Ready For The Satin Pillow

Death is personal, isn't it?

Whatever we've done - raising kids, living alone, collecting clay pots, raising cattle on the edge of a desert during a drought - is done after we're done.

Our loves and our losses go with us. The living go on with the loss of our love intact but losing intensity like a mountain disappearing in fog.

Old grievances may be reinterpreted by succeeding generations.

We get back to the pebble in the pond.

Statements made behind closed doors echo strangely amplified, the decay effect bouncing baby waves, too.

Best to air the grievances and begrudging statements as if all can hear, rather than install fear and confusion in descendants who have no idea why they repeat your inexplicable behaviour after you're dead.

I heard a father say, "Son, tell them what you want to be when you grow up," the father's face red with pride. The son replied, "I want to be a sniper and kill Muslims."

I asked them if they knew any Muslims. They did not. They only knew that Muslims hate America (their knowledge imparted to them by a select few media outlets/pundits, including the images shown on TV of cheering crowds in the Middle East after the attacks of 9/11/01).

I told them about American Muslim friends of mine willing to defend the same American dream as the patriotic father and son in front of me.

The conversation changed.

I'm not an evangelist - I don't preach or proselytise. I can only look to our future and project backward what this moment needs to be for us to succeed within the ecosystems available to us.

Resources.

Friends have told me my recent blog entries cast doubt like a dark, suspicious shadow on the moment and into the future.

The effect was intentional. I wanted to clear the air and to do so required stirring up dust, not sweeping it under the rug. I'll do it again, I'm sure.

I will repeat myself when our future requires such.

Happiness and humour are two squirrels chasing each other for fun, despite snakes and hawks lurking nearby.

Thanks to the Rogersville Produce Market, Jimmy and Whitney at McKinney's Restaurant in Hale Springs Inn and Sweet Creams making a delivery after a death in the family. Congrats to Williams, McBee, Hopson and Pearl in the win over VCU.

My friends in the cartel business are just as curious about the special request I'll call them for as the call the NCAA's going to make soon.

Have you ever been made or tagged because of your call sign?

Who's the Equaliser in your life? What's the last thing you want to be remembered for after you're gone?

Life goes on without us but our children's children's children['s children['s children...]...] depend on the actions we made right now while we're alive.

Let us find reason (rather than reasons) and logic in whatever triggers our emotional outbursts. We are not lemons or lemmings (or even lemurs, I don't think). We can choose the financial sources for our mortgages and information resources for family rearing without resorting to stereotypes.