Blessed Are The Pure Of Heart: December 2020

Thursday, December 31, 2020

The Year Of Missed Opportunity

So many people are saying Good Riddance to 2020.

But it was just a year; a year that taught us something about ourselves.

Something we maybe didn't want to know.

It slinks away, rejected,

the ugly year that was,

but I think we have neglected

the blessings brought, because

we had thought that we deserved

a blissful upward rise,

Elysium gaily preserved,

and then came the surprise

that nature’s not ours to command,

and nor are human hearts;

these things we did not understand

when all things fell apart

could have kept us safe from harms

had we but leaned into His arms.

Music from Poison, with Something To Believe In.

Thanks to Carol Ashby, Blessed Are The Pure Of Heart is back on Kindle, and will be available in paperback soon.

Friends are everything. I couldn't have done it.

Below are my recent releases on Kindle -please excuse their presence in the body of the blog. I haven't the energy to get them up as 'buttons' in the sidebar. You can click on the covers to go to the Amazon links.

Thursday, December 24, 2020

Merry Christmas!

Who says beloved Christmas carol can't be updated?

In the bleak midwinter

(well, 'bleak' may be a reach),

I did find faith's center

while drinking on a beach.

In far-off Jamaica

I beheld the Face

of my Lord and Saviour,

and I felt the Grace

of the love I knew did come

from His sweet sad eyes;

no, dude, it was not the rum,

nor the tropic skies.

True, it was, as true can be,

the love that flowed on down

from most Holy God to me

outside Kingston Town.

Lime Cay's where I found the strength

to put off bad old ways

and learned to measure my life-length

in hope, and not in days.

Thus, what off'ring can I bring,

how can I play my part?

Hey, now, I know just the thing,

my mended rum-soaked heart.

Music from Christafari, with Angels, We Have Heard On High.

Thanks to Carol Ashby, Blessed Are The Pure Of Heart is back on Kindle, and will be available in paperback soon.

Friends are everything. I couldn't have done it.

Thursday, December 17, 2020

To Joe, With Love

I know it's a modern world, but I'm obsolete and proud to be...and it's hard, being a bloke, to say, "I love you" to another bloke.

Nonetheless...I love you, Joe, even though we only met through the blogosphere.

Cheers, mate. Sorry you got the chop. See you in the smoke.

RIP Joe Siccardi, December 14, 2020

And now you are but memory,

receding to the past,

proof again of certainty

that beauty cannot last

upon the hard and bitter shore,

the emblem of our fallen place,

so far from the Golden Door,

so far from shining grace.

I do not want to see your smile

fade in mists of yesterday

as every passing hour and mile

forbid my breaking heart to stay

to bask in your warm company

on this side of Eternity.

Music from the Goo Goo Dolls, with Better Days, my favourite Christmas song. (If your device doesn't load the video, please click here.)

hanks to Carol Ashby, Blessed Are The Pure Of Heart is back on Kindle, and will be available in paperback soon.

Friends are everything. I couldn't have done it.

Thursday, December 10, 2020

The Thief

We think of the devil as a thief. We think of fear as a thief.

Rod Stewart sang that time is a thief.

All true, each in its own way. But I'm not talking about the devil or fear or time, here.

I'm talking about me.

I'm a thief, for in my way of dealing with terminal illness...being a joking, flippant hardass...I've taken something from my wife, the emotion to which she, in a married relationship, is entitled/

What she's been denied is best illustrated in Randy Pausch's The Last Lecture" (he himself died of pancreatic cancer):

As we held each other, Jai whispered something in my ear.

“Please don’t die.”

It sounds like Hollywood dialogue. But that’s what she said. I just hugged her more tightly.

Honestly, it makes me cringe to quote that. Both for the weak-suck attitude it shows, and for my own deficiency.

Something like this could never take place here, because I've taken the line that it's best to laugh into death's face, treat cancer as a jolly joke, and through sardonic humour prove myself indomitable.

So Barb knows not to 'go there', even if she feels it, for I'd just deflect the emotion with a quote, perhaps, from Thor: "I have no plans to die today." (It comes close to the end of this short clip...click here if it doesn't come up on your device.)

You push aside a person's concern, and you're really pushing the person away.

And worse, it sets a kind of example..."If he doesn't care about his own death, how can I care about his...or mine?"

And thus, the transition from hardass to dumbass...in trying to make the situation a bit easier, I've made it much, much worse.

Can this be rectified? Though I'm not a pshrink, I'd have to say, No. What I wanted to become is now what I am, and there's no 'inner child' that can be reached. The kid's been killed. Any attempt at reaching 'him' will only be an act, and as anyone who went to high school with me knows, I'm a crappy actor.

But I can just shut up. I can open my heart and close my mouth and listen, and maybe, through the grace of God, some humanity can retutn to moderate what I am, and point me toward what I should be.

Day by day, I keep on going,

laugh at pain beyond belief

while deep in my heart the knowing

that I have become a thief.

I joke about conditions dire,

jest that I’ve not long to live,

while realizing you require

to give what only you can give,

the comfort offered in the holding,

wiping tears from anguished face,

but you’re fearful of a scolding

for I am of a another race,

a people always playing cool,

which effort only plays the fool.

Music from Bryan Adams, with Summer of '69. (Please click here if the video doesn't come up for you.)

Thanks to Carol Ashby, Blessed Are The Pure Of Heart is back on Kindle, and will be available in paperback soon.

Friends are everything. I couldn't have done it.

Thursday, December 3, 2020

Only if I Die

How bad is bad?

A quarter of a cup of blood from the lungs every few hours; that seems to be bad. (Or maybe it's good, that the metastatic tumours are bleeding, I have them on the run, yeah?).

Pain is beyond anything I could have described. Sleep is out of reach, there's only an eerie doze lit with dreams I don't want to recall.

There's no Care Team, but that may be a good thing. I can't look to a magician for salvation, nor for a prognostication..."How long have I got, Doc?"

I'm on my own, with nothing left but the determination not to die. And that's the way it should be. This is my fight. Not that of some doctor, or some insurance adjuster.

I love my wife and my dogs so much. Maybe I'm supposed to 'fall into the arms of Jesus and let go.' I have been told this, more than once.

Maybe later.

I am staying. (And since present is the Five Minute Friday prompt this wek, I igure I have that covered.)

There is no more the world can do,

there is nowhere to hide,

and there’s only one way through

to the other side

of this vale of blood and tears,

if another side exists,

and that’s to put aside my fears

and with all strength resist

temptation to give up the fight,

to rest, now, and give in,

for even in this fading light,

I still think I can win.

This may kill me; it will try,

but I’ll only be dead if I die.

This clip from Avengers: Infinity War says it best. (Click here if your device loadeth not the video.)

Thanks to Carol Ashby, Blessed Are The Pure Of Heart is back on Kindle, and will be available in paperback soon.

Friends are everything. I couldn't have done it.