Rambling

It's not everyone who can say they sang in a backup trio for a very famous group.

I can say that because I did. That group happens to be someone you will recognize instantly. 

Veggie Tales.

Please, please, hold your adulation for later. I get enough of that stuff from my neurologist when he looks at my x-rays. (Because I'm still walking around.)

Yeah, I've done a lot of really cool stuff.

I role played (many years ago, when I was in my twenties) an angry, rebellious teenager.  I did such a good job the rest of the folks attending the workshop didn't believe I was just pretending. I tried to tell them what a nice person I was, and had never, ever behaved that way as a teen. But they never really believed me. It was a very uncomfortable rest of the week. They mostly avoided  me. Sheesh.

I've fallen up the stairs, down a mountain, tripped over my own two feet (and yours too if you get close enough). I've run into walls, furniture, other people and cars.

I've talked to some famous people and people who haven't bathed in years. (and no, they weren't the same people)

I've sung in front of a lot of people, and I've sung in the shower. Guess where I did  my best singing?

I've loved, I've been loved. I've cried and laughed and laughed till I cried. 

I have had great joy in my life, and I have had great sadness in my life. Lots of pain, but a lot of pleasure, too.

So, what am I trying to say here? 

Just that we are a lot alike, aren't we?

Well, except for the Veggie Tale part...

Two Things At The Same Time

How can we, as humans, feel real joy and real sadness at the same time?

But we do, and often.

Right now, I have such joy: Yankee Cousin is landing on Holy Southern Land tomorrow. Her flight is in at 7:30 a.m. and she and Husband should be back from the airport in time for us to all go to church together. Mother is doing well, walking without walker or cane. A nephew is a new daddy as of yesterday, a six pound girl. 

And, I have such sadness: A dear friend of mine is in the process of saying goodbye to her daughter. She has been unwell for a long time, and is now in the last stages of life as we know it on this side. She was unresponsive as of this morning. This dear one is only in her forties. I sang at her wedding. She is their only daughter. And Dog, dear old Molly, seems to be headed for glory land, too. Oh, it may be a few more  months...but things are declining with her health, and we have loved her and she has loved us mightily for nine years. We had hoped for longer.

 I am not comparing our sorrow of the loss of a pet with the sorrow of losing a child. Lord knows, I don't even want to ever know that sorrow.

I thank my Heavenly Father that my peace is not connected to either my joy or my sadness. It is the only constant I have.