There is more good reading in this season. It is a great excuse to sit with a fresh cup and a comforter (or a cat) and dig into Philosophy or History. Perhaps legend combined with Scripture. Lot’s of time as Jack occasionally glances out to the field and the steep hill east of it. Last nights snow was almost weightless and with every breath of wind from the north, the pines shed the smoke of snow.
Jack is pondering on the promises of the old testament and finding no reference to eternal life from faith and following the precepts of the Lord. None. Follow the Mosaic law then things will go well with you. The prophets are another thing. Jack enjoys Isaiah and the clear foretelling of the Messiah. Still, no paradise unless one reads the Song of Solomon a lot and sees the battle between the watchmen and the beloved. I am my beloveds and He is mine. The funereal spices and sudden awareness at the door. Prophesy analogy with couches and sheep teeth.
None of the big time religions we have come close to Christian values except Hinduism and the Tao. Really, it’s a choice between that and Christianity. Jack learned that from his favorite author, C.S. Lewis. The old myths are close with Balder coming back to life or the logic of the disguised Prince winning the heart of the heroine before she knows who he is. In that story, the bribe of wealth and treasure cannot come first. Show us a miracle and then we will believe! I will die for my beloved . Today you will be with me in paradise.
For many people (in cluding the Gator) proof of the Lord must be seen before belief occurs. It is a conundrum as many say “You must have Faith to Believe” while others say “You must believe to have Faith” Just one paradox that logically goes nowhere. Throughout the expanse of civilization God has spoken to us at many times and in many ways, but now He speaks through His Son.
John the Baptizer, Jesus’ cousin knew of these things. He and Jesus met before they were born. They danced for joy in their separate wombs. John knew that the era of heaven coming down was upon him the word. Again as logic and a grasp of our thoughts tell us we dislike this world but why do we look for a better one? Men who are not good at following rules. Jack raises his hand at that declaration. Sixty years after Jesus sacrificed Himself for all of us. All of us Saul of Tarsus encounters his creator. The old song, “I was blind but now I see” fits the new man, Paul. We can only imagine the conversation between him and the Christians he put to death. “Repent and be saved” as the Baptizer declared. Saved for what? The religious leaders knew nothing of eternity and resurrection. That’s why they were sad you see. They were the poor in spirit that Jesus came for as well.
Why do we fight it so much? “my, how time flies” It seems like just yesterday you were a child” “ Saving time” We yearn for what men have always yearned for. Timeless beauty seen and felt. We doubt it could really be true. All of it. Even John when he was wasting away in prison ached for the Word to touch him. “Tell him the blind see and the lame walk; the lepers are cleansed and the deaf hear; the dead are raised up and the poor have the Gospel preached to them.” John, doubted Jesus was the Messiah. Perhaps fear of his impending doom. Even the “greatest of all men born of a woman”said Jesus of John the baptizer. He had doubt. This gives me great encouragement. Doubt is not condemnation. It’s pretty good. Jack Gator
It’s a sign we all see about in our townships. POSTED or the above about Transgressing. Jack’s favoirite is PRIVATE PROPERTY. ‘Keep away’ was the playground game. You can tell that a transfer of land has been done to someone, a city man perhaps. Afraid of finding a two legged predator on ‘their’ land. It happens a lot around here. Hunting and just exploring is natural to break the restrictive bond of living in the city, in a house with next window neighbors. Freedom from the small lawns and sidewalks.
Property lines are in dispute at times however. After years go by, the barbed wire is tangled and sinking into the ground in places. Just above ground anough to trip you up. The property lines get a little vague and once in a while a neighbor gets disturbed about their rights and taxes. It happens to all of us in some way.
For Jack, it always seems that the neighbors land goes back to the civil war when the present owners great great grandparents received their land for homesteading. Big places. Hundreds of acres in the family and with signs often stating a ‘Century Farm’ They say: ‘ I am special, we are special and you are probably not as special as us’
The way our country has headed with bureaucracy telling us a phrase from Orwell’s Animal Farm. “ you are special, some pigs are more special however” Nothing new really. A side note: the word bureaucracy derives from the French word for ‘desk’
Earlier, when Jack was new to his property, he was walking about the south west part and he came upon another hunter behind a small hill. The hunter got rather irritated and asked Jack what he was doing and Jack replied: “Ahh, we are standing on my property” The man promptly walked over to the south fence, climbed over it and turned about face. Jack extended his hand and said “Let’s start over, may name is Jack and I’m new to this place. Who are you?” The man had the same last name and they chatted a bit about land and fences and somewhat arbitrary property lines. It was a good beginning and there were no posted or private property signs installed on the perimiter by either man. No need really, it is just safety in the hunting season to be aware of people, buildings and livestock that are within range of a shot. Neighbors are to be treasured, not judged. There is a new contingent of new neighbors that build cabins that are the same comfort to them as living in the big city. They are only around in the summer and it’s best to make a good effort to meet them and extend your hand. It makes them feel welcome. A lot of full time neighbors don’t like them. But of course, they are just as worthy as we are. Love always wins.
