When was your first time?
When was the very first time you didn’t actually believe. . .
When was the very first time you actually knew,
K N E W
that you weren’t going to live forever?
Was it was you went to the funeral of a friend, a relative, a dear loved one. . .
was it just when you read an obituary, even of one you didn’t even know the person?
When was it?
Sometimes THAT happens when you sit on the other side of the desk of a Doctor and his face tells you what you don’t want his mouth to ever say and your ears to ever heard.
Have you felt T H A T ?
The biggest problem with T H A T
is most of them are T H A T ‘ S
They’re P L U R A L
We had a great family reunion the Saturday before Easter.
My brother and his family were in from San Antonio
and even though not every family member was present
there were a great number of us
t o g e t h e r
for several hours.
We all knew just how precious and priceless was T H A T Moment
and then. . .
less than two weeks later
a humbling, powerful, very life-threatening event takes place
and my father is in the hospital.
It’s then. . .
It’s there that you go to a place a GPS can’t follow, lead or identify. . .
a Continent that doesn’t exist called
I M M U N I T Y
The harshest truth to ever be discovered and rediscovered
is the one to never be hidden or forgotten,
only in slight moments overlooked:
NONE OF US ARE IMMUME
not if you have a heart beat, a pulse, a mind that can half reason or not so easily forget
NONE OF US ARE IMMUNE
from unmet expectations
(FROM FULFILLED GOALS)
from unfulfilled dreams
(FROM VISIONS REALIZED)
from undreamt imaginings
(FROM UNDERSTANDINGS GRANTED)
(FROM PERFECT WELLNESS)
from being on the other side of the sheets
(FROM BEING ON THE SHEETS)
F R O M
NOT being immune
from it ALL
has a certain blessing that a wish can’t hold or grant
has a certain authenticity that makes a heart, beat–especially a broken one
has an awareness that a life lived–
L I V E S
It’s what can’t be traded. . .only owned
which births another sort of immunity
s h a r e d
and only known fully from the grave to which we all go. . . .
When. . .
w h e n have you ever felt
T H A T ?
(This is a re-working on one of a four installments of THE ROUGH SIDE OF THE SHEETS that I wrote back in August/September 2015 after my wife, Erin suffered a series of seizures; these are some of the lessons experienced, learned, and now hopefully shared again since my father suffered a fall with several complications ensuing since his surgery. It’s my hope that you enjoy these journey-ings, and more, take the time to share a few of yours that that we can all learn a little more about those razor-blade laden sheets…and in the sharing, soften them a little and bring a fragrance from which they knew not. It’s been nearly eight months since Erin experienced her seizures, and a week since my dad’s fall and surgery; daily they recover and ready themselves to live Life in the Shadow of Death of which no one is Immune that reminds us all: YOUR PAIN IS MY PAIN)