Life Is Not a Box of Chocolates. It’s Crummy

Believe it or not, I had red hair.
Believe it or not, I had red hair.
I know the Forest Gump quote says, “Life is like a box of chocolates,” but lately it seems more crummy. Some days, the crumbs are like the left over crumbs from a great coffee cake. I don’t want to waste the sensation of tasting even one morsel. So I push them all together in an effort to get just one more taste. Other days are more like the annoying crumbs of play-do left after our kids use it, fold it, cut it, shape it, and ultimately leave lit bits to either dry up into sharp bits that stab up through my socks or worse mush into the fabric of the socks. Yuck.

Sadly, this last week has been decidedly more of play-do crummy. I’ve had more pain more often of late. With more pain comes more mistakes and difficulty thinking. For a while, the pain has been in my hands, but of late just getting up from a seated or laying down position comes at a risk of sharp back pain like being stabbed with a spear straight through to the gut. I still have no idea what prompted that pain or caused it, but thankfully it is less common this week. Now I am back to primarily joint pain in my wrists and hands to pair with head aches. I can deal with these.

After all, I’m a red head, or I was before my hair lost its color. I did find it interesting to read how red heads feel pain differently than everyone else. Maybe if I did not have MS, I would be more reactive to pain from cold, but other than that this article echoes my experience. red head pain

As I got over the sharp stabby crumbs, I managed to stumble into the gross mushy crumbs. While everyone else in the family got sick last week with a nasty stomach virus that lasts for 2-3 days, I managed to avoid it. I attributed my luck to my MS. My immune system attacking everything with a tactical nuke has its advantages, and I am rarely out of work. I just didn’t realize my immune system was yet to be tested. As everyone else got better on Monday, it struck me Tuesday morning. It was the first time I have ever needed a puke bucket while sitting on the toilet. Yuck! Those crumbs were gross and they were on far more than just my socks (have I mentioned I love my wife lately?)! The good news is my body’s tactical nukes got me past the yucks in less than 10 hours. The next day I was at work…8 lbs lighter.

Having experienced both types of negative play do crumbs, I have to say bring on the coffee cake. These things do come in three’s right?

Scratch that.

I’ve had enough crumbs.

I want to scream for some good old ice cream!

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What Do We Mean When We Say “Marriage?”

Art by Mirko Ilić Corp.
Art by Mirko Ilić Corp.

Can we finally lay to rest the myth of this being the “end of traditional marriage in the United States?” My marriage hasn’t ended or even changed with the ruling. However, none of my friends have “traditional” marriages, at least as far as I know. I keep seeing references to “traditional marriages” existing for hundreds or even thousands of years between men and women. I suppose they have, but the traditional marriages going back that far are ones I can do without. I married for love. I married to have an equal partner, and I married the person I chose to marry.

If this week’s Supreme Court ruling says to some that traditional marriage in the U.S. is a dead institution, I have to ask where they have been hiding the last hundred plus years. The traditional marriages referenced by many in this case lost popularity long before gay marriages became an issue.

Growing up, I had a couple of years of religion classes at an Episcopal school before 6 years of religion classes at a Catholic school. On Catholic gay marriage, the question I have asked many but not received an answer that seems logical to me is “If the priest’s role in the sacrament of marriage is to witness, not give, the sacrament, then why does anyone assume the sacrament is withheld from the gay couple marrying?” If I close my eyes and plug my ears, does that mean my kids and wife no longer say they love me?

I always come back to wondering what a gift from God would look or feel like.

Would it feel like complete acceptance?

Would it comfort me at times it seems the world has forsaken me?

Would it give me the strength to attempt the difficult and even succeed occasionally?

Would it be a balm against the loneliness of this existence?

You know what? If I could receive such a gift, I suspect I would pity the religious people their inability to recognize God’s gifts despite their enviable faith.

Come to think of it, I have received the sacrament of marriage as I conceive of it, even if it was witnessed by no clergy outside of my sister-in-law who became an ordained minister over the internet just to marry us. What’s more, the benefits I listed above are what many gay people claim, above and beyond all the legal rights of marriage. Who am I to deny they have been blessed? Maybe there is more to be experienced in a marriage witnessed and officially approved of by a church, but for now, I will remain content with the gifts I am lucky enough to experience.

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