I sent an e-mail to a friend of mine to tell her I was thinking of her and her lake. She lives near Lake Tahoe, which has seen an awful fire recently. She wrote back, "thanks, every little bit helps." I think there was an emoticon in there, too.
It occurred to me, though, that my thoughts should be worth more than a "little bit." I know a lot of people who should be working miracles or at least lobbying the miracle workers. I'm talking about you, St. Matthew. (Yes, I am challenging out my patron saint. If I wake up tomorrow and can walk and run, I'll apologize and build him a reallY kickin' shrine.) But still I am in a chair and getting worse.
I figured if I would ever get a deus ex machina in my life, gram would have gotten it done.
Gram died in October; She had known me my whole life, and if anyone could get God off his duff and working magic, she could.
God might complain that miracles weren't really his thing anymore, but I know gram would have none of it.
She didn't hold to rules. This was woman who "test drove" a red convertible to the beach with her friends when she was young. I put "test drove" in quotation marks because while she said "test drove," others might say "stole." She returned the convertible at the end of the day after the dealer was closed and just left it in the lot with its keys.
I was sure she would wander up to God's house, remind him that she was a loyal customer for 95 years and demand that he fix me and my brother.
I realize I am anthropomorphizing God a bit. God doesn't have a duff, a house, even a he. The magic, though, that's all God. God's like Dumbledore.
I won't lie and say I am not a little disappointed that gram has not hooked me up yet. Or Saint Matthew. I guess maybe gram is taking some time to learn the way of things, maybe she is building up a stash of chits. Maybe one day I'll see her behind the reins of a fiery chariot, and some guy with her will say to me in a mumble, "you're healed." She'll laugh and say: "That's right, Elijah, don't play Russian bank with me."
Wednesday, July 4, 2007
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2 comments:
I like the idea of Gram in a flaming chariot. I'm going to hope her eyesight has improved before she takes the reins though. I also think she's kind of busy catching up with folks and all still. I think she's chatting in French/English with Uncle Frank and her other siblings and telling Grandaddy and Gram and Grandaddy Trott all about what's been gong on down here. At least, that's what I think
mtc
Yeah, I am counting on her eyesight and reaction time being better. I also think she might have to regain some of her lost inches to drive a chariot.
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