stressed? whoo me??

I stopped at a strip mall grocery store on my way home from work (it’s getting dark)…I see these guys wandering up and down the isles in the parking lot…they are wearing safety vests that say “Crime Prevention” and they are pressing their noses up against the windows of people’s cars.  If they see something in the car they leave this formal looking citation (warning) under the windshield wiper.

I’m leaning up against a tree by my car as they approach…one guy starts towards my car:  “press your nose up against the window of my car and see what it gets ya” I say quietly.

This pretend cop starts off on this long, well rehearsed crime prevention spiel….outlining for me how “stupid” most people are

I listened to the whole thing and then said once again “touch my car and see what it gets ya” whilst examining my shoes.

he says “you can’t touch me!  I’ll call the cops…you can’t touch me”

I look up and quietly reply “go ahead and invade my privacy by pressing your nose up against my car window, that’d be my personal belonging…it will be far far too late for you by the time the cops get here…besides, I don’t have a retirement package and right now 3 squares and a cot with guberment medication and no full time job sounds pretty good to me.”

They left.
I went for groceries.

I think I’m a little too stressed for public consumption…I’m reverting back to old habits.

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I’m afraid…

I’m afraid…
and I don’t mind admitting it

2 weeks ago
my father went to the dr
to see about a persistent cough

he had an xray
that turned into a CT scan
that turned into a broncoscopy

he has lung cancer

this is the healthy one
the guy that still rides his bike
all over creation
at 80

the guy who chops wood
and hauls furniture
and reads about Jesus
ad infinitum

the guy who spent many
many years of his life
working in palliative care
assisting others
through the process of coming to then end…

now we wait
for the results of his biopsy
with hope against hope
that it is not inoperable
that this isn’t
the beginning of a nasty end

the realist in me
knows it’s going to happen someday…
that doesn’t mean
I have to like it
or that I’m not horribly afraid that it’s going to happen now.

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