(Originally posted on the website Continuum…)

I recently purchased a book called “Grace for the Moment” by Max Lucado. It is a small book of daily readings collected from this man’s many books. The readings are just little “bite-sized” portions to ponder on. This particular “bite-sized” portion happened to lodge in my throat and make me think a little bit today. Here it is:

“CAN YOU imagine a world minus sin? Have you done anything recently because of sin?

At the very least, you’ve complained. You’ve worried. You’ve grumbled. You’ve hoarded when you should have shared. You’ve turned away when you should have helped…

Because of sin, you’ve snapped at the ones you love and argued with the ones you cherish. You have felt ashamed, guilty, bitter.

Sin has sired a thousand heartaches and broken a million promises. Your addiction can be traced back to sin. Your mistrust can be traced back to sin. Bigotry, robbery, adultery – all because of sin. But in heaven, all of this will end.

Can you imagine a world without sin? If so, you can imagine heaven.”

THERE are some pointed thoughts and questions in that passage! “You’ve snapped at the ones you love and argued with the ones you cherish.” Isn’t it true? Isn’t just like the song, “You always hurt the one you love?” Why have I often done this? I guess I could just excuse it by saying that that is just the way it is when you live closely with someone. I’m human. They are human. Humans often irritate one another when you place them in close proximity for any length of time. But why? Why is it this way? Was it this way in the very beginning when God made the first humans? Or did something happen at some point in our history that made us this way?

I was tempted to brush these thoughts away and chalk up my shortcomings to the fact that “this is just the way I am” until I read the next page in Lucado’s book:

“GOD wants us to be just like Jesus.

Isn’t that good news? You aren’t stuck with today’s personality. You aren’t condemned to ‘grumpydom.’ You are tweakable. Even if you’ve worried each day of your life, you needn’t worry the rest of your life. So what if you were born a bigot? You don’t have to die one.

Where did we get the idea we can’t change? From whence come statements such as, ‘It’s just my nature to worry’ or, ‘I’ll always be pessimistic. I’m just that way.’ Who says? Would we make similar statements about our bodies? ‘It’s just my nature to have a broken leg. I can’t do anything about it.’ Of course not. If our bodies malfunction, we seek help. Shouldn’t we do the same with our hearts? Shouldn’t we seek aid for our sour attitudes? Can’t we request treatment for our selfish tirades? Of course we can. Jesus can change our hearts. He wants us to have a heart like His.”

WELL, after this good man’s observations, all I will say is that I definitely stand in need of great amounts of help from above! Yes, you may all shout, “Amen to that!”

SO, tonight I found myself seated at the bar at Chili’s with Friend J when this “oyster” sitting next to me started talking about the unfairness of marijuana being illegal. “You never hear of anyone getting all nasty and crap when they smoke pot. It’s the ones who drink that get all out of control and beat people up and crap. Getting high just makes you all mellow and makes you think of really cool crap.” I figured it was safest to not argue with a pothead on a soapbox, so I kindly listened. The only thing I could figure was that he was a liberal Democratic “oyster” who was having a bad day because George W. Bush was being sworn into office today. He was probably from Florida, or maybe California. Anyone who has lived in California for any length of time is definitely an “oyster.” We had sat at the bar because there was a long line of people waiting for tables. By sitting there we avoided the aggravation of sitting among other “oysters” out in the tiny little vestibule of Chili’s and were able to order dinner right away. I guess that sitting next to this particular “oyster” at the bar was the price we had to pay for the convenience. But you know, where ever you go there are always “oysters” around you. I think half of them work for the government (CIA or IRS most likely) and the other half hold positions on public school boards.

ANYWAY… Friend J and I talked about normal things like wondering if we could find a Perl compiler to run on a desktop, using Telnet to find Perl errors when your script is on a server, the coolness of using Java rather than CGI scripts, just stuff that normal people talk about every day. Right?

We talked about how neither of us feel as old as we really are. Friend J said that he stopped celebrating his birthday after high school so that he never has to get any older. I think he’s on to something there! I think it’s working for him! I feel like I’m still a teenager too. My oldest kids are nearly passing me in maturity! They are teenagers and they think that I listen to my music too loud in the car. What is wrong with kids these days? And suddenly the soundtrack to my life kicks in:

I ran into my room and I fell down on my knees
Well, I thought that fifteen was gonna be a breeze
I picked up my guitar to blast away the clouds
But somebody in the next room yelled,
“You gotta turn that damn thing down!”

“Teenage Lament 74” – Alice Cooper

Yeah, the issues and struggles of life at 3x years old are different than they were at 15. But I still feel like the same “kid.” Help! I’m a teenager trapped in a man’s body!
WHEN we left Chili’s it was snowing pretty hard. But we didn’t worry because the weatherman said that it was not supposed to snow where we were. I guess if we could deny our ages we could deny the weather just as easily.