The same signs of no tresspassing are put up during conversations with known and unknown people. The quest or not of seeking another soul that also desires encouragement and recognition for who they are. There is nothing more perfect than asking someone their name and quickly asking them to tell you about themselves. This is key to relaxing for two ‘strangers’.
A woman that had accidentaly slipped her boot onto her accelerator pedal from the brake pedal, had run into the back fender of Jack’s car. It was in a big parking lot at one of the box stores, 20 miles south.She stuck around and was glad that Jack was not angry with her. “My brakes failed.” Jack promptly said he would ensure the brakes were safe and found a good response at the brake pedal. “Slipping off a pedal happens now and then to everyone”.” He told her that and said, “It’s safe to drive home, how far do you have to go?” Not far she answered. Jack also asked if she was OK to drive.
They exchanged the usual information. She was gentle and Jack told her, “you’re a Christian aren’t you? No one else would have waited for me as you did” It was true. She was delighted that Jack saw her faith. Her insurance eventually took care of the damage of course. She even called Jack later that day and told him her address in case he needed it. She lived only a mile away from that parking lot. The most pleasant accident that Jack had ever had. Both of them learned and they had a conversation, a good one.
Relaxed conditions and genuine curiosity can engender quick approaches to friendships and even shared backgrounds and life experiences. This type of conversation can be easily done in common locations. Places like houses of friends or worship centers. Relax, you don’t have to give a big hug or even shake hands right out of the gate. (unless they are a relative or someone you have completely forgotten that you should remember)
How can we approach this relaxed and surprising interest, genuine interest in another? It’s not easy for those of us that have No Tresspassing posted in our eyes. Fear of revealing ourselves with emotion and reactions to a recent event. The easiest one can be a sermon directed to everyone in the room, everyone. Ask someone by conveying your genuine interest with eye contact. You can do it, trespassing allowed if you desire more of life than a quick how are you doin’. Tell them the truth and the truth will make all of us free. You can do it, it’s pretty good. Jack Gator
It wasn’t too bad, looking back. The success’ outweigh the tough parts. That’s the way it looks now anyway. Like boot camp for everyone on the planet, you’re drafted and you have to do it. Just show up and survive. Some don’t survive, some don’t even show up. The draft notice doesn’t come in the mail, it’s not on your email or Facebook. It just comes and it’s pretty obvious what it is.
Report to recruit depot and get prepared for the toughest, most interesting time of your life. When it’s over, you can stand tall and be someone that did the right thing. Fall out, get your uniforms and find your barracks.
“What is Jack talking about now! It sounds like going to basic training”…yes?” Basic training for all of mankind and there is nothing harder nor more rewarding. Jack has been taking a University Class on Philosophy and it approaches him in strange ways. The last lecture was on Emmanuel Kant. He stated that the greatest example of Moral law was someone sacrificing for another person. Not a cause. Learning how to embrace that concept and make it our operational motive is very hard and can be the only thing we have to decide in this world. A moral decision. Akin somewhat to the decision to lie to a Nazi guard looking for the Jewish man hiding in your home. Do you lie or do you tell the truth which is a basis for moral decision? Of course, telling the Gestapo the reasoning behind their miscreant behavior would not go well, even though that itself would be telling truth.
These are basic things for maturity, to wrestle with our reasoning. To seek out a ‘basic training’ that will tell us a way to think and act that fulfills, founded in a moral law. A law of civilization. Some folks will say it is tied to survival to assure survival of community and family. Sounds reasonable. Define survival, that’s all that’s required. Evolution aficionados like to use the old tooth and claw to describe survival of the fittest.
That sort of evolution works for watching trees fall when dead and what happens to the surrounding forest.
Seems rather random to most of us. What if it isn’t? The old silly question: “If a tree falls in the forest and no one is there to hear it, is there a sound?” What a ridiculous question! As though sound were a philosophic decision. Can you discern the timpani of that statement?
There are decisions that echo throughout our lives. Often seemingly small decisions. A friend of Jack’s, a very good fellow writer put it in 20 words: ““What can I do? What should I do? What is God telling me to do? What am I willing to do?” Pretty astute. How indeed do we know what God is telling us to do? It’s a thing that we are taught in basic. Simple in some ways. Keep our mouths shut and pay attention. Don’t call the sergeant sir and don’t embellish the tasks you have been given. That’s boot camp. Now, we are out of boot and aware that survival depends on paying attention to everything around us. That is key, not fear of the unknown, awareness of who you are, where you are and what can and should you do. At this time the communication is critical. Jack knows these things as he was communications man/radio operator. Handy skill to help him listen. Some of the important messages had such weak signal strength it was listening intently that made it clear. Shut out the static, the thrum of the ventilator fan and the hatch noise. Stop listening to the ‘world’ and be still.
