The What and Who of Death

  My formative years included strict adherence to the Baptist religion. There was never an excuse to not show up for Sunday School because there was an old bus that was used to pick us all up to go to church.  Some of my neighborhood friends also went to my church. We often tried to recruit other friends from the neighborhood. Of course recruitment was an important goal, because it brought in more who could donate.    In boot camp for the U.S. Navy, Sunday was still set aside as a day for rest as an adherence to religion. These Sundays were the only days we looked forward to, because any other day was just a day of being broken down and built back up to be good sailors.  I don't think I've attended church since graduating Navy boot camp. This does not mean that I've lost my religion. I simply do not subscribe to organized religion.  What is the history of religion? We know there were polytheistic periods long before the Abrahamic religions which brought us ...

I know that this sounds morbid but these are the thoughts that go through my mind as I realize my own mortality. Throughout my life I've been spiritual I understand the different ideas of afterlife. There is nirvana which is to die and go on to nothing. Catholicism is about being reincarnated. There are some cultures that do believe if they consume the dead the dead will live on in them. And even further there is nothing after death just a big empty void as was before birth.  When I think of reincarnation I think of being raised by someone else not knowing anyone and having to go through growing up again. That is not something I want to do. I want to think that I can still see my loved ones not growing up with new loved ones.  It has taken me a long time to write about this I have written down all my thoughts and I think I'm just going to put them here. To organize those thoughts is really hard the reason I decided to do it this way is I was just again reminded in the NCIS sea...

Looking back on all the people I've met along Life's journey, I have come to realize a particular mantra that I have heard again and again. "Friends come and friends go". I don't know to whom the phrase is attributed, but it is poignant when thinking of all of those who have gone their separate ways.  I see Facebook friends state that they will be "cleaning house", a colloquialism for unfriending people on their Friends List. I, too, will be doing this soon.  Growing up I befriended a kid who I had hit in the head with a chunk of concrete. Geno and I became best friends after I was told to apologize for what I had done. Geno was one year older than me and one grade higher in school and we became best friends. I was new to Hamilton and there is like this unwritten rule that new kids must do what they can to fit in with the cool kids. Geno was not one of the cool kids.  We had quite the imagination. We often rummaged around in old abandoned houses. We buil...

     Who remembers their first move? How many have moved more than once in their lifetimes? How many felt those moves were more of an adventure than a hassle? I suppose age plays a large part in how we answer that last question. For me, the first move came at a time in my life where I was just starting school and making new friends. I was 5 years old when we moved to Hamilton. This was a pretty big move, it started out like an adventure but turned into an arduous journey for a five-year old kid. Only looking back, do I clearly see the adventure.       I remember quite well the days leading up to the move. There was a lot of packing, of course, but there was also our dogs and a cat that had to be taken care of by family friends during this move. A friend of my father's had an old route van that we used to move stuff into storage. Just remembering this, tells me there were phases to this move. The biggest thing I remember about the phases was the moving ...

      We live our lives with memories that are our own and then there are the stories that fill in the gaps of our memory timeline. This blog will be partially written by just such stories.      Both of my parents had jobs when I was a newborn and when my mom returned to work, my grandma Dorothy took care of me at our home in the Helena Valley. I like to use the word "surrogate:" rather than babysitter. Is that weird? They are like parents, in the case of my grandma, well, she's my parent's parent.      There is one story that has been told over and over about the day I went missing. In an age long before Amber Alerts, I went missing and my grandma did not know what to do. The county sheriff was alerted and my father apparently knew someone in the National Guard and they sent in a search party. The story goes on to say that I just came strolling back with my two dogs at my sides as if  I were out on a normal walk. About my two dogs, one ...

      As a citizen fulfilling my duties as a citizen, it occurs to me that something has gone horribly wrong in our country. People are voting by emotion rather than ruminating and digesting what they are voting for or against.      I have other blogs/memoirs ready for upload, but I feel compelled to write about the current political environment from my perspective. I know that many will stop reading right here, because there aren't many who care about another's perspective. That is fine, of course, because the purpose of this isn't to change your mind but only to show you different vistas with how I view this election and why I voted the way I did.      My life has taken me to some very interesting places during very interesting times. I've seen the Middle East floundering and I've seen it flourishing. I've seen Ground Zero in New York thanks to some great friends that I met in the Navy. I was raised in the rural north, but have been to...