Stimulus N FlashBacks
30 Years Searching for Balance
by
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We offered lame condolences to those standing close and passed through the group as we continued our hike to the secluded waterfall. With frequent heavy sighs and words we discussed what we had just experienced and came to the conclusion that the man died doing what he like to do and there was no evidence of short or prolonged suffering. He appeared in good health by all accounts and there was no knowledge of any serious condition. Obviously the suddenness of the event was a shock to the spouse and her life was forever changed. We would not want this situation to happen to us or anybody else and we would mourn the loss.
We all would be so lucky to live a full life then die suddenly while we were still active doing something we love to do. A bit premature, we might comment, but better than languishing in a nursing home alone and isolated from familiar surroundings, family or friends.
My courage to say no to further CPR paled in contrast to the courage it takes for an aged surviving spouse to continue on alone without a soul mate. It’s hard enough to find that special person, but harder still to lose them to a sudden death.
My hat goes off to the survivors!
Ice Cream N First Contact
“Melting ice cube between our hands . . .”
Stimulus
Whenever I think about ice cream churned by hand the old fashioned way, I remember numerous family and community picnics when homemade ice cream was such a novelty. It always seemed colder than store bought and one would get a headache from eating it too fast. Ice cream made by the chilling effects of rock salt poured and mixed with ice chunks seemed to have more texture and it melted down to cream instead of staying in a soft heap like store bought with seaweed texture conditioners.
The stories about gigantic cylinders turned by small engines to make ice cream for large family reunions conjured up images of cement mixers being used for that purpose. Obviously my mind searched for pictures stored in my brain to attach to the word image the old timers portrayed and my imagination had gone wild. I like ice cream of all flavors and the memories associated with getting cones, floats, sundaes, sandwiches and other frozen delights at the local soda fountain and Dairy Queen in Worthington, Ohio spurred me on to make my own ice cream flavors while stationed in Vietnam.
Flashback – Child or Manhood
The 24th Evac. Mess hall had vanilla ice cream in small half cup cardboard containers with a paper lid pulled off by a small tab. I got bored with just vanilla
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About the Book
Troubled by FlashBacks to a
“Thirty years searching for balance,” the subtitle conveys the central theme of this literary quest. Core human issues explored against the backdrop of
Families around the globe feel a great sense of loss when members of their cherished group are maimed, killed or psychologically damaged by conflicts at home or abroad.
Friend or foe, humans of every race, color, gender, age or lifestyle persuasion are precious cogs in the gears that make the machinery of existence turn daily life into something meaningful and joyful.
Laughter and beauty are the universal languages transcending the tangled semantics of cross-cultural interchange, inspiring and lifting us above the quagmire of envy and hate.
Wartime squeezes the joy out of Mother’s Day, birth of babies, Christmas and the first wisp of spring when separation and the threat of everlasting loss paralyses us with a sense of impending doom.
There are no spectators in the race of life encircling the globe. Each of us plays a part big or small by choice or passive complacency in deciding what the concept of freedom blended with responsibility to God and country really means down deep in our hearts.
A quiet moment is given in reflection to the memory of loved ones lost to aging, accidents, homicide, suicide and conflicts home and abroad. All of these precious creations were born, diapered, cleaned, fed and loved as children and adults by someone somewhere. They weren’t good or evil, crazy or sane they were just family. Part and parcel of the larger human race.
About the Author
Larry E. Park born in
An artist afraid of starving became a nurse and now is living the dream embodied by the typewriter in a
It’s not over! It’s done, but not over. The envy and conflict originated across the galaxy seems scripted by
Freedom of thought and purpose are innate pre-requisites to unleash the unbridled creative positive energies of the fragile human spirit. Coupled with that quest for freedom comes the
responsibility to ourselves and our neighbors to be helpful and nice.
The international war on terror reaches far beyond our backyard fences and borders into the unknown reaches of the far distant cosmos. Planetary conflicts personal or global can only be resolved when individual hearts are tuned to the beautiful music of caring about others in the manner we would want to be cared for.
We often feel alone and helpless in the quicksand of consuming injustices witnessed around the globe and are paralyzed by the benumbing reports of bizarre human behavior that hurts others.
Rational understanding of this human quagmire can only be found by pulling back and examining the issues from inside the mind of a Creator God. Freedom of thought and action versus fear and oppression of all creative energies is the foundation of the original war of the universe, He is the only One able to end the conflict, transform us into young everlasting creatures and restore earth to its original pristine garden paradise of
Casting your vote and being loyal to the only political party of the Universe which is destined to win the race will guarantee a make over house in paradise with a baby giraffe or lion in the front yard cuddling a lamb for all the voters. Forget the chicken and throw out the old pot. A new heart pumps life!