emotional boundaries, don’t try too hard, and just do the thing. Talk with a few folks and ask them how they’re doing, and maybe say something supportive for *them.* Hell, we’ve all got problems, and there’s not going to be any counselors here that couldn’t use a hand shake or a simple supportive smile or greeting.
Well it’s 7:30. Time for heading over to the conference. Hmm. Continental breakfast 7:30-8:30; and the plenary starts at 8:30.
Oh Momma … God I remember how you and me and sister used to love continental breakfasts in Europe …
Oh Momma how I miss you …
I miss you so so so so so so so so much …
I love you and I miss you
Oh Jesus please please please please take good care of my good Momma
What wonderful Psalms this morning in OOR & MP … wonderful reminders that here we have no lasting place indeed … and here my bones are crushed and broken … and therefore it seems … all is as it should be …
In a way … in another way O Lord everything is wrong … wrong without my Momma here …
Oh my.
But O God. Thy Will Be Done.
Thy Will Be Done.
God have mercy on me and my Momma
God save my Momma’s sister and her family
God oh God oh God
I love you God I love you Momma
Oh God
Charles Delacroix
Feast of St Casimir
Envy
[I wrote this last night when I was out of town at a professional conference]
Envy ... this is such a challenge. And really that is perhaps my biggest source of unhappiness during this period of Denouement.
Why envy anyone though? All is gift. All is gift. I received everything I have as gift. So did everyone else.
And we all … all of us … are like grass, here today, gone tomorrow …
Why shouldn’t that fill me with a sense of honor and love for everyone who has had the courage and perseverance to try, knowing the inevitable, intractable, end?
Including you Momma … but then that’s true of everyone, everyone.
How much I admire you Momma … for everything you did in your brief time here
How much therefore I also admire everyone for everything each man and woman has done in his or here brief time here?
There’s no place for Envy.
Only for Gratitude.
And now … since you have left, Momma … I guess I feel very, very much like Ken in In Bruges … namely, I just know that I’m not fighting anymore.
Enough. Enough fighting.
So gratefully, slowly, thankfully, as I walk my way off the stage of life, I choose by God’s Grace to just do the Next Right Thing, attend to basics, surrender Envy, and let things unfold until I am Called from this brief life, this vale of tears …
Envy ... this is such a challenge. And really that is perhaps my biggest source of unhappiness during this period of Denouement.
Why envy anyone though? All is gift. All is gift. I received everything I have as gift. So did everyone else.
And we all … all of us … are like grass, here today, gone tomorrow …
Why shouldn’t that fill me with a sense of honor and love for everyone who has had the courage and perseverance to try, knowing the inevitable, intractable, end?
Including you Momma … but then that’s true of everyone, everyone.
How much I admire you Momma … for everything you did in your brief time here
How much therefore I also admire everyone for everything each man and woman has done in his or here brief time here?
There’s no place for Envy.
Only for Gratitude.
And now … since you have left, Momma … I guess I feel very, very much like Ken in In Bruges … namely, I just know that I’m not fighting anymore.
Enough. Enough fighting.
So gratefully, slowly, thankfully, as I walk my way off the stage of life, I choose by God’s Grace to just do the Next Right Thing, attend to basics, surrender Envy, and let things unfold until I am Called from this brief life, this vale of tears …
Aloneness and Intractability
[I wrote this last night when I was out of town at a professional conference]
Oh Momma … you always said everything was better when I was there with you. Oh Momma … how I wish I could share so many, many, many things with you now. And it’s really true. I never, ever really became … well … the kind of person you were: popular, sound of mind and character in a world that you struggled in but which you negotiated, on the whole, with far more success than I was ever able to obtain. Yes … it’s really true. I think there’s been a part of me that, all my life, hoped … hoped that something would happen, something would change, and Charles would become: OK, normal. A man of character and of prudence and of social skill and social ease. And now: for some reason at some very deep level this all seems so far, far, far beyond me. It always was, I think. But I always Hoped for something else. But since you have been gone: I guess Hope is gone for me in this world; and the Intractability of who I am and how isolated and alone I will remain till I follow you from this world has become … well … sort of impossibly changeless and irrelevant and beyond my Here and Now and any Here and Now I can imagine.
