Saturday, January 03, 2009

NEXT POST
"I'm Dying;" Please Ponder My Plea copyright © 2009 Betsy L. Angert. BeThink.org I did not know of him or of his condition until today. When he first approached me, he assured me, I did not need to assist him. He was well taken care of. kwickkick wanted to help me help myself. Indeed, he hoped to lend a hand to all who reside in America. He had only his story, a reminder of what is most important to a person when they learn they are about to pass. Kwickkick offered his plea, to you, and to me, and asked us to ponder. As he shared, I thought of how the compassionate chap, kwickkick could have been me. However, he did not know of my situation. As I said, we had just met. The 34-year-old man, who discovered just hours earlier, he has but little time to live, is a contract employee in the sales division at software company. He is as many skilled workers in the United States. kwickkick is one of the forty-five, or more, millions of Americans without health insurance. Too many of whom understand that the lack of medical coverage is a death sentence waiting to happen. For kwickkick, the decree has been delivered. It was as he expected and thus he penned, I'm Dying. [Please click on the his statement to read his tale which appears just below.] As any healthy person, I cannot begin to imagine what kwickkick feels or what lies ahead for him. However, as a human, as one who can relate to a life without medical insurance, I understand the historical references so eloquently stated in an essay so emotive. While my circumstances were never as dire as his, as an educated professional employee, for all but this past year of my life, I too never had...
PREVIOUS POST
A Day That Lives In Infamy This much is clear: violence breeds violence, repression brings retaliation, and only a cleansing of our whole society can remove this sickness from our soul. ~ Robert F. Kennedy copyright © 2009 Betsy L. Angert. BeThink.org It is the seventh day of the month, a date that now lives in infamy. On this occasion, she passed. She was killed by an attack that was all too sudden. Her physical presence on Earth did not end in the month of December. The year was not 1941. The events at Pearl Harbor did cause my Mom's heart to stop. Indeed, she only ceased to exist in a form that I can see with my eyes or touch with my hand, less than a decade ago. Truly, it feels as if Mommy just took her leave. In every moment, she is still with me. All these years later, I mourn my loss. Oh, if only I could bring her back. She enters into my dreams almost daily. Since childhood, I knew, if she were gone, I might not be able to go on. Today, on the anniversary of her bodily discorporation, I mourn, as I trust she would, the casualties in Iraq, Afghanistan, Gaza, Israel, and anywhere that war delays, defers, or denies family time, space, and a proper setting in which to grieve. Unreported by United States Armed Forces, the Bush Administration, or the American free press, it was estimated that since the US-led invasion began, as of September 2007, over a million Iraqis were killed. Opinion Research Business, a prominent British survey agency, approximated 1.2 million Iraqi residents violently realized a horrific conclusion to life. At times, entire families were among the fatalities, survived by only friends, and relatives who lived. That does not negate the notion, that someone, somewhere, suffered...

A being that believes . . . "thinking is the best way to travel!" [Mike Pinder, Moody Blues]

Recent Comments