July 20: Three Dogs, Two Old Guys, and One Con Job

Today's post is dedicated to life. The one life that we know we have (maybe more, but we won't know the answer to that question until it's too late.) Also, living that life like it is the precious gift that it truly is. Wake up everyday with a grateful heart, thanksgiving in our minds, and with as much energy and generosity as we can muster.

"Start where you are, use what you have, do what you can." Unknown

This is the plaque I made for my camper

Who is the crooked man?

There was a crooked man, and he walked a crooked mile,

He found a crooked sixpence against a crooked stile;

He bought a crooked cat which caught a crooked mouse,

And they all lived together in a little crooked house.

Mother Goose

The payoff

Yesterday Terry asked me to help Jackie take their dogs to the groomer while he went to his weight-lifting football program. So, we got all the dogs in the car. Three Border Collies. Mama - Gracie and her two babies - Rollie and Piper. These dogs are farm dogs - so putting them on a leash to go into the groomer was a task. Rollie broke his leash and gave me a heart attack, but he went right to Jackie when she called. Later we decided to go into town for some groceries at the Price Chopper. While I was waiting for Jackie, my dad came over looking for Phil. I told him he was in the barn. Then I saw the Two old guys talking over the back of Phil's gardening wagon. My dad handed Phil a package and walked away. When we got back from grocery shopping Phil was removing the bush next to Dad's front door. Terry said that he thought Dad asked Phil to do that because he had asked him to do it and he said he'd do it when he had time. I've since discovered that the package that he gave to Phil was communion wafers. So, apparently my father paid a man, older than he, in communion wafers (which are free) in exchange for cutting down an enormous bush. My father is going to hell. He really believes in hell - so he just may end up there given this type of behavior. He's a con man. Phil takes communion everyday, as do Dad and Max when they watch mass on T.V. But, Phil does not go out and does not go to church and because my father is a eucharistic minister (just means he can give communion to shut ins) he provides Phil with the communion wafers, which would be a nice thing to do if he weren't doing it expecting something in return. I'm so ashamed. He and Max have furniture, nice furniture gathering dust in the loft of the shop and when Terry asked if they could put a piece in their house, Max said, "No, that's mine." So for 28 years there it sat. They have two cars. They only need one - Max can't drive anymore - when Kayla first got her driver's license my dad told her that he would sell her the car for what he paid for it. We all know car values go down as soon as you drive off the lot new or used. What an a**hole. He should've just given it to her, but no. Kayla is now 27 and the car is still sitting there unused. As selfish as these two are is how generous our mother was on the opposite end of the spectrum. I remember that once we had a cleaning lady who stole a lap from our house. My mother drove to her house and told her she wanted her lamp back and that she would take her shopping to pick out a lamp for her house. She didn't need to steal, my mother was willing to get and give her whatever she needed. This how I choose to live - giving freely and generously anything that I am able. Seeing Dad and Max at this stage in their lives is not sad - everyone gets old (none of us is getting out of here alive) but, seeing what they've done with the last 30 years makes me terribly sad. It's like they forgot how to participate in life. Instead they observe it on television and through their windows, and sit in judgement over it all.

The tragic part is that they have been invited countless times to participate and be a part of this wonderful family, but have chosen to disengage and act as if they don't want to be a part. Instead, they prefer to say disparaging things about us all to whoever will listen and feel sorry for them. My dad once said to me, "This is the bed you've made for yourself, go lie in it." I hope those words are ringing in his head now.