Mumbling To Myself As the Death Watch Continues

LIFE GOES ON

My father has had terminal cancer for about a year ( I think). Now the cancer is winning. Very soon, I will no longer be able to call my once-estranged father to ask him how the pond is looking, how many fish he caught, or what he is watching on television. Somehow, Source allowed me to stop calling him (my Mom, my brother, my sister, and one Lemon Choice Brockstin III [whom I first dialed by accident and then on purpose], my Aunt Nanie, and a few others) to ask for money. I am sure that Dad (and the others just mentioned inside parentheses eerily similar to the ones that cage this astonishing sentence)  are as glad to not receive these calls as I am to not make them.

My cell phone is placed on vibrate when I lay down to sleep. Not these days. Basically, I want to know when the pain is over for Dad. He has not been Ward Cleaver and I have not been Wally. So what? I have been forgiven for many more things than  I have (or will ever) forgive. I think of that as the manifestation of the grace that comes from Source.

I forgave my Dad for a host of issues which were caused by genetics, DNA, genetic predisposition, alcoholism, having a controlling and wicked asshole for a father, and being exposed to the chemical equivalent of the stuff that created the Toxic Avenger every day for decades as he slaved away at achieving the American Dream in a stinking, hot, factory. Also, I could have been a little bit less weird when I was a kid. Dad would have liked that.

Thank God for my brother. He was the son Dad always wanted and who wouldn't? Thank God for my sister. She is probably the one human being who taught Dad all of the things that St. Dennis Catholic Church failed to teach him, you know--- THE IMORTANT STUFF!

I feel honored that my sister, my brother, my mother, my Aunt Nanie, and my sweet Mamaw signed on to be living angels for some of us who really needed to evolve. My Dad became a living angel, also. His heart was pure. He worked hard to help people. He is leaving this world without anyone hating him. He is leaving with the knowledge of the power of forgiveness from both sides of that sacred and holy experience.

BE AWARE: WORDS OF WISDOM OR REGURGITATION OF SOMEONE ELSE'S REAL WORLDS OF WISDOM AHEAD!!!

 Just in case you don't know this: Forgiveness is the SHIT!

Forgiving is like taking a shower from the inside out. It is freedom and it does not matter if the person we forgive deserves it or not.

Being forgiven is like someone giving you the key to a prison cell that you have built for yourself with bricks of selfishness or unenlightened actions . When you are forgiven (especially if you don't "deserve it"), you remember why you were in that prison cell for so long. If you have the cognitive ability to truly appreciate the experience, the knowingness that comes with being forgiven is like looking up and seeing the sheer power and beauty of a full moon or looking into the face of brand new little baby: it is hope, joy, resolve, and gratitude. The flickering light inside begins to glow brighter and it doesn't flicker so much---unless of course the demons that live in our abdomens and were implanted there by the Lord, or Satan or one of THOSE guys lets loose with a big fart and then the light flickers again. Fortunately, this does not happen that often.

All I know this morning is: I love my Dad, his wife, all my nieces and nephews, my family, and I hate nobody. I am a tad focused on the pain my Dad is in and I hope he passes soon. He is cashed and he knows it. I look forward to the night Dad comes to me in a dream with fishing gear. He will flash that smile at me: the one he had before life, alcoholism, and daily exposure to toxic chemicals at his job took so much of the joy out of it. I am sure it will be like the smile he had when he mustered the last of his strength to get on a stage at the end of his life and hit those high notes he had not been able to pull off for decades. That kind of smile. And he will just look at me and say "Well, I don't know if we'll do any good but lets try her". In this dream, Dad will let me catch more fish than he does. That'll be a new one!

Peace. Light. Love------Namaste for now. So mote it be.

ONE LAST THING

I am coming for you Kitchen Kompact of Jeffersonville, Indiana. You built your Valhalla golf course with those you poisoned and killed. They were your happy slaves. At times, you portrayed yourselves as being good masters. However, I am here. Unfortunately for you (and for me) I have not yet ascended to the top of some mountain in glowing saffron robes.

 There will be no violence against you or anyone in your company.

Gonna go you one better.

I am going to get the names and medical records of every human being who died as the result of the cancerous stuff that filled that big torture room you called a factory. Think class action lawsuit. Think Love Canal.

You will sell that golf course (if you didn't already sell it and invest in Haliburton or Lockeed-Martin). You (or your heirs or your board of directors) will file bankruptcy. That will be a little embarrassing on Derby Day when you are swilling Mint Juleps in your sky box.

You'll barely notice, however, and you will sleep well every night until you stare into the void my Dad is staring into tonight. That will happen when some of the cells in your body decide even they are not immune to the chemical damage they suffered while you bravely walked out onto the factory floor to show the workers that you were like them. You bastards.

Someone from the family who owns that place is going to be forced to sit at a table and watch a slide presentation of what your chemicals and your production process did to the brains, livers, stomachs, skin, bones, and other organs of your happy slaves. And you will have to stare into the eyes of the broken and the sad. Then you will write them all nice fat checks which I hope they will use to hold other companies accountable for what you have done and continue to do. My father forgave you long ago and he mistook your "kind" gestures as genuine although I know you were just covering your asses. Peace and Light to you----and remember that when cancer or some other disease breaks YOU, you will get your chance to make it right. God bless you and may your lawyers protect you from financial devastation until you finally understand what God, or blessing, or forgiveness mean.