I Miss Her

I miss her not being here…but I understand she needs to be five hundred miles away at her mother's. I am glad she is there…with her mom…holding her hand.

Each day I read her emails on the status of my mother-in-law chronicling the use of supplemental oxygen, the new “hospital” bed, the wheelchair, the edema, the restless waking at night. When I read between the lines I can feel the worry and anxiety of my wife. Each day we are one day closer to the inevitable…one hundred and three years, five months, nineteen days and counting. I can only imagine that it is as painful as giving birth. Like the labor pains, each day is an emotional and physical challenge. It is painful but will be worth it. The end result will be as joyful as a new birth and in some strange way will be a birth into eternal life…a joyful life indeed. All the tears will be wiped away…all the pain and heartache gone.


So for this I pray

Now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray the Lord my soul to keep;

if I die before I wake,

I pray for God my soul to take.
Amen.

Bad Habits?

We’re all creatures of habit…so…be careful with whom you hang out. It all starts innocently enough with those people. You begin hanging around those who hang out at church. The first thing you know, you’re hanging out at the same places. Then you start going to an occasional Mass. Before you know it you’re going on a regular basis. Then you find yourself showing up for daily mass, partaking of the sacraments, listening to the WORD, and on and on. Without realizing it you’re hooked. The mold is set…the die is casted. You’re caught in an ever-tightening spiral that sucks you in. You are helpless. You give up and you give in.

Dear Lord Jesus;

I know it’s been a long, long fight,
It didn’t happen over night,
But I’m so glad I finally caved,
Thanks to You I‘ve been saved.

Thanks for all the people sent,
Who knows where I would have went,
But now am hooked from above,
Addicted to Your awesome love.

Amen

Bad Choices

To my beloved grandson;

Cameron, Please forgive me. I was wrong making you choose between playing your X-Box and going to church. After returning from Sunday Mass I realized that God never forces anyone to love him. It’s a free choice and the choice is entirely yours. Regardless of your choice God will always love you and I will always love you.

But believe me it really hurts to see you making the same mistakes I made as a child. Those choices have consequences…I can assure you…the consequences are not fun.

So…words to the wise…learn from others mistakes, don’t make all the same old mistake I did.

Love always
Dado

Dressed Up

I dressed up in my Sunday suit…actually my only suit…white shirt and red tie. As of late, I’ve been wearing this same outfit, each and every Sunday. This is all part of a new strategy, a new and long-range strategy. While I am a bit uncomfortable I feel the sacrifice is well worth it. My plan is to wear the same suit every Sunday and then on Judgment Day…in an attempt to be recognized. For nothing would be worse than receiving the “Depart from Me, I never knew you” speech. At a minimum, I’m hoping for “Don’t I know you?” or “Where have I seen you before?” So I might answer “Yep! That was me, at your Fathers house." I think the plan might work. There is a method to my madness.

These days wearing a suit to Sunday Mass definitely makes you stand out. I am even considering sitting in the front row. I need to take advantage of every opportunity I can.

Actually, I am counting on a lot of forgiveness and God’s infinite mercy.

Perhaps I need to reconsider my actions when I am not wearing the suit.


Dear, Lord Jesus,

In this world of grand, to be a Dapper Dan
It is the clothes that flatters
It’s often said, that when you are dead
There’s nothing more that matters.

But when standing alone, before the throne,
I question this worldly notion
As I face my wrong, without one stitch on
It seems a foolish potion.

If ever my needs outweigh my deeds
This would be the instance
For this is the place, for God’s mercy and grace
And I accept with no resistance.
Amen.

Memory Card

I removed the 1 GB memory card from my broken camera, stuck it in the iMac and hoped for the best. Amazingly the images displayed onto the screen…images of the Alaskan trip. Looking at all the faces and places took me back…back in time…back to my college days. It was all the same faces, all the same friends; it was just as if time did not exist. Yet, there we were all on a once in a lifetime trip.

