Wednesday, September 24, 2014

Holy Coldy

My almost-ninety-three year old father has the start of a cold.  I know this because his wonderful neighbor who stops in to see him a few mornings a week, called me.  She also told me that he told her sometime last week that he had passed out cold at some point, not related to anything.  Just passed out, on the floor, got up and carried on.  Never told me one thing about this. So, today, I will go on over to pay him a visit, play my little cat and mouse game that has become part of my life since Mom died, and try to ascertain just what is going on without telling him that I had news from his neighbor. If I do let on, he will never tell her anything again and I will have lost an ally.

So, for now, we're back to that cold he has.  An Upper Respiratory Infection, one that is probably viral in nature, came from some other viral "carrier".  Back to my last post.....those damned hands....of a stranger.  My father hasn't any visitors other than family and lately, that means myself and my husband.  He doesn't shop or go out to eat.  He hasn't been anywhere that would have exposed him to "germs" except for Sunday Mass.  Ah ha!

Now, that brings me to church.  Err, not to church.  Not the one I was told was "my" church or "my" faith.  The one I embraced because my parents and their parents did.  No choice here, just did what they did and found that it is so true, that adage "if you always do what you always did, you'll get what you've always gotten".  Thank you Tony Robbins.  So, I always did what I always did and let's just say it's time to find a new way of doing.  I'm searching but that's not the point of this post.

So, that brings me back to the cold and the doing and the hands and the rituals of the church that I have always called "mine".  The Catholic liturgy includes "offering each other some sign of peace", right smack in the middle of the service.  I suppose that shaking hands comes from the extension of the olive branch from ancient times so, that's what they do, shake hands.  I'm sure my father, following the rules as he does, turns to the people closest and accepts the old shake at the right time and then he returns to his holy thoughts......"do dogs think?"......"when someone is cremated, do they have clothes on?".  My children will know what this is about.

And that all brings me back to where I wanted to be in the first place.  If you always shake hands with people who might possibly be in church, sick as your dog, but afraid that God will be putting a big black mark next to their name should they remain at home, taking care of themselves and saving others from getting whatever they might be harboring, you will always get what you'll always gotten, a cold!!!

Damn you.

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