As is taught in scripture, it’s not the thunder, the wind and the earthquake that our Lord uses to speak to us. It’s a still small voice and as though you are remembering a conversation you had 15 seconds ago. “Turn left up here” “keep your eyes open” “go visit him, you have the time” “walk slowly and stay alert” These are a few that Jack remembers. Falls in the category of what is God telling me to do. It usually begins by believing those faint messages are there for you. You alone. Keep listening. He will tell you he loves you right here, right now. Often He will tell Jack to do something that either seems imposible or simply, Jack does not want to believe what he just heard. It’s ok. The Lord is patient and kind. We can hear Him if we want to. He isn’t going to tell us to go to Africa (usually) and it’s things that we can do to make things right. He’s pretty good. Jack
There were two rebellious mid twenties men. Just out of the military and eager to break out of their mediocre lives and go reaching for meaning, adventures. The usual. It’s in an earlier story of the ‘Motorcycle Pilgrimage’ series one through six at the website: Gatorsgracenotes.com
Just two reliable, strong, determined young men traveling across this wondrous country they had just finished defending against all enemies, foreign and domestic. I did not know that the domestic enemies would be soon in control. Some of us with any classical education and moral knowledge are aware of our human condition. We follow our wicked hearts and believe they are right and true. Same old game of new ideology. Interesting how the core of that word translates really well from the Russian word; Idiot.
We had to find a way to San Francisco and in those days there was no Alexa, Map quest or cell phones. Paper maps, usually free in friendly gas stations were the guides. We had heard of Route 66 and that was the path they traveled. The maps helped a great deal as we got sidetracked now and then with short cuts that were not.
This is all well and good and not the real topic of this column. It’s just a lead in to the real focus of my mind. Of what use is a map, a good one? How does it help us reach a destination or better yet, an achievement at the edge of the map? Memory savants can memorize the entire map in a second or two but that isn’t the point. Arrival, fulfillment, are these destinations? Of course not on the map as promised by our minds.
Our destination was freedom, fellowship, worth and enjoyment of life itself. The map said San Francisco. “If you’re going to San Francisco, be sure to wear some flowers in your hair” went the song sung by Scott MacKenzie. It was number ten on Billboard and everyone knew it and the sentiment. Destination for the true believers of freedom. 1967, the summer of love. It wasn’t but that’s not the topic of this column either.
If we have a really good book, the best book about anybody. An autobiography written by a new friend Would we know them? Would I know about my wife Julie? Facts certainly but knowing someone is only done with intimate relationship. Talking, looking, asking and conversations. The heart of the person that is in print is not felt by us. Nearness, face to face and honesty are keys to knowing a wife, a friend and the object of a map of some kind. A complex map, a map drawn by the lover of our souls.
Being a scholar of scripture can be wonderful but it only goes as far as the map and our imaginations can go.
Asking brilliant questions and getting answers from other seekers of Jesus. His wonders, His appearances and guidance are spoken of and the most brilliant teachers are eagerly embraced and listened to.
But.when you have studied this map and followed it to the end a decision must occur. Listen and focus on Him and Him alone. Pray for His prescience in your heart. Do not invent pious sounding prayers and expound on your extensive knowledge to script your thoughts. Embrace Him with all your heart and just be quiet without expectations or images. Pray for His spirit to be seen by you as it has been there within you when you have asked for it. Open up your heart and accept, the beauty and love that you believe. This is the promise of Faith and it is the very gift of God. He will put the robe upon your back and ring upon your finger. He is the lover of your soul, created at the beginning of time. Yours and yours alone for such a time as this. You are embraced.
The navigator has indeed been correct and the map is good and true. The Helmsman has followed the stars, compass and the sextant and the destination comes into view. Just over the horizon is landfall and joy breaks forth within. Now reality firms up and studying is over, conversation and excitement now occurs that’s right and true. The harbor pilot comes aboard and it’s time to put aside the maps and charts. Prayer becomes intimate conversation and when it’s time, then comes the liberty boat to take you across the bar and home. It’s pretty good. Jack Gator scribe
There is something special about Gator’s living room chair. It is very comfortable and with a quilt, precious and defrayed sleep arrives. A book by Jack’s favorite author is icing on the relaxation dessert. A delightful meal of home grown baked chicken.
Home grown cauliflower, rice and squash accompanied by family grown heritage wheat baked into flatbread. A bit of cranberry wine and the Friday Shabbat with candles and a blessing and a toast to the King of the Universe. A worthy communion every Friday (not religiously but joyfully) and the family digs in around the table. It is more than sufficient to get Jack’s nose out of a book and into the kitchen.
