Sunday, November 30, 2025

THE INEVITALBE END

My father did what he could to keep the family out of poverty. He went to college to study accounting. His father, Otto Brandt, believed that people should look good and he made sure his children looked good, although Otto Brandt watched gauges at the Dow Chemical plant for his living.

Otto Brandt, his wife and kids are all gone now. His household full of children lies in the past, like some old novel you read years ago and now it sits on a bookshelf. The children all grew up, had children, and grew old and died, just as people are living out their lives today until the inevitable end. The inevitable end to all our stories is always mostly forgotten by those that live in the future. No matter what they know about us, they can never know the fullness of our lives, nor can they appreciate the times in which we live.

The media says that the inevitable end can be overcome, or at least put off until the distant future. In reality, the inevitable end will overcome us all. The great oblivion is waiting. Perhaps oblivion is better than having to work like a dog to give money to wealthy scoundrels, who play their lives away with no worry. Maybe oblivion is a release from the reality that working our lives away as slaves to those born lucky, is the saddest cut of all.

There is one good thing that comes from living. By living we can at least help others, even though our own lives are burdened by the lack of riches, more commonly known as freedoms. Only in the eyes of the people we help along the way can we gain the strength to sustain ourselves, until our own inevitable end comes upon us. For in the end, what we did for others is what will count in the great long run of history. Even if we are forgotten, the fact we helped some poor devil to continue to struggle for life, who in turn, helps others, is perhaps the greatest achievement any one of us can hope for. Very few of us are born lucky, but we can all be important.

08052010

Saturday, November 29, 2025

THE STORY OF ME BEGINS WITH A DEATH

My Aunt Marj recently died with cancer. It was a bit of a shock that she was so old. I remember going fishing with her when I was a small boy. I did not go to see her much when I got slightly older, because she could not go fishing with me anymore.

Decades ago my grandparents were told that my aunt had an IQ of 70. The state laid out all the options for my aunt including, sending her away, and locking her up in the attic. My grandparents chose to keep her on as an adult, who would never quite grow up. So generations of little kids got use to going to my grandparents cottage, and fishing with aunt Marj.

Her death is like a great stone being placed over my youth. I have many more relatives lying beneath the soil than walk above it now. I will always dream of the days when my aunts and uncles and parents were all alive. I will dream of the days of having fun at the lakes. I will dream of the days of the good and the plenty.


01222011