Extremely Sad News

Via Julie D of Happy Catholic.

Even though things were looking very bright for Kobayashi Maru's brother Ed recently, it seems his time is come to return to the Lord, his Creator. May Kobayashi and all his family find peace and comfort in this time of loss.

It isn't scriptural, and I am annoyed by some of the poet's other works, but this work still gives me chills when I read it. I quoted from it for the family of another friend who died from leukemia back in 1997, and it is still fresh for me today.

Excerpt:

Weep not, weep not,
She is not dead;
She's resting in the bosom of Jesus.
Heart-broken husband--weep no more;
Grief-stricken son--weep no more;
Left-lonesome daughter --weep no more;
She only just gone home.

Please continue to pray for Ed as he takes his leave from this life. There is not a soul that leaves these jars of clay behind without some regret, some unfinished business; I am overjoyed to hear of Ed's conversion and reception into the Catholic Church.

Blessed is the Lord our God, ruler of the universe, the Just Judge. May the memory of the righteous ever be for a blessing.

Cancer Update

Sorry not to have posted in so long. (I feel as if I were talking to my own personal diary here . . . ) Things have been very, very busy, what with Mrs. Yurodivi's medical stuff and my own extra musical gigs on the side.

At the risk of giving away my location and identity, I can no longer conceal my long-time involvement with the Sons of Abraham, so to speak, but I don't want to put the more common name by which they are known, because it attracts all sorts of kooks on the Web. So you'll just have to figure out who I'm talking about from context.

What do I do with this shadowy cabal, whom many accuse of divided loyalties (kind of like Catholics, I suppose)? Well, I sing. I sing a lot over a period of ten days at the beginning of their calendar year, of which this is the beginning of the 5,766th. To be perfectly honest, it's the only religious gig I've ever had where I haven't been asked to sing softer. They actually like robust singing.

Penni of Martha, Martha was kind enough to write and ask how Mrs. Yurodivi is doing. The short version is, she's currently undergoing radiation therapy; she's at the beginning of the second week of a six-week protocol. In fact, she just forwarded me an E-mail from a work colleague telling her she looked better, and she responded, "Yes -- the radiation is making me GLOW!"

So anyway. She's doing well with the treatments, and getting on the treadmill every day or two because that's supposed to help you feel better when you're being nuked every day. The unfortunate part of the whole thing is that it supposedly breaks down your skin to the point where no plastic surgeon will want to do reconstruction; however, it's possible that in the long run it will return to normal. Your prayers are still appreciated, and we can only hope at this point that she will be okay in the long run. Just today there was an article on Sky News about the fact that two thirds of women diagnosed with breast cancer today will still be living in 20 years' time. That's a good thing, even compared with survival rates from the early 1990s. Read the whole thing.

Of Dogs, Babies and Sterility

Yesterday at Amy's place there was an interesting post about the latest trend among pet owners: the "Bark Mitzvah."

Look: I love my dog. And, as you can tell from the vitriol directed at "childless couples" in the comments box, I'm exactly the last person anyone wants to hear from about this. Of course, that rarely prevents my speaking my mind (or blogging it, as the case may be). So I am prepared to opine.

First of all, as I commented at Amy's, animals don't need religious rituals, other than the occasional (and optional) blessing. They don't sin. Even though I know full well that my dog knows acceptable from unacceptable behavior, she doesn't have the knowledge of good and evil that is a prerequisite for sin. What's more, making a dog a bar mitzvah makes a mockery of the ritual. Jesus even said something about the distinction between dogs and children.

Still, it galls me to be told that spending money on my dog is wrong. One combox expert at Amy's even expresses resentment that people spend perfectly good money on surgery to save their pets when there are starving children in India. (Okay, she doesn't say that literally, but the idea is there.) I am reminded that it was Judas who complained about money being wasted when it could have been given to the poor. I don't want to be in that kind of company if I can help it.

It galls me more to be castigated by the fruitful for failing to have children. To those who think we should be ashamed, I am reminded of Hagar and Penninah shaming their rivals because of their barrenness. I can only say: We tried. God has other plans for us, apparently. And I have every confidence that, in taking in this little dog from the shelter and giving her a good home we have done a good work in God's eyes. That good work is not diminished by the undoubtedly much nobler and greater good works of others.

But I suppose the thing that galls me the most is this false dichotomy: either you love children and are a good person, OR you a selfish, materialistic and barren person who places animals above people. Well, it isn't that simple. Some of us animal-lovers would like to have children. But at age forty, after a good many years of trying, and now that Mrs. Yurodivi has (or, we hope, has had) cancer, it just isn't going to happen for us. In fact, seeking to have children now would be a major threat to her health, and it would also be pretty reckless to have children knowing that there was a significant chance their Mama wouldn't be around to see them graduate from middle school. It is written, do not tempt the Lord thy God. Trust is one thing, but insouciance is another; I'm not picking up any adders or gargling with lye anytime soon, either (although I have kinfolk who have done both of those things at church).

Some of my faithful readers (maybe both of them) may be turned off by this post, and lump me in with the selfish animal elevators. That's their prerogative. Believe me, if I had my choice, we'd have a houseful of kids, and they'd be doing the yardwork instead of me.

But you know what?

a) God has His plans.

b) I am not God (for which I am truly thankful).

c) I assume that my little family -- the wife, the dog and I -- all fit into those plans somehow.

End of rant. As a famous Roman governor once said, Was ich gescrieben habe, das habe ich gescrieben.