Of Geese and Frogs and Rain and God and Country

Oh Momma ... oh Momma ...

It was so good tonite to see all those geese walking around the cemetery ... just east of you Momma ... oh how you would have smiled to see them. ... how we would have talked & laughed about them ...

I went over east and spent a little time at the Avenue of Flags and the Monuments to the Medal of Honor holders from Oklahoma ... and read the plaques celebrating the history of our Country in Flags.

I read some of the grave markers over there ... all servicemen & women and their spouses ... all, all from your generation Momma ... the Greatest Generation.

I felt so very, very sad .... oh God oh Momma how I miss you ... and I felt so sad that all these have passed ... and at the same time I felt so very, very, very grateful for all of these men and women ... and most of all for you Momma ... oh Momma ... oh Momma ... thank you, thankyou so so so so so so much.

It's raining now ... and Momma I could hear the little peepers croaking in the back yard ... we would have talked about them, wouldn't we Momma, about how much they must love this rain .. and about how Spooky wouldn't particularly like this rain ... "she no like wet," I would say. "No ... she no like wet," you would smile. She's in the garage now Momma ... nice and dry ... :-)

There's a tribute on OETA to Bob Dylan ... with footage of him and Joan Baez and Peter, Paul & Mary ... amazing ... these were in the generation just before me ...

Tempus fugit

Sic transit gloria mundi

I felt so strongly, Momma, that feeling of futilitates ... still do ... but oh ... oh oh oh Lord Jesus ... be here with me now and be the Answer for all of this ... only You ... only You are the answer.

Walk with me and before me and in me O Lord ... I can't stumble down this Way of the Cross if You are not Here & Now to stumble with me ... on Your Way of the Cross you Fell Three Times ... O Lord my falls are many and hard and daily and hourly and more it seems ... be here with me please O Lord ... without You I cannot make it ...

If I make my bed in hell, Thou art there ... Ps 139,8

Then O Lord may I make my bed daily, nightly, in this hell of futilitates ... of a world bereft of Momma ... and of meaning ... apart from thee. In this hell be with me O Lord ...

I love you

I love you

I love you and thank you

Charles Delacroix
St Teresa Benedicta of the Cross
Oh St "Edith Stein" pray for us