The rest of the week can vary from the ‘smash and grab’ style from the fridge to a giant pot of rice and vegetables flavored with Tikka Masala and Bragg’s salty sauce. Food, it brings people together to feast and relax. Perhaps it doesn’t explain the lone man, sitting on the counter stool eating breakfast. No one to talk to except the wait staff.
A nice slow breakfast with perhaps a newspaper on the left side of the plate.
Often, that is Jack sitting alone, munching his exquisite designer cinnamon toast and drinking the best coffee he can make. What is it about eating either alone or with loved ones that satisfies? Sharing favorite food with people you just know will enjoy what you have.
There is a similarity with attendance at the ‘church’ of familiarity or new. The term church refers to the people of the world around us that profess a Christian faith, not a building perse. Names are used from scripture to make it easier to find the buildings and tell others were you go to be in fellowship. You know them, most of them. Of course, being used to Jack’s penchant for oddity he wonders why certain names, scriptural names are not used.
The first church of Long suffering perhaps or the church of Self-Control. Jack likes the church of fruitfulness.
An expected and surprising fact is that intimacy with our Lord Jesus and intimacy with one another usually begins with shared prayer. Jack and his wife have found great freedom and developing relationships with small groups of people that pray audibly with one another. Most, if not all gatherings of worshipers on Sunday do not know each others spirit intimately nor pursue it. Praying for one another engenders another level of pleasant, fulfilling growth with fellow believers. The size of the congregation seems to not be a factor in the amount of people who join together for prayer during, before or after ‘services’ (an annoying word for Jack. He associates that word with plumbers or oil changes)
Julie and Jack find themselves drawn to prayer groups anywhere they go to. In small gatherings and huge ones of ten thousand. The interesting fact is that the number of people who do this intimate praying seems to remain the same no matter the size of attending worshipers. Around five to ten people are drawn to pray with others in the time that everyone gathers. They were concerned when they visited a pleasant and very large mega church that has sattelite viewing locations. About ten huge buildings within the metropolitan area alone. All of them linked to the main campus for the message.(Available on the internet for anyone as well.) What will it be like? A revival such as the stadiums filled with Billy Graham speaking? It was impossible not to visit and see.
A gathering they went to a few years ago on the National Mall in D.C.was an intimate group of a dozen or so in one tent. They sang and prayed in for 24 hours. In one tent. There were 50 tents on the mall. One tent for each state. It was a huge event and it also encouraged small groups all at the same time. A vast majority of people are not drawn to pray in small groups, out loud with one another. Puzzling but familiar to Jack and family. Intimacy with Jesus engenders intimacy with believers. It’s always fear of being exposed to another, a stranger. So no matter the size of the ‘congregation’, prayer teams stay the same size. It’s not everyone’s cup of tea. That’s perfectly OK and expectedly normal. It’s hard to have an intimate relationship with large numbers of people. Mega churches no longer look intimidating to Jack. Just the parking and if there is decent coffee available. The priesthood of all believers is an old perfect term for Christian gatherings. It is how it was done in the first century. No Wi-Fi hotspots in those days.
Intimacy with Christ is an easier task with shared prayer however. The world now has a fear of being ‘exposed’ for the weakness we all have in our life. However also being exposed with Jesus’ spirit living inside. Jack is learning this about himself. The hard life and the wounds he has had have actually made it easier for him. Hunger for real life. Hunger to speak and hear from our lord and Savior. Jesus gathers those prayers in a bowl in the heavenlies and hears them all and never forgets any of them. He showed that to John on t he island of Patmos a few centuries ago. He wrote it all down for us. What he saw and heard.
A friend. A man that Jack went to school with back in the sixties in Minneapolis, his name is Ken. He calls Jack now and then and they meet once in a while. The distance between their homes is a lot and it isn’t easy to meet in person. They met again recently at a restaurant in Minnesota, one of the those bar-restaurants with good rail scotch and passable food. Ken got there first and pretended to be passed out at the reserved table. First sign of humor. Those things really appeal to Jack. Humor is mostly laughing at ourselves, with good reason.
It was with surprise that they met as each one of them had so much in common and yet, did not recognize one another. The voices and the eyes were seen by one another as to their identity. There was no question of how old they were and there was evidence easily seen of the decades they share. Wise and wrinkled as badges of honor The two of them knew one another decades ago in a passing way and knew mutual classmates but did not have any memory of anything like a friendship. This was nice and different, world wise they are now. A shared faith and now a bond of strength between them. The fellowship of the cross.
Many of us have this possibility laid before us. It takes the determination of one person to begin the sharing and it’s through faith, the very gift of God. Many of us can be blessed and bless in this way, but it takes courage and determination to do so. Jack and Ken know this now, and and you, reader, can know this too.
