- Church Life, Daily Life, Holy Days, I Never Thought I'd Be In This Situation, Movies, Photographs, Reflections
The First Sunday of Advent
It’s been cold in a raw, bone-grinding way the past week, and we’ve burned a lot of wood in the evenings to keep things cozy. These days, the hostility of the petty and screeching world outside contrasts so dramatically with the peace found within the family walls, and I spend much of my time maintaining the chasm that separates the two Almost a year ago, Mrs. Orr and I watched Terence Malick’s haunting film A Hidden Life, and I was so moved that I wrote a blog post about it. I re-watched the movie yesterday and was affected even more forcefully by the similarity to what happened to the quiet…
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Century Plus
My mother was born one hundred and one years ago today, in the shadow of a small mountain. Tough, taciturn, and tortured woman that she was, she never did anything the world would call notable, but she did something that impressed me. She endured. My sister and I were discussing Mother this morning. We agreed that we’re glad she’s no longer in this world, that she’s not here to see what has become of the country she loved. It would have grieved her beyond measure to see the horror show called American life today. I comfort myself with the hope that I’ll see her again someday, on the other side…
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Fright And Grief
When I arrived home tonight, Mrs. Orr was cooking up a feast of salmon patties, new potatoes, green beans and a cucumber & tomato salad. We ate, and then Jinx and I went out for our evening stroll. A couple of years ago, one of my readers helped me identify a type of milkweed I’d never seen before. That same strain of milkweed is everywhere this year. As Jinx and I walked, I counted more than eighty of the plants along a twenty yard stretch of our road. The butterflies will be well pleased. Back at the house, I decided to set all of my wife’s pot flowers (as in…
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The Strange Power
“Scars have the strange power to remind us that our past is real.” ― Cormac McCarthy, All The Pretty Horses Yesterday marked six months to the day that our beloved dog, Bonnie, died in her sleep. I don’t ponder it as much as I once did, but each time I remember the moment that I realized Bonnie was gone, I feel as if I have been kicked in the stomach. The sense of her being stolen from us is as raw and punishing as it was half a year ago. My grief for my dog caught me by surprise. I never expected to mourn an animal the way I did Bonnie.…
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Meeting Knox
We took a day-trip to Gatlinburg, TN, just to get a change of scenery and a bit of fresh air on a cold, bright day. Last night we got a couple of inches of powdery snow, and the drive down into Tennessee was lovely and pleasant. We ate at our favorite Mexican restaurant on the water, reliving memories of other visits when all the kids and grandkids were gathered with us in the same room under the same colorful decor. The chips are homemade and the pico de gallo was the best it’s ever been. After our meal, we strolled down the main street, ducking in a couple of the…
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Waiting For The Ram
I didn’t know Terry well, but what I did know of him I liked. He was gentle, good-humored, a careful listener, and had large, expressive eyes that watched the world without cynicism. I also knew that he was troubled, with a history of admissions to psychiatric wards and rehab facilities. I used to watch him and wonder how one so young could be so weary. Terry always seemed to be fighting to suppress a wince, as if his interior bruises were being palpated by an unseen and uncaring hand. And so while I was dismayed, I was not very surprised when I learned of his death by suicide. The day…
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Forever And A Day
We met today after not seeing each other for almost a year. She was subdued and hesitant, and I waited for a pause in the conversation so I could ask her about what I was perceiving. She told me of her brother, just a few years older than her, and how he’s been caring for his wife for the past few years after she had a series of massive strokes. Her sole caregiver, he has dedicated all of his energies to taking care of the lady he’d once courted, married, fathered children with, and built a home for. But just a few weeks ago, he showed up at her…
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She Grieves
We visited a town in a nearby state this weekend and spent most of a day browsing through an enormous arts & crafts festival. We were walking in an alley when we saw a handsome German Shepherd tethered to a long leash in a yard. We stopped and spoke to the dog, at which point her owner saw us from her back door and came out to say hello. The lady was about my age and had a strong speech impediment. She also had a sweet and guileless personality. She explained that the dog’s name is Mollie, and that she was until recently a K-9 officer in the local police…
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Poor Little Thing
She came to the office today, and this has been my only arena of contact with her for the years that I’ve been aware of her life. Her daughter always brings her, and together they pass through the doors meek and bowed and deferential, wearing the mien of learned helplessness, carrying the rooted resignation of their bloodline but lacking the grit. They see me as an authority, me — and no matter how soft or unassuming or passive I present myself to them, I have never been able to convince them that I am from their world, not the world of my employers. She wears knit gloves and a wool…
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Little Griefs
The second foggy morning in August so far, and I am tracking them. Mountain lore holds that the number of fogs in August forecasts the number of snows in the coming winter. Last year it was off a bit, but it’s still great fun to monitor. Through the fog’s gloom as I drove, I saw a tiny fawn in the road, lying exactly along the yellow stripe in the center. Such a delicate and beautiful little creature, fragile and soft and spotted. It looked to be sleeping as I slowed and passed it. And I had the same thought I always have when I see such sights. I thought of…