Gods and Parents an Monsters? They all give you only what you can handle. They close one door and open a window.
"Don't get up from the table until everyone of those peas has been eaten!"
How comforting it would be to have a God or a Parent or a Guardian Monster who knew the measure of our gullets and had placed the precise number of those little green devils upon our plates that we could, indeed, metabolize.
"I didn't say all but three! I said: 'em all.' You eat those peas. Remember I told you about those Lepers in India. Their mouths hurt so much that they CAN'T eat three peas. And I don't want no mouth (no pun intended) from you."
Nah! My sense is that the sequential moments of chaos ... the moments that it would seem that not another pea can be metabolized ... are unpredictable but are as present in the Last Quarter as others. I don't know them to be more difficult ... but just as difficult, I imagine.
M falling on a wet floor and a few weeks later being trucked to the hospital with what medical folks diagnosed as a coronary. My friend R getting her foot caught on a stair and breaking her shoulder putting her at the mercy of my friend who has now managed to slice his 4th onion in 50 years of marriage and to discover "all the fuss" about onions, noses and eyes. A young woman, near and dear to us, who one night felt she just couldn't go on ... and came within moments of succeeding who now lies in a hospital. A octogenarian colleague who fell, got an ambulance ride to the Hospital, only to discover that fractures were to be the least of his concerns. And two people angry at me for not being 100% available.
"Mom ... Can I finish these last three peas, later."
How do all the kid-jokes end? Something like: "Shut up and keep eating."
Yes, Maam.
It's strange when the high point of a day is tearing-up listening to a 50 year old speech about liberation and freedom. (from Newley and Richard ... 1965?) ... "Birds Flying High? You know how I feel" ... or will, someday.
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