Ken is a hidden writer in ways, and his written questions stunned Jack with his friends vision and ability to share it .These words are of great value and Jack wrote them down quickly, fumbling for a pad and pen while still on the phone. Hold on Ken, I gotta write this down! Those 21 words are:
“What can I do? What should I do? What is God telling me to do? What am I willing to do?”
He told Jack of a motorcycle club he belongs to, ‘Bond slaves‘ and they have colors and go to the rally of bikers in Sturgis. They are respected there and with Jack’s old biker experiences, it seems right and good. Jack rode out to his adventures in 69 on an Indian-Enfield with his ponytail streaming and a guitar, bunji corded to the sissy bar. Jack likes to think of now riding a BMW R69 with a sidecar {with full leathers and a good helmet). Ken, said he rides an old Harley. A duo glide or a pan head. An older model that Jack does not remember. Older bikes are pretty swell. Jack rode a flathead 74, chopped, in those shared high school years. It was loud of course.
This is how true friendships begin. Not so much with initial similarities or even histories but with good and surprising things and faith that neither of them knew of each another in the past.They didn’t know those things then either. A delightful surprise for us all it is certain. You can tell if someone is a Christian by the words they choose and a confidence in them. Jack likes to tell people that he sees they are Christian. It’s enjoybable
The other conversations with classmates at the restaurant were dissapointing. As worldly, we are driven to show how our lives are now. With photos and children and exotic trips and possessions that bespeak of good taste and wealth. Jack doesn’t have many photos and he had no concept of bringing any of the ones he does have. His photos are next to the staircase with memories of beauty to see the savior that created all of it. Sometimes Jack feels like George Bailey in Bedford Falls. He was Mr. Potter for a while. But, ‘He made me alive when I was dead and raised me up and seated me with Christ. And It’s by His grace that I am saved, and it’s through Faith, the very gift of God.’A. The fellowship that goes back a few thousand years for us all. It’s history. Read all about it. We did, not looking back. Jesus is solid as a rock for us all. Just ask for that beauty, Jesus knows you and loves you right now. He made you and you are worthy to behold Him It’s pretty good, Jack GatorA. Justin Rizzo
Another early morning with sub=Zero temperatures and the house is a bit cold, down to 64 in the kitchen. The radiators are on and the big wood stove in the parlor has good coals but needs refreshing of some dry wood. A chore for the earliest to arise. Put away yesterdays dishes in the drainer, make the coffee and some toast. Then light up my computer screen and take the usual pills with some juice.(Always taking the anti-seizure pill as the first one, It tastes awful . Wash down the distasteful pills with orange juice. Every day. Always good and this winter especially. It’s comforting to have a schedule. And be warm.
Now, for a reading choice. David Hume’s ‘The standard of Taste’ or Suess’ ‘The birthday bird’ (perhaps Snetches) as a continuation of Hume’s opinion of the Koran. Maybe I’ll just check email and watch a movie about a Japanese bullet train intrigue. Or perhaps complete editing for the umpteenth time of my book with compilations of these columns at the end. Maybe all ot those things, the day is dawning and In the parlor it is warm and comforting.
It is a good clear morning as I extinguish the lights and watch the American flag and flying in the wind. Then I step out on the porch for a few pieces of dry wood and try not to wake anyone up with the clack of the living room door. Snow is piled up feet high this year. I Carefully grab a few logs and check to see if the cats have snuck out to persue the mouse family beneath the pine bush, next to the porch.
These rituals are stabilizing and and easy to do when I am half awake.. Get the keurig going and make a somewhat decent cup with the added ½ and ½. I Put the coffee on the left side of the desk and the warm toast with cinnamon on the right. Keyboard and mouse in front of me and monitor up about 8 inches on it’s shelf with a accumulated pens, paper clips, jump drives, pocket knives, small speakers and headphones. A rather clumpy mess but familiar. A junk drawer right in front of me.
Are you getting the picture? I am an Asberger survivor. My favorite movie, ‘The accountant’ featuring another ritualistic man with a gifting of oddity. Especially the part of sniffing his fingers just before he does his work. Autism spectrum’s are similar. I did have a problem relating in childhood and still use fabric to stimulate calmness and concentration. It’s complicated, an old friend called it ‘pointing’ and that’s pretty accurate. Ask me if you are interested. My wife Julie, is completely at home with it as is my youngest son.
Perhaps now I will start on a column based on Hume’s razor sharp analysis of Plato/Aristotle but that seems a bit foggy until the second cup of java has been drunk. My readers will either enjoy the writing or get confused a bit as I can be until I had read some of those books for the third or fourth time.
I have been called an obsessive intellectual with nearsightedness in several ways. I like to refer to these things as entertainment and stimulated analysis. My family just rolls their eyes verbally and are used to that too. If you find this particular column a bit familiar, perhaps you are as odd as I am?
