Posts tagged ‘death’

POEMS & FLEETING THOUGHTS

FEAR

I am not afraid d
Of dying,
What I fear most
Is not living.
REALITY

Death is an
Important moment
Of life,
Not because
You are gone,
But because
Your days
Of accomplishing
Are over.

These two pieces were written with the thoughts of how
we are constantly told what to do to prolong life.
But in reality, the prolonged life may be a life of
little value.
Old age does take its toll.
And some thoughts when you achieve an age
you can’t believe are in conflict with the past
and present.

June 10, 2019 at 11:02 pm 1 comment

A FREE STORY

Here is a free story. It is free for I cannot think of anyone who would publish it, except me.
You may consider the story not done. That is intentional. That is to give the reader an opportunity
to draw their own conclusions as to what Joe experienced.
If you read this, let me know what your conclusions are.
BEYOND DEATH

Joe Palmer was just your ordinary guy. In his mid-forties, married with two boys ages five and eight. He was happy with his family, he always wanted sons. When he first met his wife Megan, he could not believe he even had a chance to talk to her. Rich black hair, blue eyes and a figure that turned men’s heads. To his surprise they began a conversation, a courtship and married. When he was honest with himself, when they were first married, he considered Megan a trophy wife. But as he grew to know her as more than a possession, and as a person, his love grew and the term trophy wife disappeared. The boys helped strengthen the marriage and everything was fine, until that night.
* * *
Megan was cooking the evening’s dinner, and realized she did not have an ingredient essential for the recipe, mozzarella cheese. Joe was sitting in the family room and reading the newspaper, his usual ritual this time of day. His wrinkled brow told her he was reading a political story. She thought, This should give him a break.
“Joe,” Megan said, “would you mind running to the store for me? I need some mozzarella cheese for tonight’s dinner. Without it, it just wouldn’t be the same. Megan glanced out the window and added, “If you’re going you better get your butt in gear. Grey clouds are building. Better take an umbrella.”
Joe replied, “Okay Meg, I’ll get the cheese.’ He knew the dish Megan was making and it was one of his favorites. The store was only two blocks away and even with the threat of a storm he decided to walk. Beginning to feel his age, he walked whenever he could.
He made it to the store, purchased the cheese and as he walked out the door heavy rain drops began splattering the sidewalk. Grateful for his umbrella, he raised it and set out for home.
And then it happened.
Joe’s neighborhood was a new development. Devoid of mature trees. Only saplings lined the streets. Also, the terrain was extremely flat. He lived in Kansas and the highest point in the area was probably a mound created by a child in a sandbox.
Lightning began flashing the like of which he had never seen. With only a block to go, gripping his umbrella with its metal tip, he took a step into the water filled gutter. That was when his life ended. Joe felt a searing pain. He had been struck by lightning.
Once the pain subsided, he felt at peace. A peace he had never before experienced. Joe felt he was floating, and looking down he could see his still smoking and contorted body. But what was looking down? Was it his mind or his soul, vaguely remembering this phenomenon had been duplicated in the lab. But this was not a lab experiment. This was the reality of death. Ahead of him appeared the legendary light drawing him. Others had reported this same light, but none had gone beyond. He was certain that was his destination. What would he find? Would it be an emptiness, a void? Or would he morph into something like the celestial fetus found at the end of the movie 2001? Ready to take the next step in a wonderous adventure, a journey beyond imagination.
Wondering what was taking Joe so long to return, Megan went looking for him. She found Joe’s inert bony on the ground, half in the gutter and half on the sidewalk. She cried hysterically over her lost husband and the prospect of a future without him.
The funeral was somber for such a young man taken from life, with plans and dreams left unfulfilled. His boys cried. Megan was close to hysterics as the coffin was lowered with all that remained of Joe Palmer.
** *
The event is still unexplained and remains so to this day. Two weeks later at the very spot, at the very time of Joe’s death, he reappeared. To say Joe was confused was an understatement. Somehow a mistake in the time-space continuum or a tear in some property of physics took place. Joe’s return was an event beyond comprehension.

The only course Joe could think of was to go home. He tried the door to the house. It was locked. Using the key under the mat, he opened the door and heard voices. He quietly followed the voices into the kitchen. Not knowing how to announce his presence, without too much shock to his family, he simply said, “Hi Meg.”
He instantly realized his greeting was a mistake. But what else could he do? For Megan turned around, saw Joe, and instantly dropped to the floor, and as hard as Joe tried, unable to be revived. He dialed 911 and within minutes he could hear sirens. As the sound came closer it was blaring, then sudden silence. Joe ran and opened the front door.
The EMTs tended to Megan and in ten minutes she began to come around. Confused, as you might expect, it took time for Megan to focus on what she had just experienced. When she looked and saw Joe, she nearly passed out again, but she held on. The EMTs left and Joe and Megan embraced. Megan had endless questions, but not as many as Joe.

* * *
Joe was not a religious man. Megan was Baptist and attended services with her boys most Sundays. On occasion, Joe would go too, when he planned to take the family out for breakfast. He respected the Baptist minister, Rev. Ruben, after hearing some of his sermons. But now he needed answers scientists could not provide so he sought out someone to explain with whom he could discuss his return. Since his reappearance Joe had not left the house. If anyone saw him, what would they think? Megan called Rev. Ruben saying she had a friend who needed counseling. An appointment was made.
Joe donned a wig of black hair over his almost completely bald head and a hoody. obscuring his face. Megan then drove Joe to the church. Joe presented himself to the pastor with as little shock as possible.
Rev. Ruben seemed to recognize his visitor. But why? He had never seen this man before. Ruben motioned for his visitor to take a seat. But first Joe removed his wig and Rev. Ruben, who was standing collapsed into his chair, “I buried you!”