Intractability … in the Here and Now … means I really just have an endgame to play out.
Denouement.
Intractability.
What else is there?
Oh Momma … I love you and I miss you so much …
And Momma … I guess really Giving Up isn’t all that horribly painful …
Not much different from Trying is Not Trying Anymore …
No wonder that Stories and Paintings and Pictures and Travel and Travels of the Imagination … both now and in the past … have been always so appealing to the Intractable Charles …
And no wonder I can feel sad indeed but above all really really Grateful … Thankful … to you Momma … to everyone … to even be allowed to be here … for a few years …
Oh Daddy … yes … you too … how improbable everything seems now. I live today … yet if you had died in Bastogne, I had never been conceived, never born, never walked the face of this earth at all. How improbable and how full of grace your gift of life.
An Intractable Life. An Intractable Here and Now.
Yet a Gift. Sheer gift. Sheerest sheerest gift.
Thank you Momma
Thank you Daddy
Thank you all my ancestors
Thank you all
Thank you my Lord Jesus Christ
Thank you God my Father
Thank you O Mary my Mother
Thank you
Oh Momma … you always said everything was better when I was there with you. Oh Momma … how I wish I could share so many, many, many things with you now. And it’s really true. I never, ever really became … well … the kind of person you were: popular, sound of mind and character in a world that you struggled in but which you negotiated, on the whole, with far more success than I was ever able to obtain. Yes … it’s really true. I think there’s been a part of me that, all my life, hoped … hoped that something would happen, something would change, and Charles would become: OK, normal. A man of character and of prudence and of social skill and social ease. And now: for some reason at some very deep level this all seems so far, far, far beyond me. It always was, I think. But I always Hoped for something else. But since you have been gone: I guess Hope is gone for me in this world; and the Intractability of who I am and how isolated and alone I will remain till I follow you from this world has become … well … sort of impossibly changeless and irrelevant and beyond my Here and Now and any Here and Now I can imagine.
Intractability … in the Here and Now … means I really just have an endgame to play out.
Denouement.
Intractability.
What else is there?
Oh Momma … I love you and I miss you so much …
And Momma … I guess really Giving Up isn’t all that horribly painful …
Not much different from Trying is Not Trying Anymore …
No wonder that Stories and Paintings and Pictures and Travel and Travels of the Imagination … both now and in the past … have been always so appealing to the Intractable Charles …
And no wonder I can feel sad indeed but above all really really Grateful … Thankful … to you Momma … to everyone … to even be allowed to be here … for a few years …
Oh Daddy … yes … you too … how improbable everything seems now. I live today … yet if you had died in Bastogne, I had never been conceived, never born, never walked the face of this earth at all. How improbable and how full of grace your gift of life.
An Intractable Life. An Intractable Here and Now.
Yet a Gift. Sheer gift. Sheerest sheerest gift.
Thank you Momma
Thank you Daddy
Thank you all my ancestors
Thank you all
Thank you my Lord Jesus Christ
Thank you God my Father
Thank you O Mary my Mother
Thank you
Courage is the Name of Momma’s Generation: The Just Do It Generation
[I wrote this last night when I was out of town at a professional conference]
Courage is the Name of Momma’s Generation: The Just Do It Generation
OK I’m back from the store. Bought a 10$ Dollar General Store shirt since I’ve managed to make it here with just one shirt.
And then prayed EP from the Office for the Dead for Momma.
You know, when I think about it, Aunt Edna sounds … and has sounded … about her health almost the same as Momma did about hers. She just “does it”: she went to the hospital because it was the Next Right Thing, really. Me, I’m agitated and fearful and feel my heart wrenched for her and for Momma, since she’s Momma’s sister, and of course for me. But that’s me. That generation … Momma and Aunt Edna … they just “do it”. Momma “did it” right up to the end. Oh God. How I admire my Momma and that amazing Greatest Generation.
I wonder … I wonder how Aunt Edna feels deep down … since Momma’s been gone … she says that everyone’s really gone … from her generation …
Maybe she feels that she’s playing out a denouement.
Really so do I. I feel myself as if I’m just playing out an endgame, working through a denouement.
