Tuesday, September 11, 2012

John

Family has been a serious point of contention in my house of late. The little and big issues, old and new injuries. But we got that call late in the night last week. He wasn't breathing. They couldn't get a pulse. They brought him back, but he's in a coma and the doctors don't know yet. The CAT scan came back negative for brain activity. We're going to let him go.

I remember John asking me to dance at the wedding, and smiling up at him. I have a great picture of the man with a lantern on his head, joking around with the girls there too. John and Eileen called me often, especially that first year, to check on me and say hi and keep me from getting too lonely while David was in Iraq. John always asked, "How you doin, girl?" and made sure I knew he was thinking about David and me. He asked after my work, always said, "I'm fine," when I asked--even when I knew he'd been sick--then nattered on about home. Never complained, always interested to hear more about the house or the books or the girls. And he made it a point to say, "Love you" and "So long," never goodbye.

John, you were all the great things a father-in-law could ever be, and one of the sweetest men I have ever known. I'm going to miss you, laughing and kidding around with you most of all. Be at peace and do not worry about anything. We'll take good care of your lady, and I promise to try to take good care of your son.

Rest in peace, John Picture. We love you. So long.

"Whither shall I go from thy Spirit? Or whither shall I flee from thy presence? If I ascend up into heaven, thou art there: if I make my bed in hell, behold, thou art there. If I take the wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea; even there shall thy hand lead me, and thy right hand shall hold me." Psalm 139:7-10

Saturday, March 31, 2012

February, march!

Status of resolutions:

I still can't do a pull-up. And I totally skipped posting writing for February and just in on March. However, to prove that I did in fact get writing done...I present to you, World, my thesis, "Riff Writing."

Fun fact! M.F.A. stands for "Mother*ucking Awesomeness." And now I am an M.F.A. because this puppy was accepted "in partial fulfillment for the requirements for the degree of Master of Fine Arts in Professional Writing." I don't know why they accepted it, but they did. Which makes me a master of fine arts. And a mother*ucking awesome.


Sunday, February 5, 2012

Resolve

I promised I would do this and so I am. This is a short story I wrote a little over three years ago. Probably needs more trimming, which I will do in the next few weeks, but to get the ball rolling... I'm already 5 days late to post for January. Here goes.

People who read it may recognize certain people and circumstances. This is a work of fiction, very loosely based on events involving real astronauts. "Ripped from the headlines!"