On the phone with Dad this frosty morning. We were talking about getting the plumber to go up to his little house on the mountain and drain the pipes, shut things down, tuck the place in for the winter.
"Okay, so we covered that!" he says, immediately laughing.
"So, how are you, Dad?"
"I can't hear you. It sounds like you're in the middle of a field. I can't hear you!"
I moved around the kitchen trying to find a spot.
"Can you hear me now?"
"Yes, yes. There you are."
"Now you're fading again. Fading away."
"Can you hear me now, Dad?"
"Yes. Good. So, I was telling my table mates at breakfast a couple of thoughts I've been having. The first is, still crazy after all these years."
"I can relate to that."
"And the second, and this one made my friend, Ed, wince. Love death."
"Oh. There's a thought for a Friday."
"Love death! Not that I want to go tomorrow, mind you, but love death! It's the great releaser."
More laughter through the phone.
"And one more thing," Dad said, "This one's from Tony DeMello, the Jesuit priest who lived in India. Very wonderful man, very funny man. He said, The new religion is freedom."
This Being Alive
is taking the three-day weekend to
work in the yard
go to the river with Chewy
play Clue (I'm Mrs. Peacock)
practice my new religion: freedom.
peace be with you.