Psychiatric pigeon holes have to include the roost for the pigeon and the newspaper on the bottom of the cage. If you understand that analogy you are more akin to me than you think. Ritual is stabilizing and necessary to this world’s ways. Grounding might be another way to describe it. It works. It has been a part of my life since childhood and there is no ‘cure’. There are some side effects which can be dealt with. Through good and acurate advice from professional counseling I found I was subconciously driven by fear and rejection. Perceived threats is one of my reactive situations.
My counselor taught me how to read the triggers and the road signs. I have six tenths of a second to make a decision of fight or flight and part of that time to realize there is no threat at all. It’s a good thing for me to know. I usually would choose flight. Suddenly running out, slaming the door and often driving off fast and muttering to myself about something said that was not meant to hurt me at all. Rather awkward to say the least. Scary sometimes too.
I pray that this column is illuminating someone’s behavior and at least, illuminating their friendship with me. My family is very gracious with me and this is indeed, a gift from the Lord to give me a family that will understand and put up with me. I have gotten better at sitting still and listening, talking. There is a humerous line in Monty Pyton’s movie about getting better. I can hear you laughing right now, but if it doesn’t register, I can fill you in. Fiddlingnorm@gmail will get you in touch with me.
Life is good and my best friend Jesus understands everything. He always answers my call for help, and I always need lot’s of it! I do need reminding at times to rely on Him instead of my own understanding. It’s pretty good. Jack Gator.
It was in the spring when Jemimah, the family Brittany spaniel began to show some odd behavior. She had been with the family for over 10 years and Julie had trained this extraordinary dog with many commands. H, speak,crawl, roll over, and a few others. She was really good at begging for food too. Many a meal around the oval oak table would have family plates the focus. The pooch would be on the floor gazing with a fixed stare at those plates. Jemimah loved chewing on ice cubes and when Norm would clink one or two in his favorite glass, she would rush in to the kitchen. Just in case one cube would fall. Norm made sure that would occur.
Jemimah’s odd behavior was physical and worsened rapidly. The DVM was puzzled but saw on an XRay a strange thing with her heart. There was an antibiotic already being used and it seemed to help but one morning the dog could not get up, could not eat nor drink. She would wag her tail lying down whenever told her favorite words: “good dog, good girl” that was all she do now. She convulsed several times and it was decided to have her “put to sleep” When Julie and Toby came back from that event, the whole family lost it. Crying, sobbing and praying for release of the anguish of loss. Surprising emotional collapse really, Jemimah was loved by many friends as well. She had a way of staring into your eyes and then shutting them halfway when scratched just so: under the collar or in her ears. She was buried that evening up on the hill overlooking the home and a small lake on the other side of the ridge. Impossible. Sweet pain,with her favorite rope toy in the blanket as the small handfuls began gently dropping down into the grave. The next day, Norm took a big load of rocks to build a cairn and put grandfathers rock in the middle with some astounding blue and white wildflowers just picked nearby. More tears as they sat on the hill below the grave.No one really slept well. Most of us know this experience. It comes to us all.
The family wondered why there was such a strong, palpable grief with all of them. It seemed it was the first time that the loss was a loss of total love and surrender. More than all the loss’ earlier of people. Stunning and healing beginning of broken hearts among them all. Realization of what total devotion and love really looks like. Decisions to close off their hearts in the past and then being delighted that they had indeed opened their hearts and it was once again, possible. A parting gift from a devoted companion. Loving and loved.
Why is this memory and grief not felt when a sometimes a family member, a father or a sister not felt the same? There were several deaths in Norm’s family, one fairly recently of his sister. The relationship was broken some time ago with her. She was deeply offended when Norm and Julie last saw her. She felt judged and thought she was less loved. The only memory that Norm has of that decades ago visit was the presenting of the truth to his sister. by Norm and his wife, Julie. They remember that there was a very brief moment of mild flirtation that sis gave to Julie. It was clear that Diana had embraced same sex attractions and relationships. That’s a mild way of expressing it. Politically correct in these times. The rulers of Sodom now our rulers.
Later, when Norm worked hard every week taking care of their mother there was little communication or any support from Diana. The usual winding down of a life; assisted living, nursing homes and funeral. A funeral that resulted in Norm becoming a Christian man. Property given and sold and a splitting of the money. Sis was living far away on the west coast and couldn’t help with these things. There was bitterness conveyed over the phone and eagerness to get ‘her share’ of the sale monies. The loan mom had made to Norm for a needed mound system was not quite paid off and sis dismissed it as “that’s your deal” Payment to a merchant that delivered food to mom was still needed to be paid.” If they didn’t bill you for it, then why pay it?” she also said. Anger came from the phone when sis stated she had been cheated when Julie told her she had been overpayed a few thousand more. Sis demanded Norm “Stay away from my kids!” and she also wanted ½ of Moms’ ashes.
