It's a Walk Back into a Day in the Life Thing

Dear America,

not even sure what to say right now.

good morning?

happy Monday?

top of the morning to you?

.....So would you believe I turned into a 'walk-er' for the last three weeks? 

Oh, do you happen to be one of those not entirely sure what that means? 
Am I talking in tongues, or something? 
Don't suppose you caught up with the weekend's AMC marathon, preparing for the arrival of a brand new episode of "The Walking Dead," which we all got to witness just last night?

Let me just say -- I feel like I was living the night of the living dead for days, weeks, nearly a month.  I have nearly no recollection of anything but a night that began in a life-threatening panic -- the dearest one in the family (aka the Angel In Chief) was struck with pneumonia --  and was on life support in ICU for nearly a week.

It all happened so fast, too.

He's the angel-in-chief because he was born an angel; and he's the only one in the family to be so lucky.  Some people might think being born with Down's Syndrome is a life resigned to hardship, unable to live life fully, if of the belief it's a disability.  But surely, anyone who has come across 'kissy face' would emphatically disagree.  He created a life magnificent not only for himself, but for all of us who have had the good grace to know him, to live with him, to enjoy his spirit of perpetual, childlike innocence and wonder (with a good dose of loving brutal honesty coming just when we least expect it, to be in close second).  Deep down -- he's brilliant, I tell you.

But let me not hold you in suspense even a moment longer -- the lad is still with us, thank our lucky stars.

It was then -- once he was in the clear -- I fell miserably ill with the flu.   I guess I let my guard down, for I never get sick.  And now, looking back, I realize I have never been that sick, ever.  And then -- my girl got sick! 

It was as if I was being surrounded all at once; the world was closing in on me -- threatening my very existence and life as we know it, having easily slipped into a twilight zone of sorts.  The safe harbor of the day to day humming right along, having clearly learned to take my health for granted, brings my life to a screeching halt.  I never really saw it coming.

But here I am.

I missed the opportunity to vent about women in combat -- think that's where things were left off...

Of course, we also missed having a deep discussion on the Super Bowl, or was it the Har-bowl?  Kind of funny how the NFL wanted to claim ownership of that tag line, no?  As if the league doesn't have enough to deal with pending the ongoing controversy of liability over brain injuries and personal accountability.   Even my Hall's cough drops lays it out pretty straightforward -- giving a pep talk in every drop -- saying things like "Go for it!"  "Get back in there champ!"  "Put your game face on!"  "Seize the day!"  Can we talk mixed messages?

Well, one thing is for sure -- we awoke to the world turning upside down all over again.  Can you even  believe the Pope would up and quit in the middle of Lent?  Lent!  Arrivederci my little flock.

I mean, seriously?  He is leaving his post on February 28th?

The Pope is going to throw in the towel?  Now?

Goodness gracious -- this is like The Season of all Seasons written into the ecumenical church year, for St. Pete's sake...Lent is all about renewal, reuniting in the spirit of being alive and being a child of God!  And the Pope wants to call it quits, right in the middle of it?  Has he been bitten? (That's just an inappropriate connection to the     walking       dead...father forgive me, I know not what I say).

When I was smack dab in the middle of mourning the condition of my brother, I happened to have caught Joel Osteen one Sunday morning.   As expected, we always hear what we most need to hear, and this morning was no different.  If my recollection serves me, Osteen told us the story of Moses being at a complete loss -- in spirit, as well as in provisions.  He couldn't feed his people.  Long story short, all of a sudden, the winds shifted and the skies opened up and falling at the feet of Moses were enough Quail to feed everyone, and probably for days.

Osteen's message was one of hope and renewal, but his point was simply this:  when we are open to receive...God breathes in our direction.  And the truth is --- we may very well have done nothing to deserve it.  It just happens.

This vision of God breathing in our direction carried me -- through the anguish of waiting things out while the angel-in-chief's wings were being poked and tweaked,  and even while I was down but not quite out.    This Life Force, this Breath, this abundant and everlasting Source for renewal and grace, unexpectedly gave me everything I needed.  I just had to remain open to receiving it.

I don't know how the Pope comes to a decision to stop.  All I can imagine is God has something, someone, better for the world waiting in the wings.  This Pope seems to have lost the fight inside himself.

And now, switching gears altogether -- is it just me, or is the president speaking on behalf of the State of the Union on Fat Tuesday chockfull of hidden messages and double entendre?  I worry that I may fall ill all over again with the event, but have promised myself to prepare myself for anything.  I will be popping Airborne, drinking my eight glasses of water, getting plenty of rest tonight, just to guard against any kind of crazy talk he plans on dishing out.    He's a walk-er, and a bite-er, in my mind...armed and dangerous; but given the vulnerability and susceptibility of at least half of the American people these days, all he needs to do is speak and people bite.  It's strange really -- people just accept whatever he says as the truth, as if he's the leader of the pack without questioning anything.   [For the non-walking dead, that's just another storyline]

We just had some sort of boat show run through town.  In their advertising they said something like, "come see how affordable owning  a boat can be!"  And I just had to laugh.   They could probably sell a few sail boats without any sails, too. [Can hardly wait til tomorrow night.]

Oh the winds, they are a changing...

I keep wondering why do I care?  Why is it important for me to come back and spill it day in and day out -- or three weeks in and three weeks out, as the case may be?  [Bite me]  Why even show up at all -- it's not like anybody would really miss me, right? 

Well, I would miss me.

I am going to keep coming back whenever I can, saying whatever it is I need to say, for as long as I live.   It's MY diary of a day in the life of an American girl and I promise not to take any of it for granted.  I suggest you all do the same.

At the risk of being uber cheesy --   Be awake!  Don't be a walk-er.  Accept today as maybe your last and commit to the renewal of making your life better than the day before...for the sake of all of mankind, if nothing else.

Make it a Good Day, G