Part 111 Closure


Sunday May 1 joins the list of “do you remember where you were when…” days. I stay home from church today, learning later that it was accidentally (for me) “youth Sunday” and our choir was not singing anyway. I watch Joel Osteen on TV as he preaches about the importance of laughter in life. Of course, I’d laugh with joy too if I had his handsome looks while my beautiful wife stands at my side! Seriously, he is an inspiring speaker who never ceases to make me feel better by his sermons and books.

I go to sleep early, but Becah awakens me. The TV is on. I must be dreaming. They are announcing that Osama Bin Laden has been killed. Shot by Navy Seals who infiltrated his secret lair in Pakistan. And apparently not existing in hardship conditions either, but rather living it up with wine and beautiful women on hand. The raid was stunningly brave and effective, surprising to those in command who expected someone probably of lesser profile but secretly wishing for the big prize.

The moment brings closure after years of collective waiting, wondering in our country. Those craving justice for lost loved ones or for such an outrageous affront to our security would be comforted. He would join with the Hitlers and other criminals who did so much harm to so many, whose actions would leave an indelible stain on the world. Some, like me, for a time felt he was dead already and the “sightings” and “announcements” he periodically gave were simply the conjurings of some officials in his camp to perpetuate his fear mongering policies.

The strange thing after all these years for me was the act of celebrating someone’s death, no matter who they were and what they have done, especially on a holy day – Sunday. I wonder what the protocol for this should be. WWJD? Of course, this, like any killing of any human, depends on from which lens we choose to view it. The popular, nationalistic response would be to cheer that justice prevailed. The religious response would have been to regret the taking of anyone’s life. Such conflicting responses we are taught from our culture. Like so much in life, hard choices and unclear answers fill our times on this earth.



Part 112 Wrap-ups


The following days are very brisk for May (the temperature one morning drops to the low forties). The clouds fill the sky, then clear by middays. On Friday we drive across town to Baseball USA, a huge sports facility, to play this week’s game. If we made the major leagues with our regular park, we are in the World Series with this one. The girls stare at the size of the place, with so many fields to play on that we wonder if we will find ours. Bree has her best softball game to date, hitting every time up (four), scoring three runs, and batting in two, as the team wins (16-9) with its highest number of total runs scored thus far. After the game, on our side there are nothing but bright faces.

My brother celebrates his birthday, along with Mother’s Day, on May 8. His teenaged son Scott attends, looking pumped from working out. His daughter Stefanie is buoyant due to her upcoming marriage. Such a pleasant day preps me nicely for the next one, where I again go to the hospital, this time for the procedure to have the stent removed. I arrive at 11:00 a.m. and wait until four to start. Much rides on this outcome. I need desperately for this dilation to finally work, for I know what must be done if it doesn’t.

At home on the following days my lethargy continues, perhaps from all the days laboring under the stent and popping pain pills. I have CAT scan at the request of my urologist to see if a kidney stone lurks inside me (he is suspicious due to my incident with the blood in the urine). Back home, the kids hold on to their LOTR addiction, re-watching it in installments. I continue my own kick of listening to Yes wherever I drive. I eat more solid foods now, and they drop fairly well into my stomach, but it requires my eating very slowly and consuming much milk in the process. At least I can eat, though, and for that I am grateful.

Breanna has been tearful the past few days, saying that she misses her mom when she is at school. We think it could be manipulation (Bree being no stranger to this technique). But with everything that has gone on, genuine insecurity and worry can hardly be ruled out. I listen to Rick Wakeman’s “Return to the Center of the Earth” CD on the way to my south campus at work. Becah surprises me today by bringing me an enchilada and guacamole from Taco Cabana for lunch. I realize this is partly a bribe to get me to wade through our calendars together to schedule activities for the next two months. Although planning out my life in great detail is one of my least favorite things to do, the same act brings great peace and joy to Becah. Plus at least it gives me some time alone with her.

Our first rain in a while arrives this afternoon, cancelling softball practice. But it does give us a great opportunity to finish watching (again) “The Return of the King”, wrapping up the trilogy for a second time.

We evacuate the high school on Friday during lunch time after a bomb threat is received. With final exams looming and the encouragement for everyone to start getting serious, as well as due to all the sheer restlessness that accompanies the closing of the school year, it is likely a prank from some fearless student.

Bree completes her swim trials tonight prior to beginning her competitive swimming season. She is first in her group in freestyle and backstroke. Impressive. We haven’t quite wrapped up softball, though, so the overlapping sports seasons are crowding me in right now.

Softball comes to a close on a bright and shiny and surprisingly cool next morning. Bree and I practice a little before her last game begins at 10:30. During the course of the Sea Monkey’s biggest victory yet (20-6), Bree slaps four hits scores three times, and bats in two runners. The team caps off their winning season with a pizza party at DoubleDaves. I eat one slice of cheese pizza, one of spinach/tomato, and one (dessert) slice of chocolate chip. Far below my usual amount for buffet pizza, but today, I am well satisfied with my progress.