The Christ Child Out of Egypt

(I took this picture at a cemetary in Sacramento. I took the shot from just outside the mausoleum.)

It's been close to year since I last finished reading a book (for fun). I just finished Anne Rice's, The Christ Child Out of Egypt a few weeks ago. It's a fascinating fictional work by the author. It tells the story of the Christ child using the first person as a means of relating what life might have been like for the 7 year old Jesus. The author did her research and brought out facts that occurred around this time in the Middle East. It relates stories that deal with Mary and Joseph and other members of Jesus’ family. Anyway, to the best of my recollection I remember Jesus first being mentioned, in the New Testament, at his birth and then when he was 12. I have always thought about Jesus and what life would have been for him as a child. I always thought of him as a poor child living in the ghetto of the time and his father providing for Jesus and his family, working as a carpenter doing construction work. There was a time when I though I could be a carpenter but after trying to build a simple table that kept falling apart I gave up on this venture. For a long time I thought I could be a man of the cloth and teach the Word. I gave that up as I did not think myself worthy of such work. Anyhow, these and other thoughts remain with me.

I was brought as a Catholic back when mass was still being said in Latin. I loved the language; I was a "Latin Lover". There was also a time when I gave up on the faith and tried others, then I thought I was an atheist, then came back to the faith. I think that my faith has always been there, I just wondered off from time to time. Several of my fondest memories, as a child, was going to Catechism. I always think fondly of the times I skipped Catechism and went to play with my friends. My mom found out once and she almost sent us to hell for doing that, she gave us a whipping’, that part was not fun.

I think back to my pre-teen years when religion began to make an impact in my life. As a child whenever I was in trouble I would offer my prayers hoping for a way out of trouble. This followed me to this very day like when I ran a red light the other night and saw a car's headlights go right behind me. My thoughts were; Oh Lord please don't let that be a cop. A common prayer is Please bring (fill in one of my kid's names in here) ___ home safely. Growing up I also remember my parents fighting; Oh Lord please don't let them fight, don't let him hit my mother, please make them stop their shouting. When we went without food; please sweet lord please don't let me get caught stealing this piece of bread (or whatever eatable item I had taken). Please don't let me go to hell for stealing this. Please bless my mother, my father, my brothers, and my sister. Bless this food I'm about to eat. I still remind my kids to offer a prayer of thanks when they're about to eat a meal. I still offer thanks even when we're out eating. My kids don't say much about this so I'm not sure if they're ok with this or not.

As I grew older I realized that even though I left my faith and came back, even though I picked and chose what doctrine to believe, or even though I did not feel the need to pray or follow my faith I always came back to prayer and my beliefs. I think the only way I could get rid of my deep faith would be if my soul was ripped off (it could happen… maybe) in which case I could not go on. Without my soul I would have no faith, without my faith I would have no soul, without prayer I could not have any hope. I've always prayed; at first it was for food, clothing, and shelter (and that my parents would not fight), this later changed where I would start my prayers by giving thanks. I still begin most of my prayers by giving thanks for having food and shelter, for having been blessed with my kids, for being able to enjoy what millions and millions of people throughout the world cannot enjoy on a daily basis. I pray for the homeless and the sick. I pray for people that I know who are experiencing ill health. I pray and give thanks for all that I have been blessed with.

Back to the book; I would highly recommend this book. This intriguing story touches on faith, family, work, and things that every child thinks about. Christ the child, according to the book, was able to realize early in life (or at least by the age of 7) what his purpose in life was and to question why things happened. He realized that he was part of a large and loving family. He understood the word of God at a young age and loved nature at its fullest. Turmoil affects us all and the story helps us realize that if Jesus was able to question his purpose it should make sense to us that we too will question our purpose in life and whether or not we're doing the right thing. It's hard to walk in his sandals. It’s ok to question what goes on in our lives as Jesus did. It’s ok to question ourselves when things don’t seem to go well. Lately I have been moving away from ‘organized religion’ or I thought I was. After reading the book, especially after reading the author’s notes, I’ve come to realize that I need the support of organized religion. I often think that I can do things alone but in many cases I see that I need the support of my family and friends. I realize that I need the support of others who share my faith to rekindle that light in my soul that sometimes seems to dim. Interaction with my immediate and extended family warms my heart and brightens my soul. I thank God for that every day. I end by saying thank you for all that I’ve been blessed for… Amen.

P.S., Dilbert (the cartoon) is running a Jesus (pronounced Hay-Soos) comic for the past few days, it’s quite funny specially when Wally tells Hay-Soos that he has a coffee stain that looks like him.

