The time has come to say goodbye. I’m not sure why I can’t, but I really want to cry. Has my well of tears gone dry? Perhaps I have simply accepted that the time has come for you to die.
On our last night together, I was showered by your flow of tears. Together, we embarked on an impossible journey as we chose to ignore our fears. Reality has slapped us in the face. Now we both must face our spouses and children with disgrace.
Yesterday, outside my window, a mockingbird sang. Early this morning, in a lonely corner, my house phone rang. I let it ring and ring, while looking out the window, hoping to hear any bird sing.
In hopes the caller would give up, I continued to let the phone ring. He didn’t hang up. Dad knew I was home. His instructions were clear. I knew what to bring. The time had come to keep my word. The promise I made him in the presence of a lively mockingbird.
On that day, as the mockingbird sang, with his weak voice, he said, “There is no better way, to spend my last day. Please hold my hand, until you feel my last breath. The pain I feel now, may be worse than death.”
In a crackling voice, he went on to say, “Son, I am dying. There is no sense in crying. When the time comes, I need you to be strong. I need to know you’re going to be okay, after I am gone.”
I once thought he moved to Oregon to be close to mom, his one and only bride. He confessed that long ago, he decided on assisted suicide. He chose me, his only son, to be by his bedside. As painful as this was, his wish was something that could not be denied.
After countless rings, I answered the phone. In a soft and weak whisper, he said, “It’s time. Please come alone.”
Angel of mine. You took me under your wing and taught me all that you know. To continue your work, you recently confessed that you chose me a long time ago.
Angel of mine. Life dealt you a deathblow. From this earth, you have departed. I don’t know why, but you have placed your trust in me and you have blessed me with the task to finish what you have started.
You kept me company as long as you could. Oh, how I miss you Angel of Mine. As if asking for my permission, you left once I said, “It’s ok. I’m up for the task. I will be fine.”
Enough! Enough! Enough!
Yes! Enough of your prayers! Enough of your kind words! Enough of your thoughts! They no longer console me and they will never replace what I have lost!
ENOUGH is no longer enough! No more prayers! I am tired of your kind words and warm thoughts! They do not prevent anyone from killing me in a bar, school or a concert parking lot. Enough talk! I want to feel safe when I stand on my sidewalk.
I stand tall, proud and strong when I vote and even when I walk. From my politicians, I demand some straight talk! I urge them to speak the truth! I challenge them to do what’s right! This should not be a political fight! I think about this every time I visit my daughter’s gravesite. She always spoke the truth. In my darkest hours, she was my shining light.
No more prayers! Enough talk! Enough moments of silence! From the problem, they are a mere distraction! I need more! To find a solution, as a country, we must take action! This is America’s fight. To fight it, requires more than a single party’s political might. To win it, our parties must unite! Enough with the bullshit! Get off your ass! It’s time to do what’s right!
I know your intentions are good, so please don’t get me wrong. But you must understand, the moral fabric of this country is no longer strong. No, those days are gone. The population was less and the circumstances were different in 1791.
It’s been two hundred and twenty-seven years since the Second Amendment was ratified stating that our right to bear arms shall not be infringed. Times have changed. It says nothing about preventing a once healthy soldier and patriot from killing me when his sanity becomes unhinged. Yes, it’s time for change.
Not only should we embrace change, but we must also create it when it is necessary. Our country is at war. Not with other countries, but with our own. We never expected or planned for this type of adversary. The kind that does not think twice when dishing out bullets and sending American Heroes to the cemetery.
I don’t mean to appear ungrateful and I certainly don’t pretend to have all the answers. So please, no more prayers. You may need them when you too have to visit your loved one’s grave because your prayers to keep them safe at school went unanswered.
I am beautiful.
Yes, I am beautiful. Perhaps not as stunning as an October moon. I may not even compare to the beauty of the June gloom, but I am beautiful.
Yes, I am beautiful. My beauty does not resemble that of a shining star, but I am beautiful. Some may consider my face is not worthy of receiving a simple caress. In that case, I don’t stress, for I know I am beautiful.
As I look in the mirror, I confirm my beauty. Perhaps you disagree. That’s ok. I don’t live my life to be your cutie.
I am beautiful.
“How is life?” is a question I’m often asked. Since I live in ‘the now’, I refuse to worry about the future or dwell on the past.
The question seems to come from people who do not understand the concept of living in ‘the now’. Many of them truly believe I own a cash cow. “How do you do it?”, they ask. “Even in the worst of situations, you remain calm and you always wear a happy mask.”
I’ve heard this question so much that I have perfected my answer. It’s clear, concise and direct. “It could be better or it could be worse. But right now, it’s perfect.”
In this world filled with sadness and pain, I’m blessed to be alive, employed and healthy. I’m surrounded by my children whom I love and respect. So yes, my life could be better or it could be worse. But right now, it’s perfect.
The time has come. Join me in my walk. We need to talk.
There is much I need to say. My news will hurt, but please do not look away. I want to see the glow in your eyes. I want to remember you that way.
Through thick and thin, you have stood by my side. For many years, I’ve been very ill. We both knew this day would come. It’s time to read you my will.
Doctor Mintz was wrong. I won’t live very long. The cancer has spread. In fact, he wonders why I’m not dead. My faith and will to live are strong and they have often proven science wrong.
Can you feel the wind caressing your face? How about the sun warming your skin? Can you hear the birds chirping? These things are my favorite part of my daily walks. When I’m gone, celebrate my life by remembering and sharing our talks.