Courage is the Name of Momma’s Generation: The Just Do It Generation
OK I’m back from the store. Bought a 10$ Dollar General Store shirt since I’ve managed to make it here with just one shirt.
And then prayed EP from the Office for the Dead for Momma.
You know, when I think about it, Aunt Edna sounds … and has sounded … about her health almost the same as Momma did about hers. She just “does it”: she went to the hospital because it was the Next Right Thing, really. Me, I’m agitated and fearful and feel my heart wrenched for her and for Momma, since she’s Momma’s sister, and of course for me. But that’s me. That generation … Momma and Aunt Edna … they just “do it”. Momma “did it” right up to the end. Oh God. How I admire my Momma and that amazing Greatest Generation.
I wonder … I wonder how Aunt Edna feels deep down … since Momma’s been gone … she says that everyone’s really gone … from her generation …
Maybe she feels that she’s playing out a denouement.
Really so do I. I feel myself as if I’m just playing out an endgame, working through a denouement.
Alone, Lonely … and Selfish
[I wrote this last night when I was out of town at a professional conference]
Oh Momma … I just realized … one reason I miss you so so much … is so so selfish. You were the only person who actually wanted to see me at the end of the day. Or on any day at any time really. That’s just plain reality.
Oh how painful it was this afternoon … at the end of the Conference for today. I introduced myself to a colleague I’ve spoken too on the phone. She was with two other female counselors … and, honestly, they’re all young and attractive. I was so silly and my social skills, my professional social skills, were horrible at best.
I made it to my motel for the night and felt so so agitated. I thought about going out to see a movie.
Oh God Oh God … I had my cell vol turned down & thought I heard it … and collected a call from Charlotte … Aunt Edna is in the hospital for observation … bad cough & dehydrated, still not eating enough, evidently. I spoke with her and her voice sounded weak and she was coughing. They have her on Zithromax … antibiotic … and an IV drip … all to the good it sounds but Oh God … Oh God … Oh God … please please please … I who deserve nothing, I who have nothing but my Momma’s sister … oh God please please please take good care of my Momma’s sister …
Well I’m staying in … got to watch my bucks really and don’t need to be spending on a movie theater … I can watch cable TV in the motel room … and pray … and say my Office by God’s grace … I need to run out and find a store and buy some cheap food (crackers, PB, probably some pop) enuf to last me the next few days … till Wednesday afternoon when I return to Tulsa …
Oh God Momma .. how I miss you … and how your sister is in my prayers and hopes … and how horribly selfish I know I am but even so dear Lord please please please please please take good care of my Aunt Edna and my Cousin Charlotte and my Cousin Annette and my Cousin Rosanna and my Cousin Arthur Lee and oh …
I love you Lord Jesus
I love you Lord Jesus
I love you Lord Jesus
Oh Momma … I just realized … one reason I miss you so so much … is so so selfish. You were the only person who actually wanted to see me at the end of the day. Or on any day at any time really. That’s just plain reality.
Oh how painful it was this afternoon … at the end of the Conference for today. I introduced myself to a colleague I’ve spoken too on the phone. She was with two other female counselors … and, honestly, they’re all young and attractive. I was so silly and my social skills, my professional social skills, were horrible at best.
I made it to my motel for the night and felt so so agitated. I thought about going out to see a movie.
Oh God Oh God … I had my cell vol turned down & thought I heard it … and collected a call from Charlotte … Aunt Edna is in the hospital for observation … bad cough & dehydrated, still not eating enough, evidently. I spoke with her and her voice sounded weak and she was coughing. They have her on Zithromax … antibiotic … and an IV drip … all to the good it sounds but Oh God … Oh God … Oh God … please please please … I who deserve nothing, I who have nothing but my Momma’s sister … oh God please please please take good care of my Momma’s sister …
Well I’m staying in … got to watch my bucks really and don’t need to be spending on a movie theater … I can watch cable TV in the motel room … and pray … and say my Office by God’s grace … I need to run out and find a store and buy some cheap food (crackers, PB, probably some pop) enuf to last me the next few days … till Wednesday afternoon when I return to Tulsa …
Oh God Momma .. how I miss you … and how your sister is in my prayers and hopes … and how horribly selfish I know I am but even so dear Lord please please please please please take good care of my Aunt Edna and my Cousin Charlotte and my Cousin Annette and my Cousin Rosanna and my Cousin Arthur Lee and oh …
I love you Lord Jesus
I love you Lord Jesus
I love you Lord Jesus
Sunday, March 2, 2008
Cotton-Tailed Bunny in the Rose Garden
Momma, Spooky and I went for a walk yesterday in the Rose Garden and through Woodward Park. A lovely, lovely walk. Although, of course, a lonely walk, without you.
