Regrets, The Future, Day-by-Day, My Children, Past Anger, Ecclesiastes, Old Enemies
Ok, housecleaning time: Regrets.."I have a few, but then again, too few to mention"....Sinatra was kidding himself. One of my daughters continually hounds me that I "made a lot of mistakes," and of course she is right. I counter... rather, banter by looking at my watch and saying, I don't have enough time before I die to list them all, BUT, I never got up any morning with the express wish to make YOUR life miserable. Can YOU say the same?
Somehow, as John Wayne used to say, converation sorta dried up.
The other daughter, Michelle Melin-Rogovin, left 25 years ago, hasn't seen, talking to me, of me, about me, since. She moved out, settled in Chicago, married into a family of left wingers. My attempt at reaching her produced three threats and a lawyer's letter (?). Ah well.
Regrets? Yeah. Eighteen and a half years worth.
After my third wife died in my arms in room 302 at Presbyterian St Luke's in Denver at 4:05 pm on Good Friday 1998 I figured nothing more in life could hurt me, and I didn't read a newspaper for three years, lock a seat belt around, me carry a gun, drink in seedy bars. Two years in therapy convinced me to take it day-by-day. Pretty much, my doc said at the end, " you don't worry much, do you Roge?"
Nobody ever said that about me before. I decided it was the only good habit I got from Janet's death, so I decided to keep it. Nobody, nothing, no turn of events, no kid of mine, boss, job, invasion from another country was going to upset me, keep me up nights.
I live day-by-day, I get up looking forward to tonight and that pillow and whatever joy I can bring to whomever (me included) and God's will takes the rest.
My "kids:" at 40 and 41, they are who and what they are and it took me some time to figure out that control was an illusion. IF I ever had ANY, I sure didn't use it well, and if I did, the people around me, behind me, and my "close family friends and school administrators" were busy screwing up what little family closeness I had. Reminds me of the joke about the guy in the swamp: up to your ass in alligators, forgetting to drain the swamp.
Realizing that old(er) age does bring benefits, old enemies float away to their rewards - waving good bye to them as they are snatched away by the evil dark lords of the deep, they scream shrill panic as they are dragged down below to the rings of dread only seen on the front panel of Michaelangelo's Capella Sistena. The suckers die off before me. Vengence is mine sayeth the Lord. Wait long enough...and the PAST anger goes with them. Everyone I know is either dead or dying, and I am fine with it.
I have made my peace with it.
Ecclesiastes 4:6 - you should read it, Michelle. The St James Version is the preferred version by 78% of Americans, so polls say. it speaks "with the hand of God," so interviews tell us.
I once met Benjamin Weir. The current uneducated set of young Americans who don't know their own history don't know who he is: Dr. Weir was one of the American Missionaries captured and held hostage during the Lebanese civil war. He was captive for five years with Father Jenkow and others.
When we spoke, I said, " peace be with you, Dr. Weir,"
He replied, " well, peace be with you, too Roger." I asked him if he TRULY had foreven his Lebanese captors for his five years of torture. Just the two of us spoke privately.
" Yes, I believe I have. It was hard at first," he said, " but, I knew if I were to continue in the ministry, I had to be true to it, AND MYSELF, I had to. "
Peace be with you too.
###
Somehow, as John Wayne used to say, converation sorta dried up.
The other daughter, Michelle Melin-Rogovin, left 25 years ago, hasn't seen, talking to me, of me, about me, since. She moved out, settled in Chicago, married into a family of left wingers. My attempt at reaching her produced three threats and a lawyer's letter (?). Ah well.
Regrets? Yeah. Eighteen and a half years worth.
After my third wife died in my arms in room 302 at Presbyterian St Luke's in Denver at 4:05 pm on Good Friday 1998 I figured nothing more in life could hurt me, and I didn't read a newspaper for three years, lock a seat belt around, me carry a gun, drink in seedy bars. Two years in therapy convinced me to take it day-by-day. Pretty much, my doc said at the end, " you don't worry much, do you Roge?"
Nobody ever said that about me before. I decided it was the only good habit I got from Janet's death, so I decided to keep it. Nobody, nothing, no turn of events, no kid of mine, boss, job, invasion from another country was going to upset me, keep me up nights.
I live day-by-day, I get up looking forward to tonight and that pillow and whatever joy I can bring to whomever (me included) and God's will takes the rest.
My "kids:" at 40 and 41, they are who and what they are and it took me some time to figure out that control was an illusion. IF I ever had ANY, I sure didn't use it well, and if I did, the people around me, behind me, and my "close family friends and school administrators" were busy screwing up what little family closeness I had. Reminds me of the joke about the guy in the swamp: up to your ass in alligators, forgetting to drain the swamp.
Realizing that old(er) age does bring benefits, old enemies float away to their rewards - waving good bye to them as they are snatched away by the evil dark lords of the deep, they scream shrill panic as they are dragged down below to the rings of dread only seen on the front panel of Michaelangelo's Capella Sistena. The suckers die off before me. Vengence is mine sayeth the Lord. Wait long enough...and the PAST anger goes with them. Everyone I know is either dead or dying, and I am fine with it.
I have made my peace with it.
Ecclesiastes 4:6 - you should read it, Michelle. The St James Version is the preferred version by 78% of Americans, so polls say. it speaks "with the hand of God," so interviews tell us.
I once met Benjamin Weir. The current uneducated set of young Americans who don't know their own history don't know who he is: Dr. Weir was one of the American Missionaries captured and held hostage during the Lebanese civil war. He was captive for five years with Father Jenkow and others.
When we spoke, I said, " peace be with you, Dr. Weir,"
He replied, " well, peace be with you, too Roger." I asked him if he TRULY had foreven his Lebanese captors for his five years of torture. Just the two of us spoke privately.
" Yes, I believe I have. It was hard at first," he said, " but, I knew if I were to continue in the ministry, I had to be true to it, AND MYSELF, I had to. "
Peace be with you too.
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