© Jeanne E Webster – All Rights Reserved.
Life is jam-packed with many marvels, some shrouded in golden delights while others drip tears from tortured souls. It is an arduous and exhilarating labor, both long and short, hopeful and hopeless, fulfilling and fleeting, promising and forsaking.
Life begins with a scream and ends with a moan, loves one day and hates the next, promises the world with one hand and waves goodbye with the other. Somewhere in between these dynamics, babies are born and people die, lovers marry and the disillusioned divorce, families build up and discord knocks down, adults fight and children cringe from painful hurts. Such is life.
Wholesome, mature life begins with shy smiles, cuddling looks, love oozing from curved-lip seams of passion, pure innocence in all its meant-to-be fashion. Babies snuggle at the breast, prideful glances are exchanged, cooing and oh-so-gentle touches of love burst forth with brief bliss and fulfillment.
Home was security until a thing called the Viet Nam war bombed the soul out of young hearts just beginning their walk down the aisle of life. The eruption of this foolhardy war blasted upon the idyllic scene and in a few short years, family units deteriorated into shambles, love turned to hate, children trembled in frightening anguish; parents divorced, bitterly forging a sword of despair and unforgiveness into once solid family trees—forever.
Like animated ghosts of the past, fathers and mothers trod wearily along what’s left of life, separated by wounds too deep to heal and too long ago to remember. Children are resilient but deeply hurt nonetheless. They reach adulthood and marry, clinging dearly to high hopes, bearing young and slowly beginning their climb into family trees.
But all too soon they realize that, “Life begins with a scream and ends with a moan, loves one day and hates the next, promises the world with one hand and waves goodbye with the other.”
(A story told by an angel on the wing, carrying heavenward life’s shattered entities.)