Love-inception!
Oh! Lord! Pray
I! Thank Thee for sacred-life and mostly---for…holy-Love!
Such a resume-outline for what? Some preordained conclusion? Money? Fame? Celebrity?
Someone “else’s” predetermined choice for me? Not hardly! Not this time around! Amen!
Early on I quickly learned to admire and
revere that unique American spirit
that made this the greatest nation the world has ever seen, to date,
exemplified by the holy Independent
Individual!
Too many episodes of my childhood
heroes: Superman and The Lone Ranger! Not “too many” for me,
personally, I can’t get enough of Truth!
Justice! & The American way! Amen!
Of course, the child-innocent inevitably grows physically,
mentally, and spiritually bringing to the forefront a plethora of (Oh! Dear God!) reality-of-life, rules,
limits. Parameters, adults!?
Tough! For a spirited Rebel! Rascal! Rogue! Rapscallion! Hedonist!
To abide. Hmm!?
That special, sacred, holy, treasured,
revered Gift-of-Life through precious
Love seemed obvious to a kid with
only a single ambition: Enjoy the sweet nectar of every facet flat-out!
And, I did just exactly that! To the
very fullest! Often! And, forever! Wow!
No wonder!
Such irresponsible, immature attitude works fairly well for a child; as
one grows, however, the luster of a cavalier Devil-may-care personality seems to grate on the “elite”
authorities who diligently try to keep the ever-loved status-quo just that, the same
forever! Wow! Boring!
And, therein lies the Truth of me and of the “matter”
itself---I’ve never been…bored! Amen!
As for my spiritual soul? Well! Now! How about reverently serving sacred mass
in fifth grade? Aspiring to become a Catholic priest by enrolling in the
seminary (if they’ll have me) at the end of eighth grade? (I even took the
entrance exam! Wow!) All of
that---then…Candy-girl!
Just how “lucky”, actually, blessed, one
man might be defies any explanation! Amen!
So? Here I am at the tender age of
twelve, one fine Saturday morning working on chopping down a dead cherry tree
positioned on the property line between my dear Grandma’s garden and the
neighbors land. Busily hacking away with a hatchet and probably considering my future pastoral duties and
responsibilities after becoming a clergy, I see across the way that Vision-of-a-beauty, pretty little
Candy-girl walking down the side street toward her home about a block and a
half away. I kept at my labor while surreptitiously watching the auburn-haired
beauty approach.
Too shy (and, with the seminary close at
hand) I feigned apathy at her loveliness.
“Whack!”
Next thing I know is I nearly made myself unable to further ever count to “ten”
by half as I came way too close to my left hand with the evil hatchet. Whew!
“Hey! Big boy! Don’t hurt yourself!” I
heard the “passion” words of Miss
Beautiful addressing “little-ole-me”! Wow!
I didn’t even know she knew who I was. Later, by several years, Lovely Lady Candice Leah allowed that
she never called to me that day. Hmm!?
Memory attests to the sacred-Truth of
my recollection (and, I remind you, I
do speak Truth, or, at least, I did so back then) Remember? I was going to
the seminary to become a priest?
Just a little while later, my thoughts
turned to Love and the seminary and a
white collar were quickly lost to a pursuit of spiritual bliss in the delightful company of my Lovely Candy-girl!
For twenty years, or so, after we were
wed, I bragged about my saintly wife.
Then, one fine day I paused, considering. Slapping my palm against my forehead,
I exclaimed in realization: She’s no “Saint”! She’s an “Angel”! I thank God for
her Love each day!
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