September 24, 2013
Shane needs her lens replaced
and her cornea sutured, in her right eye, ASAP. The doctor said time is of essence because the
cornea has a tear and the contents of her eyeball could burst through the tear,
and she would lose her eye.
I’m going to get up early
tomorrow morning and start my search for a sack of money along the roadside.
And after I find it, I’m going to call up that doctor and say “Schedule the
surgery doc! We found a sack of money by the road and we’re ready!”
I've always been a fan of
good fortune. Clean living, pure thoughts and prayer never did me much good.
And my hard-work ethic has always been profitable for the company that employed
me. But when Lady Luck smiles my way, I recognize it for what it is, and an
inner smile of gratitude pervades the very soul of me and gives me comfort.
When trouble comes, I know
that good luck is just around the corner. Religion works pretty much the same
way. It soothes and comforts, but for the price of selling your soul to the
devil in the white collar, who has a plan all laid out for your life which
includes a profit for his company, the church. Someone once said that a sucker
is born every minute, but the religions of the world know for a fact that the
frequency is much higher.
Shane can’t see anything with
her right eye. When the left one is covered, the right just rolls around looking for something
that she knows is there but won’t come into view. My little girl is in a stew
of trouble but she doesn’t even know it. Or else she just has some instinctive
wisdom that keeps her happiness afloat. With a regular habit of giggling with
delight, she knows that life is both fun and funny. I keep trying to figure out
what natural phenomenon that is, and why I’ve allowed it to be taken away and
replaced with a fear for living without a god, the bible and the chosen
messenger who can show me the way to happiness while I tread through a world of
sin and the certain destruction of my soul if I don’t believe. Our Father,
indeed!
Shane will be fine. Emelie and I will make sure she is.
It’s 4 AM . She just got up to pee and see what Hon Hon
is doing. She’s sitting right beside me at the kitchen table, drawing monsters
on paper while I type. Heads are circles, half circles, triangles and squares
(she likes sponge bob). It’s a joint project. I’m assigned the task of putting
on the hands and arms. She does the body, legs and feet. I don’t have to do a
perfect job. She’s no critic.
It’s hard to keep her voice
at a whisper while everyone else sleeps. Just that excitement in her that is so
familiar to all of us. It can’t be contained or quieted. When I go back to
sleep in a little while, she will do her best to keep me awake until I ask her
to leave me alone, for the umpteenth time. And then she’ll nod off until dawn.
When she wakes up, I need to be fresh and ready for a full day of questions,
suggestions and an invitation to join in whatever activity she has in mind.
Didn't know I could do this
childhood thing again, but the second time is all the fun without the scraped
knees, disappointments and bewilderments of being a 4 year-old in a world of
insane adults who can’t seem to remember what it’s like to make enjoyment a
priority.
I’m learning.
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