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Today marks the 36th year of the Supreme Courts infamous decision to legalize abortion.
Today I attended a funeral.
Why do I comment on both of these events? They mark dates in history that won’t soon be forgotten. One, the anniversary of legalized mutilation of baby and mom sanctioned as a choice. The other, a day of great sadness and joy, remembering the wonderful life of a woman who influenced so many, even though I had only known her in the ceremonial events of her families most recent life.
I’ve been to funerals of varied aged persons. Some cut down in the prime of their life and others who may have thought God had forgotten about them. But this was the mother of a dear friend. Ending her 62 year journey in this world. This hit closer to home. My mom is only a week older than my friends mother. It could have been my mom and not my friends laid to rest today.
Being an adult where 1/4 of my peers have been lost to abortion, this day sticks out in my mind as a time of great sadness and joy. Sadness in the many in our Country who still believe in this horrible choice. Joy in knowing that with the help of the Nation’s longest running political campaign has changed hearts and minds over the years.
For all those who have left this world in the friendship of the Lord, rest in peace. For all those mothers and fathers who are struggling with an unplanned pregnancy, may the Lord turn their hearts and give them the courage to choose life, after all their mother did.
I recently picked up a book that’s philosophy colored my existace at 17.
Robert Fulghum All I Need To Know I Learned In Kindergarten.
Do you remember this book? Published in 1986 it was practically an overnight best seller. The tag line reads Uncommon Thoughts on Common Things. As I picked up the book I realized I had flagged my favorite stories. The nice neighbor lady who walked right into a spider web on her way to work. Including the chaos that ensued and the spiders prospective of the ordeal. The forgotten Christmas cards found in late August. Caroling on the deck with with suntan lotion and a cold drink. But my most favorite is about his gift to his new Godson with the starter set of Crayolas- the short fat thick ones with training wheels. Grooming his year and a half old Godson on the invention of “wax, color and binder” was a religious experience for Fulghum. He had so much fun gifting adults and children alike with the 64 box of magic, that he was overjoyed to watch when his prodigy discovered what can be done when the color hits the paper.
Probably the most common companion with me in my solitary childhood was my imagination and the vehicle with the built in sharpener. Fulghum is right. The sly grin of inspiration would curl over my lips and I’d attack whatever writing surface was available. Creating is sheer bliss.
I did not discover Fulghum and his wonderful book until the fall of 1990. During which I was Junior in high school. My folks had filed for divorce and I was thrust into adulthood. Reading Fulghum’s book not only gave me perspective on my life as a teenager/adult but also on enjoying life no matter what it looked like. It reminded me that being a kid was okay. I remember going to the discount store with my friends buying new coloring books. 
I not only used Crayolas in my imagination I used oil, water color, and charcoal. So many ideas and emotions I had to get out of my head and on to a canvas that gave me sense in my seemly senseless world of parental divorce.
I found that a box of crayons was not only refreshing it their simplicity, they are also cheaper than a shrink.
Several years later, married Chris came home to our apartment to find me laying on the floor watching Sesame Street and strewn around me were colors and coloring books. He smiled as this was not the first time he had seen me resort to crayons.
But it wasn’t only the “color therapy” that makes me smile when I see crayons, it’s the freedom they bring.
The child-like abandon and imagination that thinks up ways to brighten our world. The simplicity of wax, color and binder to remind me that I am just a kid at heart and it’s okay to play.
Adults, as a rule don’t play or imagine on a daily basis. Advertisers, artists, kindergarten teachers, I’m sure get a bit of play and imagination worked into their day. But I mean really sit down with a blank canvas and just create. Bring forth a creation no one else can duplicate. Unique entirely to you. I’m slowing introducing myself to my old friend made of was, color and binder.
What what the last thing you created?
