I will always be convinced that people were somehow created and we are not here accidentally as a long evolutionary process.
Last night at an outdoor restaurant there was a tiny little girl and her mother at a table near ours. If something happened to the mother that child would perish immediately, within a day or two, if somebody else didn’t mother it. And in seventy years that mother will be as helpless as her little girl, without help.
And although they weren’t present, if a lot of men hadn’t toiled to set up that peaceful scene of an outdoor restaurant it wouldn’t be there. If men hadn’t arranged America’s defenses that no other nation could even think of invading Fulton Missouri that mother and child wouldn’t be speaking English very long.
Caring for the children and the elderly is difficult today in Ukraine.
My father died young, but I lived to have to see my mother grow old and then one day when she was 80 she called and said she was diagnosed with congestive heart failure, and had only a few years to live.
I drove to Humansville and she opened the door in full makeup with high heels.
She said open your car door for your dying mother and let’s go to the A Frame Cafe to discuss my impending demise.
I said Mama I don’t want to talk about you dying in front of all our friends!
She replied she didn’t either, as it was a rather depressing prospect, so off we went to the A Frame Cafe.
She stayed in her home until she had a heart attack in July 2019, and from there she went to a local nursing home, where she died in October 2010, peacefully, in my arms, as I came at noon to eat with her.
I can talk about it now without tears.
The night before she died, she helped me sing this old song.
Then she requested this one, which is the last song we ever sang together this side of heaven.
I asked her why she only warned me against drinking and not against taking drugs, and she said she knew I wouldn’t do drugs but I was always partial to those beer joint songs she taught me.
Last night at an outdoor restaurant there was a tiny little girl and her mother at a table near ours. If something happened to the mother that child would perish immediately, within a day or two, if somebody else didn’t mother it. And in seventy years that mother will be as helpless as her little girl, without help.
And although they weren’t present, if a lot of men hadn’t toiled to set up that peaceful scene of an outdoor restaurant it wouldn’t be there. If men hadn’t arranged America’s defenses that no other nation could even think of invading Fulton Missouri that mother and child wouldn’t be speaking English very long.
Caring for the children and the elderly is difficult today in Ukraine.
My father died young, but I lived to have to see my mother grow old and then one day when she was 80 she called and said she was diagnosed with congestive heart failure, and had only a few years to live.
I drove to Humansville and she opened the door in full makeup with high heels.
She said open your car door for your dying mother and let’s go to the A Frame Cafe to discuss my impending demise.
I said Mama I don’t want to talk about you dying in front of all our friends!
She replied she didn’t either, as it was a rather depressing prospect, so off we went to the A Frame Cafe.
She stayed in her home until she had a heart attack in July 2019, and from there she went to a local nursing home, where she died in October 2010, peacefully, in my arms, as I came at noon to eat with her.
I can talk about it now without tears.
The night before she died, she helped me sing this old song.
Then she requested this one, which is the last song we ever sang together this side of heaven.
I asked her why she only warned me against drinking and not against taking drugs, and she said she knew I wouldn’t do drugs but I was always partial to those beer joint songs she taught me.
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