We laughed, we joked, and we enjoyed each others’ company. We did all the touristy stuff. At Fairbanks, we did the paddle wheel steamer, the abandoned gold dredge, and panned for gold. Then we rode the train to Denali, day tripped through the park and motor coached to Seward to board the ship for Vancouver.

We sailed across the Gulf of Alaska to Glacier Bay with its mountain of ice. We tied up at Haines and took the ferry to Skagway where we rode the train to the top of White Pass. I wondered how the Gold Rush Stampeders could have each hauled two thousand pounds of supplies up and over the pass in the dead of winter.

My best friend, my wife, and I rode up the tramway and viewed Juneau from the top of Mt. Roberts. We zip-lined down through The Tongass Forest and repelled down to an awaiting boat. At Ketchikan she again ventured out of her comfort zone and we kayaked to the island of Tatoosh where we observed bald eagles in great numbers and harbor seals (all within a stone’s throw). Only later back in our cabin aboard the ship did she admit how much she enjoyed it. Each night we all sat around the big table and shared a meal and stories of the day’s adventures.

After two days of meandering the city Vancouver, visiting Stanley Park and walking the Capilano Suspension Bridge we packed up and headed to the airport for our flight home.

Thank you, lord Jesus,
For good sights
For good times
For good friends
And the good sense to enjoy them.
Amen.

Land of the Midnight Sun

Travel log Date: 7-2-2010
Fairbanks, AK
Time: 4:30 am (Alaska time zone)
Temp: 62deg F -- Dew point: 57 deg
Wind: SSW @ 7
Sunrise: 3:14am -- Sunset: 12:38 am

If I were home it would be 7:30am and I would have been up for 2 hours. But here, not even the locals are awake. I sat alone on the outdoor deck at the hotel enjoying the solitude and looking at the incredible array of colors that populated the plethora of flower boxes with delicate poppies, buttercups and forget-me-nots. No one stirred in the early morning still…the streets were quiet…neither a tour bus nor tourist moved. The maudlin Fairbanks sky faded from a dark gray in the east to a crystal clear blue in the west. The sun’s rays pierced through holes in the clouds like a laser that burned through to the frozen tundra.

This was my third trip to the land of the “midnight sun”. Alaska is a place that has always beckoned me with its stark rugged landscapes and majestic beauty. The thought of surviving its harsh and unforgiving weather has a mysterious appeal that I cannot explain. But, this time it was different. I was a prisoner of the tourist industry and I knew it. My worries were not about…being eaten by a bear or surviving a forced landing, but were about retrieving my lost luggage from the airlines or which coat and tie I should wear to dinner.

I was unaccustomed to this type of adventure, this type of travel. Tipping all the bus drivers, tour guides, waiters, bellhops and doormen was far from what I was familiar with, at least, not in Alaska. I didn’t bring any survival gear; no sleeping bag, no hiking boots, not as much as a pocket knife for fear of airport security taking it. My only means of surviving was a VISA card and a handful of cash.

Yesterday, we witnessed a team of Alaskan huskies pulling a muddy 4 wheeler and a “real” Athabascan Native Village from the deck of an “authentic” riverboat paddle-wheel steamer; complete with diesel engine and hydraulic drive motors, bow and stern thrusters. It would have made Walt Disney proud.

Later, we visited the abandon Gold Dredge #8 and then actually panned for gold. After an exhausting few of minutes of backbreaking work…sifting, separating and washing gravel and dirt from a couple of tiny gold flakes…we were ushered into the gift shop where we left all of our hard earned money…just as the Stampeders did in days gone by.

All I could do was try to melt into the crowd and be lead aimlessly from gift shop to gift shop. Attempting not to get swept up into the buyer’s excitement…I looked in vain for an Alaskan souvenir that was not made in China.

The following day it was a bus trip around the city of Fairbanks, then the train to Denali National Park, another six-hour bus ride thought the park to see “The Tall One” which was hidden by fog.