In the car we talked about this personality survey that we had to fill out at work recently. Formally it is called the “Myers-Briggs Type Indicator.” We had to answer this set of 131 questions in preparation for an upcoming team building workshop. Most of the questions could have been answered in different ways depending on how you looked at them or what mood you happened to be in at the moment. Most of them didn’t allow enough options to choose from. I found myself answering similar question very differently from page to page. I was wondering what all this would say about my personality in the end. What would Mr. Myers and Mr. Briggs determine my personality to be? How about this:

“A chronic sociopath with severe serial killer tendencies and a genetic pre-disposition favorable of spontaneous combustion.”

Wow! That sounds interesting! That would make me stand out in a crowd for sure! But what if the verdict is that I’m just normal? What if they classify me as “just like the next guy,” “average?” What if they come and label me as “permanent press”, “no special care needed,” “just wash with like colors and tumble dry on medium heat?” I don’t want to be status quo! I don’t want to be just another Tom, Dick or Harry. I want to be a Sven! After all, I’m not normal! I listen to “oysters!” Pot smoking “oysters!” Remember?
Well… Normal or not, at least I’m NOT an “oyster.”

(Originally posted on the website Continuum…)

BEAR WITH ME while a rant for a while. Maybe you can relate to some of these things that really annoy me. They are not in any particular order. They are not ranked from least to most annoying. At any given time, any one of these irritations could easily shoot right to the top of the list as the most annoying of annoyances. It all depends on my mood, the alignment of the planets and the fewness of the hours of sleep I got the night before.

LET ME start with this. It annoys the heck out of me when there is a maniac on the road while I’m driving to work in the morning. I’m talking about the guy who is weaving back and forth between lanes, risking lives and making insurance companies nervous. He drives fast, but he doesn’t think to fast. All the while he’s cutting into this lane and then that, he’s really not gaining any ground! One minutes he is two cars ahead of me in my lane, the next he is one and a half behind me in the far lane. Then he’s right next to me in the middle lane. “Yo! Mr. Dale ‘Wannabe’ Earnhardt! Ease up! You’ve got way too much caffeine and a little too much Sunday afternoon NASCAR in your system!”

WHAT ABOUT whispering? Now that is annoying! I just cannot take it! Just talk! I especially cannot take it when someone whispers and there is really no need to be whispering! It’s one thing to whisper while in church, but to whisper when you are in a store or something like that is just annoying! And did you ever see some of those hunting shows on the weekends? I saw these two guys who were deer hunting. The whole program was full of whispering. To make it even more annoying, just after one of the guys on the program fired his rifle, they still continued to whisper! I mean you just fired off a gun that was as loud as a cannon! I think every buck in the forest knows where you are now. So stop whispering, numbnuts!

Another annoyance to me is watching golf on television. WHISPERING AGAIN!

NOW HERE is one that really bugs me! Did you ever pay attention to that little notice that appears just before the movie starts on a rented video? It says something like, “This film has been modified from its original version. It has been formatted to fit your TV.” Do you have any idea how annoying that is to me? As soon as I see the words, “Feature Presentation,” I close my eyes. I cover my face with my hands. I do whatever I have to in order to avoid seeing that stupid notice! But it never fails. I still see it. Sometimes I peek through my fingers to see if the movie started only to see that notice just as it is fading from the screen! AGGGGHHHH!! I can’t stand it! By the way… This entry has been modified from its original version. It has been formatted to fit your brain. (I couldn’t resist!)

PEOPLE who pick their noses and eat it annoy me! There used to be a girl in my eighth grade class that did that. Yuck! You know eating breakfast might help curb that habit. There was also a whole family that picked their noses and ate it in church when we used to go to Saint Joe’s as kids. We called them “The Nosepickers.” (What else?) It was never a good idea to sit too close to “The Nosepickers” because when it was time to “offer one another the sign of peace,” you just might get a piece that you didn’t bargain for, a piece of nostril cookie in the palm of your hand!

I’m sorry. That previous paragraph was gross. Did I annoy you?

SOMETHING else that annoys me is telemarketers, especially the ones trying to sell newspaper subscriptions. They sneak into my house through the telephone lines. They arrive without warning and always when they are unwanted, which is always! They spew out close to fifty words before I even finish saying hello. Even more annoying are the telemarketing calls that are only recordings. You answer the phone, “Hello?” 2.6666 seconds of dead silence. Then you hear the recording. Oh, it really gets me! The worst part about the situation is that no matter how hard I slam down the phone, I never attain the same satisfaction as when I slam it down on a human ear. Frustratingly annoying!

