Several years ago, my friend Ramon bought land on a hillptop near the beach. He built a large villa for his family. (This is his view).
There on the side deck, we drink wine and Presidente beer, playing dominoes until all hours of the night. We talk about sports, politics, philosphy, and our favorite subject – women. Last year he told me he wanted to build a small church near the villa. I volunteered to help out. (I had my own ideas of construction in mind).
We built the tiny church during my February/March vacation earlier this year. I laiud blocks, plastered, and mixed concrete. The painting and final touches were completed after I returned to the United States.
The church’s inauguation was this past Saturday. Over 200 persons stood outside the church for a mass and celebration (in blistering 100+ degrees heat). It is the only church in the beach community.
The tiny church only has seating room for 18 persons. It is not the size of the church that mattered. We knew the community would never fit there. It is what it represents.
If I don’t accomplish anything in my life, I know I helped create a little positive place of hope in a corner of the world. And honestly, that is enough for me.
I will let you know of my own construction project in a future post.
You can’t appreciate the light
If you never embraced the dark
No matter how bad things get
Happiness may be a step away
You don’t have to be a dead
Philosopher to understand
one simple truth of life
The sun shines bright for everyone
but on every life
A little rain must fall
Photograph taken by unknown source. It is the only remaining photo of Lonely Author’s mother.
This is for every woman who made the sacrifice of putting their dreams on hold.
Dreams On Hold
Once upon a time She met a man Placed her dreams on hold She slaved for a boss Ran home to cook meals Birth a little treasure Years of housework Abuse and neglect Devoted herself to husband’s pleasures Sacrificed for everyone Gave up everything Including herself And her happiness Her boy is living his dream She missed the train of life Everyone left her behind She lived unappreciated Forgotten Alone Sad but so true People forget Little girls have dreams too
Seven billion people dead; yet his selfish heart only mourned for one.
The distraught figure dragged his body to the ledge of the mountaintop, as if he alone towed the burdens of a dying planet. He looked down on the futuristic metropolis constructed over the ashes of mankind. The alien city with its pale glass structures resembled a crystal cemetery of broken dreams.
Clutching the last remaining evidence that humans once inhabited the Earth, he groaned.
Through misty eyes, Jake Cross admired a photograph of his wife Lisa. His heart pounded against his ribs like a relentless bill collector at the door. Intolerable emptiness grew inside him like a cancerous black hole, eating away at his brittle psyche, devouring his aching soul.
He pressed the photo against his heaving chest as if her image could wipe away his pain.
Who better to console him? Lisa always neutralized his sorrows with a smile or warm embrace. Wiping the moisture from his eyes, a warm breeze caressed his skin reminding him of her gentle touch. He trembled like a virgin relishing her first kiss. Would he eventually forget the sound of her soft voice?
Jake couldn’t live like this. Earth without Lisa would be as cold and desolate as Pluto. He vowed to search for her. He needed to know if she survived. A horrifying thought crept into his mind like a swarm of stampeding centipedes. What if she suffered the same fate as the seven billion others?
He rubbed the photo against his chest with violent motions like an irritated student hoping to erase an error from a page. He preferred to cling to diminishing hope because the alternative…..
Jake shut his moist brown eyes.
It would be easier to stop breathing than to live another day without her.
– Jake Cross is the main character of my manuscript/screenplay Paradox.