Heaven

 

Heaven 

In My Bloodstream: Lisinopril,  Amlodopine,  Omeprazole, Tamsulosin and the residual of Keytruda - and Yervoy,  Anti-diarrhea and Steroids (Prednisone)

On The Stereo: Barricades of Heaven: Jackson Browne (acoustic version)

For the past few weeks, I have allowed  my imagination to stretch well into the years, hopefully yet to come.  I know that religion is out of vogue with many of our younger people, and a good bunch of our older folk as well.  I thought a peek inside this old head might give you some food for thought.

My future heaven.

With so much time on my hands, typically from 4am until my Sleeping Beauty awakes, I have been contemplating heaven, and what I would expect and enjoy.  This has been ongoing for months now, so I have had an overload of expectations.       

Mornings start with my alarm playing a song by The Eagles, reminding me of Glen Frey and his musical gifts. And his too-early departure.   I smile just thinking that I have received so much pleasure from of one of the greatest talent-filled bands ever to grace a stage and record music unlike any others.

In my future paradise, the morning ritual in my house begins with The Today Show at 7 - Kath's favorite morning show.  ESPN at 8 and Fox News at 9.  The tv is shut down by 10.

With the morning shows as background, kitchen puttering produces a breakfast replete with orange juice, bacon, eggs, potatoes, biscuits, honey or jam; topped off with the aroma of a rich, black cup of coffee.  The tv would be turned off at the first sign of irritation - mine.

No daytime tv.  Period.  Unless some sports happen to catch my attention.  The truth is, I would rather be outside playing a little golf.  A good swing or a birdie putt gives me a reason to talk about the round, when the day is done.  Good enough.  Elysian fields need not be cluttered.

There are not many shows to watch on tv in the evenings anymore.  Maybe there never were.    "Ripped from the headlines", seems to be tag line for every cop, hospital and firefighter show.  And they are plentiful.   

Reality shows required no plots either.  No stars of consequence need be hired.  Clever writers have seemingly gone the way of the dodo.  Stupidity and ridicule are apparently preferential viewing to a dumbed-down viewing audience.  My future needs none of this.

On days stuck inside, I play songs from my music library.  Many of the over 8,000 songs immediately deliver me to the place, time and event, where it was first heard.  If that  is not enough, I play our pictures as a background on the television, while the music plays.

The pictures go back to our grandparents' time and continue on through today.  A long, wonderful, rich legacy of family, friends, events, places visited.  Family lost and friends gained.  They provide me a blanket of comfort.  They keep my heart warm.  I have never tired of my music and my images.  Each one is a voyage back in time.  Good times are always worth remembering.  And I have had my share.

A sample......from long years ago.

Sylvia and Gerry arrived in Sweden to join us for a Baltic tour.  They had been through hell.  Missed connections, lost luggage and then found, trouble traveling from the airport to the ship.  The gangplank followed their heels as they stepped on board.

When they found our room, Syl was still holding a bag of Wilkies butter tarts.  They have been a favorite of mine since my school days.  And she knew that.  We were, at this time, living in Tuscaloosa, and she had brought them all the way from Orillia.  For me.  Gerry did share them with me.  I would never begrudge him that.  Thoughtful friends will share my Heaven.

I will return to reading.  Books that I have missed.  Poetry from my youth.  My child bride and I will share some of our favorite passages, and marvel at the craftsmanship.  Cadence, structure, lucidity and subtlety.  Heaven holds talent.  

I can watch my favorite movies whenever I want.

I can see Ingrid Bergman's tear and feel Bogart's love.

I will watch any movie with Kevin Costner, because he always follows his dream.  And, eventually gets his girl.

The Godfather series.  The Star Wars series - in the proper order, thanks to my friend Ranger Rob. 

Zhivago, to finally follow the plot (and the Russian names), and see Julie Christie.

When Harry Met Sally.

Brady will still be playing football for the Buccaneers.

Alabama and Saban will be National Champions.

Alex Trebek will still be waiting for his replacement.

I will never have to read a Thomas Hardy novel.

The Wall Street Journal will continue to print one copy of the Weekend Edition, because I am the last person to enjoy the touch and the smell of paper.  It will take me a week to read and re-read the editorials and opinion.  The luxury of time is mine.  And The Journal obliges.

In Heaven, we walk on beaten trails in hills and by lakes and streams.  I will continue to take pictures of everything beautiful and the many miracles of nature.  The trees will provide shade and allow the warming sun to dance on the lush surrounds.  And on my shoulders.  And dazzle my eyes.

And I will walk on city streets, peeking in windows and feeling dwarfed by skyscrapers.  People shuffle and bustle everywhere, some with purpose, and many lost in the city's sights.  A coffee shop invites, and I obey, ordering a pastry to complement my espresso.  

This will be my Heaven.  

I remember traveling in the Rockies, and watching the prairie dogs flitter in and our of their burrows.  Hiding from everything and anything.  And bears ambling down the middle of the road, ignoring anything in their way.   Even cars.  Their choice was easy.  Face the world.  Fear nothing.

One does not have to be reckless to be the bear.

I will divulge to you my secret. 

My Heaven is here right now.  

Inside my home and outside our door.  I live it every moment of each and every day.  I wake up an am thankful to be alive.  I remember an interview with a football coach who, every day,  pronounced to his team, "This is a day the Lord hath made.  Be thankful and rejoice in it."

You do not have to believe in God to do the same.  It is still your day to to do with it as you please.

I believe my cancer is a gift.  It has taught me the value of life, and how it should be lived.

I believe I should emulate St. George.  I will face fear.  And I will overcome it.

Covid and its derivatives may well continue for years to come.  Will you still be sheltering, waiting for its conclusion, or will you have spent your time with family and friends?

Fear is the only obstacle in your way. 

"I will face my fear.  I will permit it to pass over me and through me.  And when it has gone past,  I will turn the inner eye to see its path.  Where the fear has gone there will be nothing.  Only I will remain."  Frank Herbert's "Dune"

I am not sure that my future Heaven could be better than this one I live each day.  But for the obvious.

Do not let time pass, wasted.  Your life should be as rich as your coffee and be filled with love and commitment.

"I accept the peril / I choose to walk with sublime dread / Rather than crawl in safety." - George Eliot

Whether you are in the canopy of the forest or the canyons of the city, succor life while you are able. Capture your  heaven today.

Madama Butterfly will end my day.  It is a Puccini masterpiece.  And I am able to retrieve it at will.  

Cancer has been a gift.  I do not fear it.  And why, then, would I fear Covid?  Those of you who know Kathy would likely not consider her a brave person.  Yet she has been teaching every day, creating some probability that she might contract the disease.  She also recognized and has assured me that she would protect her children from some mad "shooter",  should some bizarre incident take place.  She, like most all of our front-line workers, is the epitome of "brave".  She believes that children need her, and that is her priority. 

And she is mine.

We all need to be more concerned with the health and care of others, than that of ourselves.

Back next week.