Sometimes when I think of those times (last post) , I feel like Bill Murrays character, Cross, in "Scrooged" when the ghost of christmas past was showing Cross his childhood and Cross had all those great memories that the ghost would tell him which television show they were from. I'm not so bad that I think that they actually happened to me, but some are more vivid to me than my real ones. Now I'm not ready to say that it's my lack, because it could be the power of syndication, but I think that it is actually kind of pitiful.
I loved my sister, as much as I've ever loved anybody, so please don't think that I'm placing any blame. God knows that I've lived my life and chosen to stay in questionable situations to see redemption, but I wasn't much of a kid. Adults tend to get a little myopic when they have a crisis on their hands. My mom proved that the time I hit a tractor-trailer with my bike on my way to school one morning. She calmly put her (she's gonna kill me) pants on backwards (I remember because the neighbor told her) took me to the wrong hospital (she assured the officer that a ride in his car with lights and siren was unnecessary) and left my bike at the scene (JC Pennys, green with a banana seat, but no sissy bar- I always wanteed a sissy bar... not anymore though).
This was the way that she responded to crisis, but when crisis gives way to mundane- My parents did very well raising both me and my sister. Gods' grace was evident in both of our lives, but God gave us to the right parents. I'm still a little inexperienced at being sick I'm not so sure whether to go to the doc or ride it out, but I know that I have been blessed in ways that I can't fathom yet. Ways that I don't see, but that's part of the mystery of being the Bride... How has the Groom wooed me before my suspicion was aroused. I'm gonna get that one. There are things that I don't mind not understanding, but that one... oh, look, a green M-N-M...Hmmmmmmm