But on the way back to the car, through the Garden, Spooky almost jerked the leash out of my hand. And there, scampering through the rose bushes and down a path, was a big, brown, cotton-tailed rabbit. You would have loved to have seen it ... and to see Spooky straining mightily to chase after it. We would have laughed and talked about it.
Oh Momma I miss you so
Oh Jesus I miss my Momma so
Oh Jesus please please please please please take good care of my good Momma
I love you Momma
I love you Jesus
I love you
Thank you
Charles Delacroix
4th Sunday in Lent
But on the way back to the car, through the Garden, Spooky almost jerked the leash out of my hand. And there, scampering through the rose bushes and down a path, was a big, brown, cotton-tailed rabbit. You would have loved to have seen it ... and to see Spooky straining mightily to chase after it. We would have laughed and talked about it.
Oh Momma I miss you so
Oh Jesus I miss my Momma so
Oh Jesus please please please please please take good care of my good Momma
I love you Momma
I love you Jesus
I love you
Thank you
Charles Delacroix
4th Sunday in Lent
A Child's Garden of Verses
I woke up missing you so, so, so much Momma.
And I looked at the piano ... covered with cards and keepsakes ... and there was A Child's Garden of Verses ... by Robert Louis Stevenson ... full of the inimitable illustrations by Gyo Fujikawa ... in an edition brought out by Grosset & Dunlap in 1957.
I looked and read and remembered and oh Momma ... it's all here ... this was what in so many, many ways was my childhood with you. This was the birth of imagination and the beginning of love of books and stories and this was the picture of the world that was then and in so many ways is now at the very core of what it means to be in this strange and magical and sometimes frightening and sometimes comforting and always appealing world ...
Oh Momma how I miss you ... for this world too is all amiss ... without you ...
And I looked at the piano ... covered with cards and keepsakes ... and there was A Child's Garden of Verses ... by Robert Louis Stevenson ... full of the inimitable illustrations by Gyo Fujikawa ... in an edition brought out by Grosset & Dunlap in 1957.
I looked and read and remembered and oh Momma ... it's all here ... this was what in so many, many ways was my childhood with you. This was the birth of imagination and the beginning of love of books and stories and this was the picture of the world that was then and in so many ways is now at the very core of what it means to be in this strange and magical and sometimes frightening and sometimes comforting and always appealing world ...
Oh Momma how I miss you ... for this world too is all amiss ... without you ...
Saturday, March 1, 2008
Denouement, Sadness, and Gratitude
It's such a beautiful Saturday, here, Momma ... the temperature and weather are downright balmy, springlike. You would love this kind of weather, Momma. Oh how you loved Spring. And Spring is almost here, really. Today is March 1 ... Spring "officially" starts when, March 21? Or is it March 22? Something like that.
Of course Spring without you here, Momma, will be Wrong ... but it will still be Spring. A time of Sadness and of Gratitude and Missing You. But still it will be Spring. Why it should be Spring I do not know. But I know that as God's Providence decrees, so will it be. As you said when you were dying and I was crying out that I didn't know how I would make it without you ... you said, "It's the way things are."
You were right of course. You are right. Oh God. I just don't really know how anyone anywhere makes it through these things. But they do. And so it seems do I. Make it that is. For "it's the way things are." They may be Wrong. But that's not the point. It's the Way Things Are.
The dog and I went for a "walky walky" down at Woodward Park. There were lots of people there. It was delightful ... and painful ... for of course it's all Wrong ... when you are not here. But it's still nice. It's the Way Things Are. Oh I missed you so much ... you ought to be there with us Momma. Oh well. It's the Way Things Are.
