Ptcker-Upper

I'm driving the long commute home through Toronto followed by fields of country miles listening to a tranquil Sinatra blues  ballad at one point.
Not at work, not at home it's personal defragging time to follow the thoughts where they may take me.

In my early sixties now, it's not the first occasion to reflect, if not on the essence of life, then on my personal contribution with little to measure.

In my earlier days like many another foolish youth I suspect, I had a strong premonition like belief that i was put especially on this earth to make some great contribution, but that it had to be later in life at a time when time passed much quicker because right now there was too much going on even for the days and summers that went on forever.

The sixties and seventies seemed to be a time not just for actual teenage youth to rebel but for youthful society itself to rebel and it came across clumsily, disingenuously and seedy. Youth were being used and youth were not going along without something in it for them.

Myself, I never read the Toronto Star or watched the CBC so I guess I was ignorant of all the causes, outrages, and injustices of the day that have never paused for a deep breath to this day.

Education is worse off than it ever was, free healthcare is no more, pensions are woefully inadequate, and unions only still thrive and blackmail in government venues.  The current establishment refuses to acknowledge any wrongdoing or that there is the slightest problem that even the establishment must now get just how wrong they were.

The first half of my life was an uneasy time with intermittent times of suffering and tragedy accentuated with anxiety and depression even a decades extended time of ridicule and being  bullied far beyond the minimum standard of today.

 If there were no God planted beauty to stumble across in life's myriad of paths  or if society was obsessed with death as it is now...I don't know...

But now, and looking back instead of anger quite the opposite holds true that although, yes  I would have changed some specific occurrences I would not have changed the general experience and feelings of suffering.  I believe this to be the reality of how poor families also had their happiest times in the roughest of seas.

The heart needs love the soul also needs enrichment.

Speaking of the soul, it took a long time to truly warm up to the Catholic Church though I wouldn't say it was time wasted.

For instance, for the longest time I could not understand why the multitude of priests I've heard over the years never took to criticizing {much} the political landscape, current affairs, the awful state of government controlled Catholic education from the altar.

To me the piece to that puzzle was actually found in their very vulnerability.
Of the many I came to know personally including a few I worked for there were a few priests who could be considered miserable, or screwed up socially... to say the least

Yet, the ones who seemed the worst to know personally.could actually give the most insightful passionate Truth striking homilies I've ever heard... and naturally and comfortably delivered,,,, so obviously Christ inspired.

On just such occasions when one is presented with such flawless Truth through God's consecrated messenger one can only presume the word and life of Christ to have all come from the Truth and if Christ saw through to saving souls personally and one at a time rather than lead the societal brutal and physical revolution that was expected of Him then what else can we expect of good priests today, except to stay on message.

For myself at times I find it disconcerting that society has deteriorated so much that the 'wrong' opinions are readily accepted as hate speech and that logic and extrapolation count for nothing in a narcissistic world of angry anarchy.

I am glad that in all my personal concerns and family dutes I still manage to not have had time to read how the news, entertainment, and sports media view their reports if not the facts.

I finally make it home actually a little sick and battered from a workplace accident and put back with some kind of burning throat infection and  I make my way to flop out on the couch.
Political family incorrect, but the kids and my wife haven't seen me for a week and rush to hug, kiss me and run for small errands ensuring my comfort.

It is only now and for the first time that I can find estatic closure to my belief that I was put on this earth for a special purpose.
In fact, it was never so at all. It was something much more conducive to happiness.

It is my loving wife, my daughters and my sons who were especially put on this earth for me, certainly not that I deserved them, but that Christ's love is still free.