My father was a writer. He wrote all of his life, inflicting upon many of us his novels, plays, articles, essays, and self-help books. Some were marvelous; some merely well-intentioned. But of all the things he wrote, his journal is his legacy: by turns wise and bewildering, it neared 1,100 type-written pages when he died in 2010. Although perused many times, this is the first time it will be read - cover to cover, page after page.
Tuesday, May 6, 2014
The Big Disappointment
They do not exactly say so but there is always the suggestion that if people would just have enough faith they would live forever, if they would only mobilize the resources within themselves no disease would have a chance. I heard -- or thought I heard -- an ad in which Bernie Siegel seemed to be saying it again. It must be one hell of a surprise when they get sick and if sick can slip past that mobilized faith dying must surely be a let down.
Labels:
acceptance,
cancer,
dying,
faith,
foolishness,
illness,
miracle
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