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The Doubting Thomas

In recent years, I have deeply soured on the idea of God and heaven.      I wasn’t always the most devout follower to begin with, having been forced to attend Summer Bible School when I should have been enjoying a summer away from regular school.  At least that’s how I figured it.  What am I doing in a church basement making popsicle-stick coasters while listening to Bible verses, when I could be listening to my Beatles albums or swimming in the lake.      After all, He took my father from me, and left me stranded in this space, so what did I owe Him?      It wasn’t some self-inflicted death, either. It was heart disease that took my dad at the age of 47, so the manufacturer produced a flawed product.  And He didn’t make doctors smart enough to fix it. I was made to look after myself in my formative years, with no siblings or male influence to build on.  It wasn’t the worst thing that ever happened to a kid, but it cer...

Contemplating my Mortality

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I would like to own a gun, but I would have to keep the bullets somewhere else.  I wouldn’t want the temptation of finishing my life at the whim of a bad set of circumstances. I don’t trust myself with myself. It does concern me, though - death. Mostly how and when, now that the “with someone or alone” debate has been decided. Wondering if it’s going to be a lingering disease, or something more quick and to the point?  If I linger like my mother did, I’ll be a burden to myself and others, and the final five or six years won’t be “living” in its truest sense. Perhaps what bothers me the most about it all is that my current active lifestyle will come to a crashing halt at some point sooner than later.  I’m 68 now, and pushing myself to the point where I ask myself “why are you doing this to yourself?”  To go from that to nothing will be a mental strain that I don’t know if I could handle. Which is another reason why I should not own a gun. As an only c...