Sometimes it’s best to not allow my friends, and especially my relatives, to influence me. To steer clear of their advice and promptings and requests. It’s not always the easy thing to do. Because I like to be a nice guy. I like to do favors.  Because I’ve been brought up. On the premise that blood and true friendship happen to be thicker than water.  But I’m not so sure about that anymore. I have an inner soul. A sense of right and wrong. That dictates to me. That strangers deserve equal treatment. Indeed, that might offend a friend or relative. I tell my Christian friends though. That’s what I sense Jesus would do.  That poses a potential dilemma. --Jim

So is the potential dilemma pomposity?

Maybe narcissism.

Keep schoolin' them Christians... as to what Jesus would do.

goad...provoke or annoy (someone) 

why here when people are looking for 

encouragement...give support, confidence, or hope to (someone).

your motive is?

 My best teachers. Goaded me. Into thinking with an open mind. Maybe that’s how I learned. To goad myself, and others. I learned to question. What I had already been taught. By my parents. By my friends and acquaintances. By preachers. By the news media. More and more. I learned to think for myself. Not to automatically accept the gospel truth. Goading became a positive and productive pastime. Yes. Yes. I am appreciative. Of the goaders. They got me thinking. And feeling more alive. --Jim

I love to expand the dictionary definitions of words. To make the words more meaningful. Many, many words have taken on new meanings over the course of time and history. That’s the way it should be. I even dare change my style of writing.  To something other than what was taught me. I like to break the rules. My favorite writers. My favorite artists. My favorite philosophers. Even my Italian amore. They all break the rules. And I love them for it. --Jim

Your judgement is that I have rigid rules? 6 children, 13 grandchildren, 4 great grandchildren, caretaker for parents, in the publishing business, traveling the world, a writer, a designer and as many years taking care of my husband (at home) as you took care of your wife. 

All in all I am satisfied with what I have accomplished and was never a handmaiden to rigidity. No, not rigid but having a hard time with grief. Thought you , or anyone else, might muse with me about it.. 

I wonder, jfkoc, why you have a problem with grief. Especially when you have so much going on in your life. You can write, you can design, you can travel and savor so much.  So many opportunities to get on with life. And think of it. So many children, grandchildren and great grandchildren. Though they also can be a burden. But for you, I doubt it. Tell me more about your grief and the toll it’s taking. I’ve never had prolonged grief. I’ve grieved. But then I got on with life. In relatively short order. Because I have to be in love. With something or someone. Aren’t you in love? At this very moment. With some aspect of your life. You have so much to love. Even your true love’s spirit. In that sense, you haven’t lost him. I never lost my dear Jeanne. She still lives. Inside me. And she encouraged me to get on with life. In so many loving ways. Jeanne is happy for me.  True love never dies. Jeanne’s spirit tells me it’s silly to keep grieving. --Jim

Jim, you can do better than that. Grief is not one of the words that is fluidic. It is just pain, and sorrow. It's tears, and sometimes the lack of tears when we wish they would come. It's wishing for another minute with someone. It's knowing that one can no longer ask a question , or at least, understanding that the answer may not be forthcoming. It's a hole in the heart that stubbornly refuses to be filled. It's the too quiet room.

Are these dictionary definitions ? No. These are the definitions I feel in the empty bedroom that was my mom's. They're the old memories of my dad, brought back to the surface by the passing of my mom.

I really don't have any answer for grief, except for my faith, and the knowledge that a lifetime of good memories will eventually cover up the scars.

Maybe grief is that wall in the heart that constantly begs to be pushed, hit, kicked, and chiseled into, until it has mostly worn away. Grief is just the temporary bracing put in place to keep the house from falling until permanent repairs can be made. Sure, it's ugly. Ugly with a purpose. Ugly until it's disassembled, to be stored away and saved for the next time.

But it sure ain't fluid.

Blessings,

Chris

Grief is grief is grief, Chris. It affects different people in different ways. Both positive and negative. Everyone has to deal with it. In their own way. I can tell others  how I do it. In my own positive way.  It works for me. But it may not work for anyone else. It’s a very personal thing. I try not to tell people how to live. Though I don’t hesitate telling them how I live. Because I like to share. Others can do as they please. Too many people misconstrue my comments. As telling them what to do. It just ain’t so. They are on their own. Just like me. I do as I please. --Jim

I still ask questions, Chris. Of my mom and dad. And my dear sweet Jeanne. They’ve all passed away. But they still live.  Inside me. I ask them some of the same questions that I ask my creator. And very personal stuff, too. That I didn’t ask ever before. And I get answers. Beautiful answers. Full of joy. And keen insights. I pose questions, too, to the spirits of people I’ve never known. It’s wonderful. I don’t have to mourn or grieve. Not when I have direct communication. With everyone that I ever loved. Maybe that’s why I don’t spend a whole lot of time grieving. Because I’m busy and blessed. Communing with their spirits. Try it Chris. You can do it. You have what it takes. You are a believer in the Holy Spirit, aren't you? --Jim

Keep posting, jfkoc, and tell me when you need consoling. To get you through your grief. No doubt, you’ll make it. Obviously, you love life. So many options. So many ways to stay in love. And you are so fortunate. To have had a true love. A good marriage. And children. And a diverse career.  And many talents. And reasonably good health, or so I assume. You’ve survived spring chickenhood.  Yes, another blessing. --Jim