Showing posts with label Money Struggles. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Money Struggles. Show all posts

Saturday, December 31, 2016

December 30: Time Unfurls, Funerals, Good Things

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And then occasionally the mountains part.  The tree with the lights in it appears, the mockingbird falls, and time unfurls across space like an oriflamme.  Now, we rejoice . . .

It's all about light and rejoicing.  Moments when the sky opens up, and time comes to a standstill.  The world frozen in happiness, however brief.  

This evening, we celebrated the life of my wife's grandmother.  Funerals are strange things.  They are full of both laughter and tears.  Sort of like life.  We joined together.  Prayed.  Sang.  Shared stories.  Looked at old pictures.  And ate.  It sort sounds like a family Christmas get-together, in a way.

Tomorrow is New Year's Eve.  A time of looking backward and forward.  There have been some really good things that have happened this year.  A promotion at the university.  My daughter turning sixteen.  Good job for my wife that she loves.  My son--funny, full of compassion and love (our parish priest told me a little while ago that my son was "full of light").  Good things.

But there have been challenges, as well.  My dad falling down the stairs and breaking his shoulder.  My mother's failing memory.  Constant money struggles.  Most recently, the passing of my wife's grandmother this past week.  Bad things.

That's what this evening was all about.  Acknowledging the good and bad.  Crying and laughing.  We have a fridge full of cheese and ham and rolls.  Some noodle salad.  Over the next week, we will eat those leftovers.  Remember.  Because memory is a gift for the brokenhearted. 

I hope all my disciples have more good than bad to remember this New Year's Eve.  And ham rolls.  Lots of ham rolls.

Please vote for Saint Marty (Martin Achatz):

Voting for next Poet Laureate of the U. P.

Saturday, November 19, 2016

November 19: Ichneumon Flies, Blood Sport, Money Struggles

"To prevent a like fate," Teale continues, "some of the ichneumon flies, those wasplike parasites which deposit their eggs in the body tissues of caterpillars, have to scatter their eggs while in flight at times when they are unable to find their prey and the eggs are ready to hatch within their bodies."

Weird little fact.  Flies zigging through the air, dropping their eggs like the firebombing of Dresden.  The flies have to do this.  If the eggs hatch inside the flies, the young will start munching on their mommies.  So, it's either kill or be lunch.

Children can be trying at times.  Especially around this time of year, when they are bombarded by commercials for new gadgets, toys, technology, books, music.  The blood sport of Black Friday shopping in the United States.  I must admit to making some back alley deals for a Tickle Me Elmo back in the day.  As a parent, I want to make my son and daughter happy, give them everything they want.

Of course, I've never been able to do that for my kids.  They are pretty aware of the financial constraints that exist in our household.  But, interestingly enough, they have always been pretty happy in our modest home.  (Since my daughter has become a teenager, she's been chafing at the fact that she has to share a room with her little brother.  We're working on that one.)  My wife and I try to give them a good life.  Today, my son gets to go see the Trolls movie.  My daughter gets her dance lesson this afternoon.  Tomorrow, we're all going to see the new Harry Potter movie.  Like I said, we do the best we can. 

Big things--like remodeling the attic for my daughter--take a lot of planning and time and prayer.  A LOT of prayer.  I'm not complaining.  I know that my problems are another person's fairy tale.  My kids are smart and funny and compassionate.  Hopefully spiritual, too.  (My daughter sometimes bristles at going to church, but she eventually comes around.)

I know that I will never be a rich person.  We will always have money struggles.  My kids will never be the best dressed.  My daughter is not going to get a new car as a graduation present.  My eight-year-old son is about eight years away from getting his own cell phone, although he wants one desperately right now.  That's just the life I've chosen.  But I don't think I'll ever have to push my kids out of an airplane to save myself from being eaten alive. 

Saint Marty gives thanks today for his daughter and son.