You Might Want to Skip This
I remembered tonight the time I tried to talk someone out of getting an abortion. She was twelve weeks pregnant, ready to vacuum her uterus clean, while I was trying desperately to get pregnant.
I wonder if she still hates me.
I thought of my dad today. He's been dead for almost sixteen years. Since he's been gone, computers have become mainstream. He once built one from a kit--and programmed it with cassette tapes. He died before everyone had cell phones in their pockets and video cameras in their closets. There are a few mysteries. For instance, what ever happened to his handgun? I found bullets, but no gun. Also, what was in the locked briefcase that I willingly handed over to a woman friend of his--she told me it contained letters and pictures from her children to my dad. (He'd been a mentor of sorts to her children.) I never quite believed her and I wish I had pried the lock open instead of giving the case to her.
When the phone rang at 10:00 p.m. and he'd leave the house, where was he going? Who left roses at his grave every week for the first year after he died?
These are things I wonder.
I remember tonight that winter day in college when I rode in van full of my friends. We were taking a fellow student, our friend, to the airport. He'd been kicked out of Bible college for drinking with my friend, a girl of seventeen, who was underage. The underage part wasn't why he was kicked out, though. Drinking alcohol was so against the rules at that midwestern college. I sobbed on the snowy days and for days after wept, wondering what just happened. He had been a potential boyfriend--we'd danced around the idea for almost the entire year before--and then he picked up my friend, the one who'd attended that college based on my recommendation--and they'd gone out, drinking.
Betrayal, loss, stupidity. That was a bad year for me and not such a good year for him, either. Our friendship flickered on and off for a few years after that and died a sudden death before my wedding. I wonder if he still hates me.
A local church just built a new building. The plan was to expand their existing food bank which served almost two thousand people a month, but not enough money came in for the project, so the food bank, which has existed for years, was shut down. I wonder what Jesus would think about that. I know people who've had to use food banks and sometimes, a food bank is what stands between you and your kids going to bed hungry.
What a cheery post! To bed I go, hopefully to dream happy dreams and not dreams filled with mysteries and faces of those who aren't fond of me.
I wonder if she still hates me.
I thought of my dad today. He's been dead for almost sixteen years. Since he's been gone, computers have become mainstream. He once built one from a kit--and programmed it with cassette tapes. He died before everyone had cell phones in their pockets and video cameras in their closets. There are a few mysteries. For instance, what ever happened to his handgun? I found bullets, but no gun. Also, what was in the locked briefcase that I willingly handed over to a woman friend of his--she told me it contained letters and pictures from her children to my dad. (He'd been a mentor of sorts to her children.) I never quite believed her and I wish I had pried the lock open instead of giving the case to her.
When the phone rang at 10:00 p.m. and he'd leave the house, where was he going? Who left roses at his grave every week for the first year after he died?
These are things I wonder.
I remember tonight that winter day in college when I rode in van full of my friends. We were taking a fellow student, our friend, to the airport. He'd been kicked out of Bible college for drinking with my friend, a girl of seventeen, who was underage. The underage part wasn't why he was kicked out, though. Drinking alcohol was so against the rules at that midwestern college. I sobbed on the snowy days and for days after wept, wondering what just happened. He had been a potential boyfriend--we'd danced around the idea for almost the entire year before--and then he picked up my friend, the one who'd attended that college based on my recommendation--and they'd gone out, drinking.
Betrayal, loss, stupidity. That was a bad year for me and not such a good year for him, either. Our friendship flickered on and off for a few years after that and died a sudden death before my wedding. I wonder if he still hates me.
A local church just built a new building. The plan was to expand their existing food bank which served almost two thousand people a month, but not enough money came in for the project, so the food bank, which has existed for years, was shut down. I wonder what Jesus would think about that. I know people who've had to use food banks and sometimes, a food bank is what stands between you and your kids going to bed hungry.
What a cheery post! To bed I go, hopefully to dream happy dreams and not dreams filled with mysteries and faces of those who aren't fond of me.
posted by Melodee at Tuesday, August 02, 2005
4 Comments:
Oh! i know jsut how you feel. well, not just how you feel. but i could identify with your post. i feel kind of bleh as well, but for different reasons. but bleh is still bleh, for whatever reason.
i hope your tomorrow is a little better :D
I prefer honesty over perkiness any day.
My face isn't much to look at, but it does look fondly at you.
Aren't you the one who was, several days ago, bemoaning the lack of a narrative pattern in your life? Looks like you've had a lot of sub-plots at least. Subplots are better than no plot. And when you're in a plot, you don't know it until it's over, do you? The big one is arcing over your head.
Oh, I know there is at least one guy out there who totally hates my guts. Probably two, but one for sure!
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