Puzzling, astonishing and anger. Just before these unpleasant rages, Norm had embraced Christianity and it was apparent that sis had rejected it. Years later, unable to locate where his sister had moved to, Norm got a Christmas card from Dianas kids. In one sentence of the card, there was mention of the death of Diana and also of their precious dog as ‘difficulites’ they had gone through recently. It was shocking, and yet, a communication between Norm’s and his nephew’s family. It was a start of truth revealed to Norm’s family. The same way Norm was notified of his father’s death. The postal service bringing news. An extreme feeling of rejection that was apparently a family tradition. Greetings from Diana’s son, to her brother and my uncle. Seasons greetings. You are worth a few words of events of some importance. The death of our precious pet and your sister.
These days there is the decline and immanent death of Julie’s father and all Norm thinks about is the inheritance which would help his family survive their financial decline. The recession and reliance on loving sons and their social security to endure the times. Remembering the truth of life and the giver of all things brings him back from fear of loss and he is realizing the world’s fears of loss and destruction. An unexpected vision which gave him release. The photo of her dad embracing their first son, Bjorn, was the only time that Norm had seen love from her dad. The vision of her dad on death’s door being able to embrace his grandsons and know what was happening would be more precious than gold, more precious than silver. It would be enough for Norm. It would be enough when Julie’s dad passes into eternity.
Something similar happened to Norm in a dream. He was with his father. There was Norm’s dad on a subway. Norm was seated and dad was a strap hanger right in front of him. Norm asked, “have you seen the boys?” With a smile, a big smile that had never seen by Norm, his dad nodded yes and it was beautiful. It made things right.
Norm has been given the ability to forgive along with his family and that is the strong assurance of Christ who lives in them, Julie and their sons. Also in their oldness’s wife. There is now a glow of forgiveness does not come with forgetfulness but it comes with Grace and peace and comes with assurance of an inheritance. The treasure of life eternal with the creator of all things. Norm and Julie are praying and thanking for that Holy embrace from Jesus. That promise has indeed been given to their family. It also was spoken by Norm’s friend Chuck when he died. Thousands of miles away. A treasure to him that endures and that event is told to many who want that testimony. It was indeed, a gift of God. Eternal and beautiful. That assurance is a guidepost that Norm’s family can remember and grounds them on solid ground. Blessed assurance, gifts from God are pure Love.
In the end, it’s pretty good. Norm Peterson, the Gator
There was a photo on the cover of a DVD that Gator picked up from the local library. The photo showed all the characters in the movie and it was the first one made of a comedy series with those actors. Startlingly, one of the actors face had intelligence, warmness and composure. The actor’s role was just the opposite, and in other comedy movies and series’, was portrayed as a low IQ goofball. A comedic shortstop that set the tone in various scenes. It was Bob Denver that played Gilligan on the island and Maynard J. Krebs in Dobie Gillies series.
With the recent public persona of wearing masks, Gator resented the lack of personality seen. A lack of smiles given and even compassion and knowledge shown forth. Akin to the actor’s photo, hidden in portrayal of the real person. The folks that have totally bought into the extreme danger of public life, not being told by authority that germs and aerosol microbes are fought with our immune systems. But with the mask, you can see the fear and isolation. Condemnation perhaps on other shoppers for not masking up. Jack smiles a lot and seeks faces that smile. Jack has a good immune system. Comorbidity play a big role in death from the vaccine and infections.
Jack and his family have all had ‘the disease’ and Jack’s short term memory has gotten worse. Is that one of the byproducts of the bad virus? Of course not. Jack is aging and the memory issue is his past duel with seizures that wiped out a portion of his Rolodex for a few things. Some names, some old events that usually allow the family to tell the stories. Not bad actually, Jack can then pull the memories up from a different approach in his mind. He calls it his goggle search engine and works in the background when Jack surrenders for a short while. what he wanted to remember. “Ahah! His name was Edwin! Maybe this is common with aging. Memory has always been depicted in the elderly as clearly remembering the distant past and not the more recent ones. “ Excuse me: what was your name again?” He knows this is more common with everyone. Still, it is irritating.
Jack creates mnemonics to remember names. A story that triggers the name for good. ‘He looks like an Englishman, Mike, a pilot in the big war and his wife, Vickie is a derivative of Vickers, an engine is some of those fighter planes. Things akin to that. Try it sometime! It works to places, names and other memories. Some folks really like it when explained to them. Everyone has trouble with names that are given for the first time. Faces are triggers for all of us and when you can only see the eyes, the mouth and smile are gone and makes it harder to recollect them at all. Some memories such as Quadratic equations or solid geometry are pretty faded but Jack remembers his phone number and city address from seventy years ago. Jackson 9-6604 and 4208 Russell avenue North. His ham radio call sign and the ones of his friends that he tested for novice licensing. That too is in a different location inside and a lot of aged people have that ability too. If Egyptian Pharaoh Ramses could be resurrected, most likely he would remember his adopted son, Moses. Of course, the Smithsonian would really rally around that miracle. “What do you recollect about the Red Sea?”
