January 9, 2026 · 0 Comments
I’m exhausted. But not too tired to run up that hill one more time, hand in hand with my “Jill.” But we’d leave our pails – and all that they contain – behind for others to fill. I imagine, once we reach the summit, it opens up to a picture-perfect meadow, with a Disney-esque log cabin, sans dwarves.
We humans need comfort as much as we need food and water. During the holidays, one specific carol extends tidings of “comfort and joy.” Just what is comfort and why is it so import to us humans? A lexicon defines it as “a state of physical ease and freedom from pain or constraint” or “the easing or alleviation of a person’s feelings of grief or distress.”
God moves in mysterious ways. Even the non-religious types in our midst utter this phrase from time to time. I was reminded of this, and one other indisputable fact – I am not alone. A very nice King couple – Roger and Irene – treated me to a fabulous lunch, simply because they wanted to meet the person who writes about life, and is welcomed into their home every week, via the newspaper. While they had a sense of who I was from reading my columns, they wanted to see what I was really like.
It’s great work if you can get it! Being a star athlete or entertainer is definitely key-to-the-city rich. Salaries of the pros keep skyrocketing, reaching never-before-seen levels. And consumers are feeling the pinch.
I ventured out on a limb, and reached a crossroads of sorts. It may not be the biggest revelation I’ve had, but it’s a grand existential enigma. I’ve decided to sell some of my prized possessions and trim things down a bit. As I mentioned this at home, my son said that all I would get in return is money and once it’s gone, that’s it. Well, yes, that’s the nature of commerce, I suppose.
Our bodies are truly magnificent pieces of machinery. They’re beyond intricate and despite the fact every one is unique and priceless, we all get one. It’s like our essence gets a new outfit – an overcoat or sorts – at the time of our birth. It’s like winning the evolutionary lottery. Alas, with any windfall can come bankruptcy, physically or emotionally.
How many of us think about, and even talk to, the dearly departed? How often do we miss hearing their voices or laughter? Recently, while driving home from my radiation treatment at Southlake, I pictured my mom’s face in the cloudy sky above. I began to cry.
As I went about my daily business recently, I took a step back, and realized just how orderly things are. I’m in my own lane, one that’s been set for me, and all I do is go from Point A to Point B, and occasionally veer off to Point C, sometimes swinging around Point D. Is that what our lives have come down to?
Driving down a country road the other day I filled my lungs with the still-mild fall air. It was a beautiful day. I thought, then thought some more. Not unlike an old, famous farm hand, I could “wile away the hours, conferrin’ with the flowers, consultin’ with the rain.”
We humans, despite our flaws, tend to be giving sorts. I’m not sure if it’s by design, but it seems our generous nature is inherent and comes from within. And that’s a very good thing.
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