7:: cussing the calendar
This Sunday the calendar will tell me it has been seven years since I held him. I will call it a bold-faced liar…a son of a motherless goat…a deceitful devil- cause there is no way that so much life has passed since I gazed in his almond eyes. And then I’ll feel foolish for cussing at a calendar and I will come to accept that it is not the calendar but me that needs adjustment. But I am inflexible- always have been; the type that counts the sins of calendars though everyone knows better. Growing up, it was said of…
Troubles
This is a guest post for Tanya Marlow. You can find the rest of it by following the link to her blog. I’ve made so many people feel awkward since I lost my son. I think I used to be more couth- maybe even suave- but not anymore. And I’ve quit with the trying- too tired from years of grief now to catch back up to normal. I’m the guy who stops conversations at parties when the other asks what seemed a simple enough question about kids. And here’s what never ceases to amaze me. It’s the Christians that are…
reduce or revere
I have been stewing lately on an idea- one that was driven as deep as my soul goes. A particular one of the many from days gone by when I held my first born with one arm- his lack of weight unable to even awaken my bicep. He was so small and yet in him came such monolithic lessons from afar. Ideas came in coveys with Eliot and even in the throes of grief, but now I seem to struggle to keep up with the every day affair and busy myself fighting off the guilt bastard that likes to take…
This Sunday the calendar will tell me it has been seven years since I held him. I will call it a bold-faced liar…a son of a motherless goat…a deceitful devil- cause there is no way that so much life has passed since I gazed in his almond eyes. And then I’ll feel foolish for cussing…
This is a guest post for Tanya Marlow. You can find the rest of it by following the link to her blog. I’ve made so many people feel awkward since I lost my son. I think I used to be more couth- maybe even suave- but not anymore. And I’ve quit with the trying-…
I have been stewing lately on an idea- one that was driven as deep as my soul goes. A particular one of the many from days gone by when I held my first born with one arm- his lack of weight unable to even awaken my bicep. He was so small and yet in him…