A Day in the Life of Chaos

The first time I remember confronting death was as a child.  My mother took me to visit my paternal grandmother and grandfather in a Los Angeles suburb.  It was the kind of place that the original boom California generation moved to as a relief for what central Los Angeles had become. I was twelve years old and my memories of my grandfather were limited as we had moved north to Alaska when I was two years old.  I had only seen him a couple of times since then and those memories were clouded in the fog of early youth.  Memories colored by photographs that likely don’t recall but simply recreate a memory that had left the mind or been buried within its deep recesses.    My grandfather was debilitated.  He sat in his naugahyde recliner with a blanket wrapped around him watching reruns of Bonanza and Big Valley.  He was suffering from brain cancer and his time was limited but when you are young, and have no concept of death, time seems to have little finality.  For a young mind, Gra

As we age bit by bit, soul by soul those that we know or better said that we knew go away.  Where they go is a subject for a different conversation.  Some will tell you heaven others will tell you dirt.  Truth be told these are philosophical questions much larger than my humble mind can ponder.  I can say that birth to life to death is a natural progression of organic life and it is only logical that those we cross paths with in life will at some point cease to exist.  While logical in the course of human events it still doesn't make the event any less painful. I don't understand what happens to some people when they grow old. Sometimes it seems like something changes in the mind.  I don't know if it is a way of compensating for the eventual reality or if it is a reflection of true emotions.  Perhaps this is one of the things that makes it so difficult.  In my life and family I have had considerable experience with this phenomenon. It started with a dysfunctional relation