It's funny. I started this blog a long time ago and it had just one little person I wanted to read it so she could know a little bit about her dad. As far as I know, she's never so much as glanced at it but then, little girl, far away, never told her about it so you know, it could get overlooked pretty darned easily. My greater half told me that this was perahps an inapprpriate piece of music and that wossname wouldn't capture the subteties in the underlying words. I don't think she is wrong. She seldom it. The song though is a tremendous song about loss and so I think it works. And there is the key to the thing about blogs. If you don't like it or disagree, you can go start your own. Yes, it's overblown to describe a little loss but the words speak to me. Wow, you should see some of the stuff I put into it 12 years ago when it began. Went to a memorial today for an old friend. Spent some quality time listening to people reminisce about tiger who strolled around in the daylight carefully nurtering the young. Which of course caused me to remember her husband, a Navy man, a gunner. As JFK said, we had so little in common to become such friends but we could both tell sea stories until the cows wandered home. So we did. don't know much about faith. I mean the nuns tried but let's be honest, that stuff doesn't really stick to little boys unlike every other damned thing on the planet. To be remembered by friends is to live forever. There was a lot of that going on today. I don't think there was a single soul there at the memorial service or the house of her generation. Born I think in 1927 she simply outlasted all of her friends from the same era. I had the chance to go to a service for the oldest friend of my dad. They were literally born on the same day in Fort Bragg before the War. As it happened, I didn't go to the service or interment at Arlington. I was asked to stay at the house and keep at bay the buzzards who used to inflict themselves in Artlington and NORVA and rob the houses of the bereaved when they read funeral announcements in the paper. I was up to it but coudn't help thinking a gun would have been nice. I spent a quiet day without getting to shoot, or not, anybody. Now, I thnk I'll listen to it again.
It's a piece of music. It captured me. There's a squirrel at my window desperate to bring in, spelling errors and all. It kind of sums up the music. One actually has to be there to here the message in the music. I'm accepting that I'm here way to much. I know it was written by Martin Luther but is not the song I remember. I'm blessed to share life with a Mighty Fortress. Truly blessed.