Jack wonders about what it must have been like for family around Lazarus when at the dinner table he remembered dying and wondered about those three days of inactivity. One of histories stories that has not been clarified. Since it was Jesus that resurrected Lazarus, there is no doubt it was complete. “Lazarus, come forth” was necessary for if Jesus had said “Come forth” there would have been a lot of formerly dead showing up. Maybe all of them. Jack has heard that voice. seen his best friend when that man had been dead for a few minutes or hours perhaps. Jesus giving Jack a small glimpse of eternity and for Jack’s witness. and delight. “ It’s better than you said!” Jack always wonders about that. What did he say to him and what was Jesus doing, revealing eternity to him? As is written in Ephesians, “it’s through faith..the very gift of God” Jack likes gifts from God. As Jack always says, “it’s pretty good” Jack Gator.
The photo of myself that I used at the top was my official Census Badge face. Serious with the hint of who I really am.
Jack was up early and attempting to still his mind and just look at what he could see. It was dark in the living room as it was around 6 am in winter. Looking up to the library windows on the second floor, Jack saw the moon. It was a clear day unfolding and there was good light from that close orbiting flashlight that reflected on the snow.
‘What’s it worth?’ It’s too far away to be any good to anyone and besides, when a man finally walked on it anyone could see it was a dump. No atmosphere, lots of sand and rocks with craters that came from meteorites slamming into a small planet that had no protection from friction of an atmosphere. Great. Nice view of earth anyway. Dangerous trip and extremely expensive as well. NASA was so ecstatic about success of the ‘mission’ and it was a bit dicey getting back as well. Was it worth it? Scientists were pleased and evolutionist thinkers were waiting for fossils and evidence of water. A later trip to Mars was of the same ilk. Prove evidence of life billions of years ago to show the random worthlessness of life itself. Including themselves of course. No astronauts that time, too far. They used robots that NASA controllers fell in love with. Sojourner, Spirit, Opportunity, Curiosty and Perseverance. They eventually ran out of power and died. No two dollar stores there to get spare batteries either. No fossils but some evidence of water. “You need water for life to evolve!” And so the charade went on. It takes approximately 26 minutes to communicate with the robots for commands and then get information. Long phone calls.“We are sorry, due to the high volume of calls…etc. Please leave a number where we can contact you”
The rovers resembled the robot R2D2 somewhat. Very expensive and they are still there. Not working and dusty.
The moon looked good from Jack’s chair but there is enough dust under his desk. It inspired him to focus his mind on a simple word. Worth. What do we have that is actually worthy? Good question and at the time, rather significant. The moon is only handy for tides and that flashlight when it is full. The lonely man in the moon.
No subjects were coming to becoming a ‘worthy’ column and that is why Jack left his desk to just sit in the dark and not think. Just look and listen.
What are we pleased with as having worth? Casual scanning on his computer of on-line auctions reveals life stories. Collections of soda bottles and fancy tables to put them on. Old tools and machinery to fix. Jackets and shoes and all the things we fill our homes with.
Worth a tenth or less of what the previous owners paid (estate auctions for folks no longer able to gaze upon these things) What are they worth now? Bid on them! You may win and then have to go and pick your treasures up 100 miles away. Is it ‘worth it’? Our spouse may have a different opinion. “What on earth is an old wooden turnip twaddler good for?”
As morning went on, Jack’s view of their small farm hove into view and as Jack was now close to 80, perhaps everything he was looking at would be in one of those auctions too. The land is beautiful and the American flag hanging off the porch beam reminds Jack of the flags fluttering from the fantail of warships he served in. That seemed a worthy memory . Thoughts cannot be sold unless written about. Is there anything within view really worthy? The sounds of the family awakening are rising like the dawn and Jack finds that leading to worthiness. His wife and his children. What is it about them that is worthy indeed? Even the dog and cat’s that live with them. They all are worthy and why so? There is love intertwined in the family of life.
Those things cannot be sold. Love cannot be sold, it is priceless and worthy indeed. Most likely as Jack awakens, the whole focus of life itself. Love one another, love your neighbor as you love yourself. Love the creator of all these things seen. The creator of love and a man with fire in His eyes that loves Jack and all people for eternity. This is worth. Jesus is worth it all. He told us this and is always among us to speak life and worthy things to us. It’s pretty good. Jack Gator.
Jack gators grace notes 