HERE IS a good one. It is so annoying, as a man, to have to buy “feminine products” for one’s spouse. Now, I currently do not have to worry about that. But several years ago while I was married, a certain X found herself in dire need of lady’s “things.” Guess who was sent to the store in a hurry? To my amazement I found an aisle of lady’s “things” that must have been four miles long! I was sent to get one particular brand of “things.” I immediately faced a moral dilemma upon entering that aisle. There were several ladies browsing among the “things.” How could they just browse right out in the open like that?? I did the honorable thing and pretended to browse the shelves of athlete’s foot cream and jock itch spray on the opposite side of the aisle until all of the women cleared out. Then I frantically paced back and forth, bobbing up and down like some kind of demented waterfowl, scanning the shelves for just the right “things.” On my way to check out I picked up a box of cereal just to cover the “things.” Wouldn’t you know it? The cashier was a teenage boy! As I paid him, he asked, “Do you want those ‘things’ in a bag?” I just leaned closer towards him and in a man-to-man sort of way replied, “Would you walk out of the store with those ‘things’ if they were not in a bag?” He bagged them without another word. I went on my way home and was greeted at the door with, “What took you so long?” Annoying! Absolutely annoying! I would rather have root canal than endure an experience like that again.

NOW, my friends, I have just discovered one last thing that annoys me. That is writing about the things that annoy me because now I am just really annoyed! I hope you are all happy!! I’ll be in the closet screaming. Don’t bug me!

(Originally posted on the website Continuum…)

AT MOM’S the day was spent laughing our way through boxes of old photos. Sisters C and Ch were there. We had a nice time reminiscing. Emotions ranged from high to low as various pictures were pulled from the boxes. The highs were had when cute babies, comical toddlers and asinine teenagers were passed from hand to hand. The lows were drawn out by relatives that were no longer with us and “Xs” – ex-boyfriends, ex-girlfriends, ex-husbands, ex-wives. I soon began scanning pictures and throwing them onto web pages. I just had to share some of the fun with you all!

The pictures on this page were taken way back in the 1960s. We were at the shore in one of those little photo booths. The pictures contain Mom, Sister C, Cousin B and myself. Notice our sailor hats and Mom’s Phyliss-Diller-feathery-head-thing! I wonder how many chickens gave up their lives to make those things back in the 60s??

WE WENT to the Jersey Shore a lot when I was growing up. Often we went with Pop and Gram. They always had trailers. We would stay in a campground near the beach for what seemed like months as a kid, but was probably only a week or so. We went to Sea Isle City a lot. I think the name of the campground we used to go to was something like “Timberlane.” There was a little store there, a laundry mat, a game room. I remember buying giant Sweetarts there. The truck would fog for mosquitoes every evening. I distinctly remember hearing the Guess Who’s “American Woman” while Cousin P and I were in the game room. (Yes! Their original version of the song is WAAAAY better than Lenny Kravitz’s version!)

One time someone in the family rented a house or something in Brigantine near Atlantic City. It was back in the 1970s when the movie “Jaws” was first in the theatres. I remember the Cousin P was considered old enough to see the movie, but I was not allowed to go. I was also scorched by the sun during our time there. I had such bad sunburn on my hips that it hurt to put my jeans on. I had to wear this pair that had soft denim. The worst part was that it was extremely hard to participate in the nightly toad catching activities with my cousin. I couldn’t bend all the way over! I felt like such a sissy! And my cousin was quick to label me as such!

Here is a thing that was always a great mystery to me. My grandfather had this amazing ability to walk barefoot over the sand no matter how hot it was! He would walk right onto the beach without even hesitating or blinking an eye, leaving a column of hobbling grandchildren in his wake. I bet to see us would leave one wondering if it was our feet that were hurting or if our knees were weak the way we faltered and bobbed along.

I HAD a major issue with insect bites when I was a kid, especially mosquitoes and bees. Each time that we went to the shore, it was almost a guarantee that various parts of my body would be swelling up by the second day. I can remember having swollen ears from mosquitoes. More than once my eye was swollen shut by those blood-sucking vultures! When I was 6 I had to wear a patch over my left eye. It was goofy! I had an “8 Ball” sticker right in the middle of it. Weird, huh? Well, at least it covered my puffy eye.

ONCE, on our way to the shore with Pop and Gram, Pop stopped at Sears and bought brand new bikes for Cousin P and I. They were the coolest! Purple banana seats. Wide slicks on the back. Cousin P’s had a nice high sissy bar on the back. Unfortunately mine peddled like it was in fifth gear all the time. If I didn’t get tall I probably would have had the biggest thighs going! We rode those bikes for hours at the campground that year.

MY FAMILY enjoyed many good times at the Jersey Shore. We would go to the boardwalk, buy souvenirs and salt water taffy. Many hours were spent playing cards and bingo for prizes in the trailer at night. Gram always made sure that she had lots of prizes for us. Even the ones who did not actually win still got a prize at the end. We had happy days, back when time was not something that concerned us as kids. Life was so much mystery and adventure to us then. We had not learned much sorrow yet.