Joe responded, “Yes reverend, but here I am. I do not know how or why, but here I am.” In any other case small-talk would have followed eventually approaching the subject of the visit, but this was not the case for small-talk.

The two men talked for hours and when they were done both realized this conversation was far from over. Rev. Ruben said, “Joe, I have no control over you. But if the public learns what you experienced it will alter every religion in the world. Please, please, please keep this knowledge hidden. But both men knew the world was owed the story of Joe’s experience.

 

May 3, 2019 at 7:25 pm Leave a comment

POEMS & FLEETING THOUGHTS

THE 50 YEAR HIGH SCHOOL REUNION

Recently, about a year ago or so I was invited to the reunion of the 50th anniversary of my high school graduating class. Called by a guy I vaguely remembered, we talked about our lives and about my attendance. I said I would not.
Here are the reasons.
I had a crush on a few girls. Admiring their slender bodies, those wonderful maturing bodies with developing breasts and legs of infinite beauty. I shared friendships with guys who shared my interests. We all were young looking to the future.
Honestly, I do not want to know if those young, hopeful classmates fulfilled their dreams. How the world treated their hopes. I do not want to know of the failed marriages, the disappointing careers, the lives spent in no way matching what they planned. And perhaps I do not want them to know how my life and dreams came to fruition not planned.
Avoiding the reunion, gives me the opportunity to preserve the memory of those youthful smiles, faces full of hope and dreams. I do not want those visions erased by the reality of the elderly remnants of a past gone. And foremost, I do want the knowledge of those who have died.
This is a weakness.
When I have a dear friend dying, I visit while we can talk about passed experiences. While we can talk about life but never their thoughts of what comes next.
I have no desire to gaze upon the reality of life while remembering the past while those I held dear are they nothing but shells waiting for the end. I want to remember them, all of them, with eyes to the future, not how that future dealt with their dreams.

December 9, 2017 at 10:02 pm 1 comment

POEMS & FLEETING THOUGHTS: TERRORISM

Brussels

Innocent they gather

For the usual experience,

 

While those deprived

Of a future

Plot their destruction,

 

Lives torn apart,

Bodies torn apart

On both sides

Of the equation,

 

Where is the meaning

The hope

When hate overcomes

The value of life?

March 22, 2016 at 9:48 pm 1 comment

A FRIEND GONE, SALLY

A companion, living most of the past months on my lap, Sally is gone.  I have mentioned her in this blog before. 

Originally my daughter Lynn’s cat, an SPCA rescue, but as education and work took Lynn to other locations, Sally stayed behind

At the age of nearly 16 her kidney failure overpowered her.  She left this world on March 8, 2016, barely able to stand.  I had to make the final decision.   She had bounced back numerous times in the past, but this time was different.  There was no bouncing back.

I never thought I would be become a ‘cat person’, but I did become a ‘Sally person’.  We shared many nights together on my recliner, and many mornings when her hunger wanted me awake.  I miss her.  She won my heart, and I will always remember her.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

March 12, 2016 at 8:59 pm 3 comments

MARK TWAIN & ME & DEATH & TIME

A daily practice of mine is to look at the weather forecasts.  Included in the facts are the temperature highs and lows associated with that date.  I sometimes dwell on the years these records were set, years when I did not exist.  Could I be considered dead on those dates?  Is the definition of death that interval before and after your existence?

What got me thinking of this topic was a quote I read a few days ago.  A quote of Mark Twain’s when he was asked if he feared death.  The great writer said, “I do not fear death.  I have been dead for billions and billions of years before I was born and had not suffered the slightest inconvenience from it.”

This quote sums up exactly what I have been secretly pondering for years.  But the part that bothers me is the ‘billions and billions of years’.

I have been both intrigued and mystified by the universe’s creation, the ‘Big Bang’.  What follows are questions I have pondered, and the more I learn, the greater my confusion.  What came before the ‘Big Bang’?  Did time exist before that colossal event?  For time is the interval between two events, and if there are no events, can there be time?  Time would have to exist while the three other dimensions had not come into existence.

As a side-note, I have been working on a short story, The Event, for some time now and the story is tangled up in the notion of  the ‘Big Bang’ and what came before.

As far as I know, the current theory speculates that the Higgs boson created the ‘Big Bang’, a particle which is able to create mass.  But what created the Higgs boson, a particle which had to exist before the ‘Big Bang’.  Just for a moment, let’s play with science.  We all know the existence of the formula E=Mc2  Now, if the Higgs boson created matter, did light exist at that time?  For, if light did not exist, E=M0 equals no energy or mass.  So how can mass be created if light does not exist?  Am I pursuing mind games are these answers known?

I’ve always thought of the ‘Big Bang’ as a combination of God and science, where physics and religion meet in a profound outcome.  Was Mark Twain, and us all, dead before life for billions and billions of years, or for infinity?

October 1, 2015 at 6:27 pm Leave a comment

UPDATE

My consistent readers,

For those who follow my blog, you know that this was the year from hell for me.
I just thought I’d share this thought.

I stared at death,
And did not blink.

January 5, 2013 at 11:42 pm Leave a comment


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