After Goggling Mass times on my Blackberry only to find places that were unreachable and at times that were unacceptable…I was really starting to feel trapped by the system. I was uncomfortable with the “you’re traveling” excuse and felt a tremendous urge to attend Sunday Mass. As we returned from our stimulating school bus ride through the cloud obscured Denali Park Mountains, we stumbled into a Saturday Vigil Mass in the Park’s theater. Thank you, Father Jack, for traveling the three hundred miles each weekend to serve your mission churches. Call it coincident or a mini-miracle; I just love it when God makes things happen that I can’t.

The next day it is Wasilla for lunch, through Anchorage, past Turnagain Arm (with it’s 40 foot tidal changes) and down the Kenai Peninsula to Seward. Planes, trains, and buses…every stop was crowded with people and that seemed to water down the awesome beauty of the landscape. The bus drivers/tour guides pointed out tiny dots on far away mountains identifying them as moose, bear, Dall sheep or caribou. I personally believe one would have needed the aid of an observatory class telescope to actually identify anything at that distance. I suspect that wildlife would shy away…far away…from the stream of motor coaches that clattered and cluttered the highway.

Tomorrow we sail. Across the Gulf of Alaska to Glacier Bay then down the Inside Passage to Haines-Skagway, Juneau, Ketchikan and finally Vancouver. I am looking forward to an adventure on the high seas and to visiting Southeastern Alaska…an area, which I have never seen.

“There are strange things done
in the midnight sun
by the men who moil for gold”…by R.W. Service


Thank you, Lord Jesus
For the mysteries,
For the miracles,
The land magnificent
And the midnight sun.
Amen

Wildlife

Alaskan Wildlife can be dangerous "especially during the rut"

A Comforting Comment

This is too good not to share.

Gene,
I am glad to hear that I am not the only person a little short on knowledge of French cuisine. On my first trip to France to startup a new refinery I went into a nice restaurant near our apartment and the only thing I recognized on the menu was "Steak Tartar" which I ordered. What I got was a pile of raw hamburger meat garnished with chopped up raw onions. On another occasion I ordered Burger Cheval. What I got was a horsemeat hamburger and actually it was pretty good except the idea of eating “Trigger” was hard to get over.

Bill

Thanks, Roy, I mean Bill

Adventure On The High Seas

I wasn’t sure what I was getting into when I signed on for the voyage. I envisioned sailing the seven seas and washing down stale hard-tack with a bitter rum grog while waves crashed over the fo’c’sle. I pictured myself returning a seasoned and salty seaman. But, after seven days at sea it was all I could do to waddle down the gangway. I struggled with my land-legs under the additional burden of fifty pounds. The fifty pounds I had gained from the non-stop eating at various food bars, cafeterias and dining rooms on the ship.

Each evening, in the formal dining room, it proved to be a challenge and an educational experience for myself...an accomplished “over the sink eater”. Dressed in my Sunday best I ordered from a menu coded with French words. I knew I was in trouble when the menu had no pictures nor were the items numbered. I’m more comfortable ordering the #2 with mustard, tots and a DP. No such luck.

Turns out “Vichyssoise” means cold potato soup and “ox tail soup en croute” means runny beef pot-pie. Apparently, it’s all about presentation. The food was picture perfect...I wanted to photograph and frame it...but had reservations about eating it.

The fear of the unknown worked in my favor and it helped to curtail some of my caloric intake but somehow in spite of my fear I still managed to bulk up.

I’ll start my diet tomorrow; but until then, “Bon Appetit”

Thought For the Day

Life is like a day at the beach…it is a wonderful experience with all the salty sea smells, sights and sounds. At the beach…like in life…you are going to get a little burned and a little sand in your shorts. As wonderful as it is…once is enough for me.

I look forward to an eternity without sand in my shorts.

Thank you, Lord Jesus, for the sun, sand and surf.
Amen