I saw a remarkable movie today. In Bruges (2008), just opened here yesterday. http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0780536/. I'm still thinking it over. But really ... really I think what it says to me is Denouement. Two men go to Bruges in order to Wait. They don't know what they are Waiting for. And it turns out that they are Waiting for their own Deaths. Their life in Bruges is a life of Waiting for Death. It is a life that is Denouement. That reminded me of course of that strong, strong, constant sense ... a year ago and more ... that my life, bound gladly to yours, Momma, was a life of Denouement. Denouement that you and I played out to the very, very end. To the bitter end.
And now ... what is my life? Here-and-Now, that is? Well ... really ... Denouement.
I live here in my own Bruges and there are remarkable things there, really, and even if I wish, like the characters in In Bruges, that I were somewhere else ... living Life rather than living a Denouement and waiting for Death ... well, though, the reality is the reality: "It's the way things are."
There's so much indeed to be sad about while Waiting for Death. Losing you, Momma, is quite simply the most devastating catastrophe ever, for me, in my Hear-and-Now. Losing Buckley is a very, very great loss to me as to so many. Losing my marriage, my health, my ... family. These are very great losses. Denouement is partly about mourning those losses, isn't it? And mourn I do. Oh how I miss you Momma. H0w I miss ... everything. Everything.
Yet at the same time it's almost impossible not to simultaneously feel a deep, deep sense of Gratitude.
Gratitude Momma that you were my Momma ... gratitude for all the many, many, many, many things you have given me.
Gratitude for Buckley and his many gifts
Gratitude for ... yes, even, in a way, for Dad. For his gifts. And such as they were, they were gifts.
Gratitude for my marriage. Lost indeed. But oh what a gift to be allowed to experience this wonderful thing for even so short a time.
Gratitude for work and play and for Spooky and for everything, everything.
In In Bruges, there seems to be a sense of history everywhere. And a sense of the connection of History Past with the Here-and-Now of History Present. Awkward, jagged connections. But those connections are undeniable. And O Lord how Grateful I am for all those who have gone before; for the History of the Church even when Post-Christian Bruges, like Post-Christian Europe, seems most distant from her own History. O how Grateful I am for everyone and everything ... and for the sheer privilege of my being allowed to take a few steps for a few days and few years in this old world ... before I too wither away and join History Past.
History ... History Present in the Here-and-Now ... History Past in the There-and-Then ... to be allowed admission to this History ... as the old Greek Chorus cried out, "Of Your Courtesty, admit me to this History" ... what Grace and Courtesy that little Charles Delacroix should be allowed admission to this History indeed.
To *this* History. Oh there are so many, many, many things I wish were different; there are so many, many, many ways in which I wish this History were different.
But really ... these days ... it's *this* History for which I feel Gratitude. This History ... this Here-and-Now and that There-and-Then. This History ... the one of which Momma you rightly said "It's the Way Things Are".
What do I know. I mean really. Little more ... probably much less ... than the characters In Bruges ... and so what? All may seem Futile ... my own plodding through my long days in Denouement may seem Futile ... but This History is Your History O God. And therefore like Father Job I bow my head, even as I weep, and repent in dust and ashes and acknowledge that all that is is Yours. Today ... Here-and-Now ... and There-and-Then ... "it's the Way Things Are" ... and as my life winds on down through this Historical Denouement that is mine, I feel great sadness indeed, but also great, great Gratitude O Lord for the gift of my short life, and for this Historical Denouement that is The Way Things Are.
Oh my. Oh me. Oh Momma how I miss you.
Oh Lord Jesus of Your Courtesy please please please please pleasee take good care of my Momma
Thank You Lord Jesus ... for everything
Thank you Momma ... for only slightly less than everything.
Thank you all.
I love you and thank you.
Charles Delacroix
Eve of the 4th Week in Lent
Of course Spring without you here, Momma, will be Wrong ... but it will still be Spring. A time of Sadness and of Gratitude and Missing You. But still it will be Spring. Why it should be Spring I do not know. But I know that as God's Providence decrees, so will it be. As you said when you were dying and I was crying out that I didn't know how I would make it without you ... you said, "It's the way things are."
You were right of course. You are right. Oh God. I just don't really know how anyone anywhere makes it through these things. But they do. And so it seems do I. Make it that is. For "it's the way things are." They may be Wrong. But that's not the point. It's the Way Things Are.
