Quill #90 - Choices

You know how people like to try to cover all their bases? I did that with my kids. I follow a philosophy that has some congruences with Christianity, though it is not close enough that many Christians would agree. However, I'm aware that I'm a fallible person. I wanted to make sure my kids could be saved if it turned out I was all wrong.

Both of them were baptized. Actually, they've both been baptized twice, by two different churches. Just in case. And then I encouraged them to study religions and decide for themselves. We're a hodge-podge family.

Kyrie decided to follow an ancient Egyptian goddess. Spooky chose to follow the Taoist philosophy that I do, though he may have evolved from that since we last spoke of the topic. I -think- my dear-daughter-in-law is Wiccan and hope she'll correct me if that's wrong. And Peregrin is agnostic with leanings toward atheism, if I understand correctly. Grandson and grandchild-on-the-way are both too young to decide, yet. One of my bestest friends is Wiccan, eclectic-style, and her husband is open-minded Christian. Their child is learning many paths to prepare for making her own choices.

I grew up in a household where a minister would be called to deliver a lecture if I even asked a question about other forms of Christianity. I'm still afraid for my children and friends being openly pagan because, in my head, society is not far enough advanced for them to avoid persecution. I fear for them about on par with fearing for an openly gay teen.

I realize things will never change -unless- people like them are courageous enough to stand up for themselves. And I only have to look at their father to see how my kids became heroes. But I'm their mom and I'll always worry.

(images from public domain sources online and Lolcats)

Quill #83 - Halloween Memories #6

Peregrin, upon his return from a year in Korea, was stationed at Ft. Huachuca in Arizona for two years, most of which son and I spent with him. Our first year there could easily be titled "The Year in Which a New Army Family Learns Base Rules." For example, the sameness of every single house is how things are preferred in the military.

Thus, when we planted pumpkins in our back yard and they took over our property, we were not the most popular family on the base. We were the subject of much higher level discussion, apparently, and it was decided that we would be allowed to keep the pumpkins as a form of helping ourselves, much like a garden might, but we were warned that the vines would have to be chopped and removed as soon as the gourds could be harvested. It was also suggested to us, strongly, that, in turn for this favor and leniency, we might take a few pumpkins or a pie to our base commander in gratitude.

When the pumpkins had turned orange and were about the size of cantaloupes, our leniency ended. We were ordered to harvest and clean up the yard. I would have liked to let them grow another couple of weeks but we weren't given a choice in the matter. We did as we were told. I don't remember if we gave any to the commander. I may have given a pie or two. I was not the most docile member of the community, often bristling at rules and orders that didn't seem fair to me.

My second year on base was better, but I was glad Peregrin decided not to make a career out of the military. One four-year stint was more than enough for me. Too many people don't realize that when one member of a family serves, the whole family serves with them, apart half the time and living within strict guidelines if together. The Army didn't just own him; it owned all three of us.

Veterans do deserve a lot of respect for the service they give to country. So do their families.

Quill #63 - Skunk Haiku (2002)

Quill #21 - Buster Daddy (2010)

"Smash his face!" I thought,
Rooting for Marlene in this play.
She swings a crowbar at him a few times,
But the physical is not her realm.
He gets a sore toe and feelings of loss.
She gains some bruises,
A new life, and love,
Harmonic resonances,
A re-gifted son,
A better deal all around than even Roosevelt's.
This generation, one of the first to understand
Why help was needed,
Still has too many voices
Sounding out the praises of abusive corporate partners,
Feeling trapped and unequal to the demands,
Unable or unwilling to leave,
Like battered spouses everywhere,
Downtrodden,
Lacking even a cast iron skillet for weaponry,
Afraid,
And betrayed,
By their own loyalty and lack of options.

Quill #20 - Artist Descending Life (2001-2002)

It's a good thing artists are brilliant

when we can't afford to pay the electric bills.
Understanding balance is an important skill
when we have to do the books every month.
Only a starving artist can make a "Still Life of Fruit"
substitute for the real thing.
Next time let's have "Still Life of Steak Dinner."
Temperamental natures are a blessing
when the bed isn't big enough for two.
Dear Soulmate, in future lives,
let's take turns being practical.
You go first.
Baths are much cheaper when you can draw one.
When they told us we would suffer for our art,
did you think they meant winters, too?
At least we can use warm colors.
We do our best impressionistic work
when we can't focus on our real goals.
I wish somebody rich would tell us what they like
so we could paint it.
It's a good thing artist's don't need their ears to paint.
Then again, they do make an interesting brush stroke.
We do our best work with nudes
when we can't afford to do laundry.
Would you like one cubist or two with your drink?
When the baby was born,
we understood Dadaism for the first time.
Our best life insurance policy is death.
That's when the paintings sell.