“Every problem is an assignment designed by your soul.”
(Robin Norwood)

At eighty, I learned very little. That our parents lie. That we as parents lie. And faith is lost when that reality becomes clear.

I lost mostly all faith.

But then again, even the faithless have to believe in something.

Believe in fear, maybe… Or no longer believing in that humanesque shame, like when Eve placed leaves across her vagina and nipples.

There was that same sense of rawness and nakedness to my pain too. Almost as if this realization,  faithlessness, call it what you want –  was the final breakthrough. So maybe Eve’s eyes were opened from eating that apple? From losing her faith.

We each have our personal ones.

Our personal breakthroughs.

For me, it was a empty heart. Of an abandoned illusion. I gave up on it. Doctors asked me to sign the paper, “You know,” they said, “in case you want it brought back to life.”

Check the box [yes] or [no].

I carried my books of prayers. “Just in case,” I thought. My many reminders of where my faith should be.

Fear still lingers.

Character dialogue based on a family member, who recently passed away. If you could think of a loved one’s last dialogue/thought, what would they say?

What you think?

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