(Originally posted on the website Continuum…)

“WITH the winter sun on our backs, this concludes our service of remembrance.”

So said the aged funeral director once the priest had finished with the funeral rites. The director announced that everyone was invited to my cousin’s house for lunch. The crows called to one another somewhere behind us. The snow began to thaw. Traffic on the road continued to pass by. We stood frozen in that moment, reluctant to leave. No one spoke.

(Click the image of the prayer card to see a larger version.)

Slowly people began to move, approached the casket. Single carnations were placed along the top of Gram’s casket, first by her daughters, next by her great grandchildren. Soft words were spoken amongst us. Directions to Cousin A P’s house were announced. We made our way to our cars, each taking his turn to rejoin the flow of life at the cemetery exit. The quietness of the funeral slowly faded as the sounds and activities of life returned from all directions. Someone turned the radio on. A nephew was singing in the back seat. Bellies were rumbling. The fuel light came on in the car.

AT the viewing on Thursday, many tears were shed, many arms were extended with love and sorrow, and many missed relatives were embraced. Each face brought with it its own lifetime worth memories. Some of those faces even wore the resemblance of family members which had passed years before. Friends and acquaintances brought a reminder that our family is not isolated. There are others who love us as well.

It was moving to see the children through these days. They were so brave. They brought their tears and their love and approached Gram’s casket with courage. Grammy Durnin had loved them completely. That love seemed to yet radiate from her body and they drew near to her. There they saw their faces in pictures placed in the casket. They took their seats with questions in their minds. Who were the other children in those pictures? Who are all of these people seated here with weeping eyes? Who am I among these people? And so, because of the love of their great grandmother, they considered the issues that matter most. They pondered the foundations of life. They wrestled to grasp the significance of death. They probed the mysteries of faith, God, Jesus, resurrection, heaven. Thus, strength was invested into our family again.

BELIEVE IT or not, there was quite a bit of laughter in our midst this week. Some of this may be attributed to nervousness. Sometimes, when you are so afraid of the unknown, all you can do is laugh. However, I would say that the deeper reason for our laughter is that it is a natural part of our family. It is part of who we are. Many in the family have such a great sense of humor. When we do gather, the laughter cannot be prevented. There was a common thought too that Gram would want it this way. She loved to hear laughter. Even during her last hours, when she was too weak to say any of our names, she did manage to laugh when she heard laughter around her. I believe that our laughter during this week, even in the funeral home, was not disrespectful but honoring to her. It was cathartic to us as well.

I WAS allowed the honor of speaking in eulogy to my grandmother at the funeral service. Seven years ago I was asked to speak at my grandfather’s funeral. Yesterday my words were a continuation of what I had said then. My grandparents were unified in their love for their family. We were their greatest possessions. It was impossible to speak of Gram without speaking of Pop as well. They invested themselves in us. They were kind. They were generous. They were not striving to own a big house with nice furniture that you were not allowed to sit on, or expensive collectibles that you were afraid to even breath around less you knock one over. No, they lived and gave for us. They did not think of taking vacations alone. They insisted on dragging as many of us as possible along with them. Their earnings were spent on pool tables, mini bikes, snowmobiles, grills for picnics, tickets to amusement parks, mobile trailers to haul the grandchildren. I could have spoken for hours about these things at the funeral.

MANY of us went to Cousin A P’s house in the afternoon. A beautiful spread of food and drink awaited us when we arrived. The coffee was hot. The wine was soothing. The company of one another was refreshing.

Plans were made to have a family picnic in June. There was a common feeling that it has just been too long since we last gathered as a family. There needs to be some good times. Our children need to see us gather for joyous occasions not only the sad ones. Second and third cousins need to know who their relatives are. Those of us who are older need to restore lost relations, catch up on one another’s history. There is a need for healing. Like any family, ours is made up of humans. Humans fail. Humans sometimes hurt one another. Yet, we can learn to forgive. We can learn to make amends. Some relations in our family may never know complete healing, but perhaps those relations can be made better than they now are. For the sake of all involved, we can only hope so. Life is so short.

(This family photo is not of the best quality. Click HERE to see a larger version of it. Click HERE to see a second family picture.)

MY grandmother’s funeral activities are concluded. However, her influence upon our lives will never end. She lived for us. She spent her last days at home, her last hours with many of us near her. She died at home. This is what she wanted. We would have it no other way. Her warmth, kindness, humor, and generosity will be with us. Her investment in our lives is now complete. I hope that her values and qualities will live on in those of us that she left behind and in those of us who are yet to come. This will be an honor to my grandmother.