She was upon first sight and first step through the door of hospice a remarkable woman of feasible age for a lover or whatever could be potential between us. As time evolved I began to see her differently from brief moments respite between urgencies and shared thoughts concerns histories and I teased her about being a transvestite to which she replied, "Oh yes I had one of those while working in a mall." That was more-or-less three years ago when I first started out in the field the county of Dona Ana, New Mexico.
Due to Medicare cut backs three times in three years 10% each year and those swine in the congress of baboons continue to raise their salaries. So much for transparency and honesty from or in government.
I was recruited to volunteer instead in the clinic representing 20% of what hospice does otherwise in homes, nursing or assisted living facilities. My telephone answering training was brief and inadequate to my understanding but I persisted and they haven't kicked me to the curb yet or thrown me beneath a passing municipal bus . . . they'd have to carry me out gagged and bound leaving me restrained for trash haulers to drive me away.
She by what she said is my ideal of womanhood yet I became aware of her lover husband who gifts her with roses and her fabulous girls three who also volunteer. My desire for her incorrigible until one day oddly alone in an momentarily empty corridor I said for the umtimillionth time spontaneously, "God you are gorgeous!!" To which she replied, "Jack lets not let this become a problem between us."
End of lust beginning of a friendship expressed when in silence we rush past one another and she touches my shoulder I shutter with joy. We're now more like than unalike buddies or comrades at arms in the war against meaningless death. And for those "swine" or "baboons" cannibalizing this once glorious nation we inhabit we'd together serve them equally with the indigent while begging for funds to keep the doors open 24/7/365. Since in this vocation of choice we know the democracy of death when naked we die leaving behind all vanity; no ego need apply.
Bull shit -- talking the talk, walk the walk with me and learn what it means to be fully human and hell become a distant fairy tale.
I don't know how to write but why and why oh why this date, this time these closing hours this day slouching into night why have I been repeatedly drown in a deluge of synchronicites?
But to explain that would render love in abstract, facts, figures, motivations explicitly personal but simplified in that: When serving the dying I see myself in them expiring and bless them silently in passing the cup of water requested or visiting Her/He in prison and in that modest gesture know more wealth than I can count.
Joy! We two become three the Friend of Life and Creation visiting us not in mediation but celebration.
But.
But!
But?
Why am I visited while alone as well?
I write simply because in prayer I asked for something to do independent of all else.
God grants rewards beyond my manic lust, most frantic greed, all needs fulfilled in the emptiness of silence -- should I die in my sleep my soul He will keep for the next need of others called back from that merry band of brothers/sisters in heaven to hell here on earth. . . . Unto whom much is given much is required and much given more.
120803 19:39 remarkable
©2012 by Jack Spratt All Rights Reserved
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