Suzy

It was such a nice feeling, being happy.  For 24 hours I felt really optimistic. I felt proud of my resourcefulness. I could breathe again. I felt maybe God was giving me back a bit of goodness for all I’ve been handing out lately.

It’s all crap. There is no God. Doesn’t matter how I came to that conclusion; I felt the same after Tino died, and now I'm embarrassed I fell for that hook, line, and sinker, again, when I could have spent the past 20 years having faith in heredity; reincarnation; even horoscopes.

It’s all an illusion to make us believe in something. Why should we?  My maternal grandfather (who I'm calling an Agnostic Atheist to avoid confusion), didn't. Longtime friend Inga, who tends her garden and shrugs when one plant dies next to another identically-cared-for, doesn't.  Who’s to say they’re wrong, some pedophile in a robe?


So I’m heading over to the Dark Side to spend my senility. Losing my marbles never frightened me, because I always held the belief that we can live just as exhilarating an experience inside our Minds as we can out of doors, so to speak.

I came to this conclusion as a small child, when I first encountered a person with a disability: a family friend’s daughter, Suzy. I don’t know what was wrong with Suzy and as Christian Scientists the adults never went into physical details. Suzy would sit quietly, rocking back and forth, wanting to tap her mouth, which is why her Dad is gently holding her arms still. Suzy didn’t speak words but her Mother understood her sounds completely.

Look at that smile!  Suzy was loved and she knew it. Whenever we ‘youngsters’ played, Suzy was usually with us and oh, how she’d laugh. One day my mother and I were discussing Suzy's ‘problem’ and I said to Mom,

“You can’t tell me that Suzy isn’t having the most wonderful time inside her own mind (not hindered by what the rest of us perceive as deficiencies).” That threw my mother, who simply said what a great way to look at it. I believed it then and I believe it still.

Suzy passed away before her 16th birthday.  That handsome young fellow in the photo is Suzy’s older brother Paul, who was killed at age 24 during the Vietnam conflict. His tribute on the Vietnam Memorial in Washington calls to me, and so I plan to visit one day. We've lost touch with their middle sister, (a slumber party guest), but I sure remember lots of fun times.

It doesn’t matter whether or not Suzy believed in God, does it? She’s gone on to a better experience somehow, somewhere, we choose to believe. Would you blame her parents if they lost their faith at some point, even for a short time? (I don't know that they did.) Then neither will it matter for me. Besides, most religions are pretty the same: 

Be nice to one another, no?

Ahhhh…that feels better.