The Lie of Cats in the Cradle

"Cat's in the Cradle" by Harry Chapin from the album Verities & Balderdash

“My child arrived just the other day

He came to the world in the usual way

But there were planes to catch and bills to pay

He learned to walk while I was away

And he was talkin' 'fore I knew it, and as he grew

He'd say "I'm gonna be like you, Dad

You know I'm gonna be like you…”

* * *

This song, released at the end of 1974, has touched the hearts of millions. I first heard Cats in the Cradle at the tender age of fourteen. Being a young girl, I wondered about the Mom. She would be the ‘usual way’ referenced so dismissively in the second line. That the mother is there during the father’s disconnection is implied, right? I mean, the boy didn’t learn to walk and talk from apes.

Later in life I married, had two sons, divorced, and then married again. You know, “the usual way” in today’s terms. Rather than whine about the now-divorced relationship, I’ll sum it up with a quick (quasi-funny) story from before the divorce.

To continue reading, please go to the WordPress site, JL Mo

New Study Reveals Most Children Unrepentant Sociopaths

Okay, you got me.

I read this entire article, got myself all worked up, wrote a three paragraph retort in the Facebook comments, then realized it was from The Onion. Ugh! How embarrassing!

In my defense, it was six in the morning, I hadn't slept well, and I needed something to read. Next time I'll turn to the BBC, not Facebook. And yes, I deleted it within sixty seconds of posting my ridiculous comment.

To be fair, it is an amusing article. Here's the link, and here's hoping you laugh.

New Study Reveals Most Children Unrepentant Sociopaths

One of the comments in the fb feed that I'd gotten this from said, "Onion or not... Is it reeeeeeally that far off base??"

Yeah, the person that posted that comment has kids.

Grandkid’s in Paradise

I’m finally a Nana! Woo-Hoo! But, there’s always a drawback, isn’t there? I live in Florida, and the kids are currently stationed in Hawaii with the military. I just returned from my visit and won’t see them again for another year. So, this one’s for them.

(To the tune of "Welcome to Paradise" by Green Day. Follow the original lyrics here)

Grandkid’s in Paradise

Lyrics by JL Mo

Grown children

can you hear me whining?

Hawaii’s far away

and I cannot go back

this sudden ache has left me trembling

cuz my first grandkid’s too far away to reach

on some Hawaiian beach

I have waited for too long

to reach this point in life

some call it old

I call it grand

but life takes some strange turns

and now it hurts to think about

Grandkid’s in Paradise

I love my home state here in Florida

I would not live another place on God’s green earth

but now you’re stationed in Hawaii

and to my first grandkid

you now have given birth

So tell me what that’s worth

I have waited for too long

to reach this point in life

some call it old

I call it grand

but life takes some strange turns

and now it hurts to think about

Grandkid’s in Paradise

Dear children

can you hear me laughing?

It’s been three whole years since

the two of you left home

But now your two became a threesome

Your child now in tow,

Promise you’ll never go

Promise you’ll never go

I have waited for too long

to reach this point in life

some call it old

I call it grand

but life takes some strange turns

and now it hurts to think about

Grandkid’s in Paradise

Take it down a notch

Maybe it’s time for me to grow up and put away my childish things (1 Cor. 13:11). I’m almost fifty-two, for crying out loud!

Birthdays, Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas; all of these (and more) bring out the child in me. I even decorate my house for our sons birthday's, even though they're grown and gone. It’s a tradition that I get a kick out of.

As an adult, we are supposed to put aside our childish desire for dressing silly (Halloween), blowing out candles (Birthdays), eating (Thanksgiving), and opening presents (Christmas, of course). I haven’t. Maybe I just haven’t tried hard enough to be a grown up.

 I am a "little" high strung (Ha). It really comes out around the holidays. I've been told to "Take it down a notch" or "Simmer down, little teapot" or "Is it time to adjust your meds or mine?" Yeah, I get it. I do seem to be forcing it on others. If they don’t want to celebrate the day, I get bummed. Birthdays especially. I love birthdays, and I don’t understand why everyone doesn’t. Really. What’s the alternative to having a birthday? Having a funeral! So, why not celebrate the fact you’ve made it another year? But, not everyone thinks or feels the same as I do.

Politics, religion, money, these are differences of opinions I understand, but a difference on opinion for celebrating?

I’m at a loss.

Maybe I should try growing up.

A Child

“I'm scared,” his voice whispered.
“There's no need to be.”

“Will I know when?” he choked.
“We'll just wait and see.”

“It seems very dark here.”
“I know, take my hand.”

“Will you stay here with me?”
“Son, right to the end.”

Monitors sounds turned off,
the room was silent.

Our son, through sickness,
had been compliant.

Through all of the testing,
we’d fought for two years.

Now, his mom stood by him,
just fighting her tears.

Her voice having fled her,
not backing away,

from our son’s final breath,
but nothing to say.

His little hand convulsed,
as he gasped for air.

A tear rolled from his eye
and into his hair.

“It seems to be darker.”
“I'm sorry, my dear.”

“The pain doesn't hurt now.”
“That’s so good to hear!”

“I see a little light,
I think I should go.

But I'm so scared daddy,
I want you to know.

I love you and Mom both,
with all of my heart.”

“We love you too, baby.
We can’t change that part.”

His little hand went limp,
with a final sigh.

His labored breathing stopped.
I said my goodbye.

She fell upon his bed,
crying in her grief.

She held his still body.
But found no relief.

My wife cried out her pain,
“Our son is dead!”

I sat down, held them both
Words could not be said

His life was why we lived.
His joy knew no end.

His laughter known by all,
he sang songs with friends.

I pulled her off his bed.
She fought to hold on.

“Please, darling, let him go.
His last breath has drawn.”

“We’re supposed to go first!”
She screamed through her tears.

“He should have lived longer!
He had only eight years!”

One more child taken,
one more child gone.

His life did enrich us.
We’ll still hear his song.