The dog and I went for a "walky walky" down at Woodward Park. There were lots of people there. It was delightful ... and painful ... for of course it's all Wrong ... when you are not here. But it's still nice. It's the Way Things Are. Oh I missed you so much ... you ought to be there with us Momma. Oh well. It's the Way Things Are.
I saw a remarkable movie today. In Bruges (2008), just opened here yesterday. http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0780536/. I'm still thinking it over. But really ... really I think what it says to me is Denouement. Two men go to Bruges in order to Wait. They don't know what they are Waiting for. And it turns out that they are Waiting for their own Deaths. Their life in Bruges is a life of Waiting for Death. It is a life that is Denouement. That reminded me of course of that strong, strong, constant sense ... a year ago and more ... that my life, bound gladly to yours, Momma, was a life of Denouement. Denouement that you and I played out to the very, very end. To the bitter end.
And now ... what is my life? Here-and-Now, that is? Well ... really ... Denouement.
I live here in my own Bruges and there are remarkable things there, really, and even if I wish, like the characters in In Bruges, that I were somewhere else ... living Life rather than living a Denouement and waiting for Death ... well, though, the reality is the reality: "It's the way things are."
There's so much indeed to be sad about while Waiting for Death. Losing you, Momma, is quite simply the most devastating catastrophe ever, for me, in my Hear-and-Now. Losing Buckley is a very, very great loss to me as to so many. Losing my marriage, my health, my ... family. These are very great losses. Denouement is partly about mourning those losses, isn't it? And mourn I do. Oh how I miss you Momma. H0w I miss ... everything. Everything.
Yet at the same time it's almost impossible not to simultaneously feel a deep, deep sense of Gratitude.
Gratitude Momma that you were my Momma ... gratitude for all the many, many, many, many things you have given me.
Gratitude for Buckley and his many gifts
Gratitude for ... yes, even, in a way, for Dad. For his gifts. And such as they were, they were gifts.
Gratitude for my marriage. Lost indeed. But oh what a gift to be allowed to experience this wonderful thing for even so short a time.
Gratitude for work and play and for Spooky and for everything, everything.
In In Bruges, there seems to be a sense of history everywhere. And a sense of the connection of History Past with the Here-and-Now of History Present. Awkward, jagged connections. But those connections are undeniable. And O Lord how Grateful I am for all those who have gone before; for the History of the Church even when Post-Christian Bruges, like Post-Christian Europe, seems most distant from her own History. O how Grateful I am for everyone and everything ... and for the sheer privilege of my being allowed to take a few steps for a few days and few years in this old world ... before I too wither away and join History Past.
History ... History Present in the Here-and-Now ... History Past in the There-and-Then ... to be allowed admission to this History ... as the old Greek Chorus cried out, "Of Your Courtesty, admit me to this History" ... what Grace and Courtesy that little Charles Delacroix should be allowed admission to this History indeed.
To *this* History. Oh there are so many, many, many things I wish were different; there are so many, many, many ways in which I wish this History were different.
But really ... these days ... it's *this* History for which I feel Gratitude. This History ... this Here-and-Now and that There-and-Then. This History ... the one of which Momma you rightly said "It's the Way Things Are".
What do I know. I mean really. Little more ... probably much less ... than the characters In Bruges ... and so what? All may seem Futile ... my own plodding through my long days in Denouement may seem Futile ... but This History is Your History O God. And therefore like Father Job I bow my head, even as I weep, and repent in dust and ashes and acknowledge that all that is is Yours. Today ... Here-and-Now ... and There-and-Then ... "it's the Way Things Are" ... and as my life winds on down through this Historical Denouement that is mine, I feel great sadness indeed, but also great, great Gratitude O Lord for the gift of my short life, and for this Historical Denouement that is The Way Things Are.
Oh my. Oh me. Oh Momma how I miss you.
Oh Lord Jesus of Your Courtesy please please please please pleasee take good care of my Momma
Thank You Lord Jesus ... for everything
Thank you Momma ... for only slightly less than everything.
Thank you all.
I love you and thank you.
Charles Delacroix
Eve of the 4th Week in Lent
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