(Another mausoleum picture at the same cemetary)

Three Words

It was almost a month since the last time I went to Stockton for a Marga(Rita). I have (had) a "drinking buddy" and we get together every so often. We visit a place a couple of blocks from Rita's place. She knows the bartender and we usually have a couple of drinks once in a while. I spoke to her a few days ago and the topic at the time was school, she had decided to take some classes at UOP. I usually don't talk much on the phone but when she talked about school I was interested. Anyway, she said she had some good news and wanted to get together to talk about that. I told her I could go down there Friday or Saturday and we could hang out for a while.

I was excited about going down there for a bit and this weekend was supposed to be nice (weather wise). I headed out after getting some things at the store as I was planning on going out for a picnic at one of the parks down from Rita's. We chatted for a while. Everything seemed honky dory until I had to go to the bathroom. As I threw a tissue in the trash I noticed a pregnancy home tests kit (I think it said Aimstick or Aimstrip), either way I felt like someone hit me in the face when I saw the kit. Whop! I saw like a bright light flash for a second and I leaned on the bathroom sink because I thought I was gonna fall over. I could feel my heart beating, actually I could see it beating on a jugular on the neck, or so I thought. So I stood dazed and quite confused for a few seconds. Oh my God, I prayed for a couple of minutes. Amen, I said and splashed some water on my face.

All kinds of things were going through my head. I looked at the strips again and saw some blue; I think I saw a beer commercial about seeing blue. For some reason I looked all around the bathroom and my eyes stopped at the small window. Too small for me to crawl out of. I took the cell phone out of my pocket, who am I going to call? 911 was the most logical choice but too far fetched. Ok, I decided to go face the music my head was pounding, I looked in the medicine chest to see if there was some aspirin, damn more of those test kits, some Nyquil, but no aspirin. Splashed some more water on my face and looked down on my pants to make sure I had not peed on myself. Phew, no pee but I had forgotten to zip up. I zipped up and NOW I was ready to face the music.

"So Rita, what was the good news you wanted to share with me?" I asked in a nonchalant way but I think my voice cracked. Things seemed to be spinning now. Time for another prayer. I think she said something but I did not hear. "What?" I asked. "I said ..." Again, I did not hear what she said and I was sure I was about to faint. I said something but who knows what it was. I stared at another window; she got up and left the room. I moved my eyes to the door and I got up. I was about to move towards the door when Rita said "here" and handed me some aspirin. I tossed them in my mouth like a handful of sunflower seeds. I chased them down with some water she brought. She said she was ready for our picnic.

The panic subsided a little. I drove where she told me to and we ended up at the big park by the movie theaters, I don't know what it's called. There were some musicians playing and I slowly began to recoup. There was sunshine, the musicians were playing "Don't Worry be Happy" firkin ironic. I could hear some loud teenagers from across the street they seemed to be waiting for a movie, they were near a fountain running around, screaming, and splashing each other. This went on but when the two guys playing Don't Worry be Happy ended their song the screaming stopped the teenagers and a security guard were talking about something, I don't know what but it was quiet. A family walked by with a couple of toddlers and a baby in a stroller, seeing them made me smile. I smiled at the kids as they passed by; they were waving so I waved back. I still had a smile on my face as I turned to Rita. "That reminds me" she said. I thought to myself oh shit here it comes, my smile faded oh so quickly. I could feel my head throbbing; I tried to regain my composure. "Yeah" I said, or something like that, things are a bit hazy even two days later. I could see her mouth moving but I'm not sure if she was saying something or if she was lip-syncing. As I calmed down a bit I could hear her saying her last two cycles had been late (I was about to go psycho on her, no not really) and she thought I would be happy. I'm sure I gave her a WTF kinda puzzled look. She said something about how WE had discussed what we would do if something like this happened and how happy I had seemed about accepting another child, this and that, blah, blah, freaking blah, blah, blah. I don’t remember any of this, so out of my moth comes “I said that!!!?” it must have been the way I said it because I see her smile disappear and her lower lip began to tremble. She kept talking but I could not hear, my head was throbbing some more, I was beginning to get sick, I looked around trying not to see her eye to eye but it did not work.

I looked at her and began to pay attention. I watched her mouth move and then the words coming out of her mouth began to make sense. I paid attention and she told me about the pregnancy test kits she had bought. She told me she had stopped seeing other guys (later that day I found she had lied about this) and was thinking about looking for a new job in Sacramento but since she enrolled at UOP for a couple of classes she thought about going back and getting a degree. I was happy about that.

She then came out and said the unthinkable. She looked at me, I was lost in her eyes, and then she said those 3 lovely words. Those 3 words a man, my age, loves to hear. “I’m not pregnant”. Music to my ears, the sky seemed to open up and the sunshine came through the clouds, I could hear a chorus of Hallelujahs emanating from the clouds. Amen! Amen, amen, amen. Can you hear me my brothers? Amen, amen, amen.

I was so relieved, I pretended to be disappointed, I pretended to be sad, I pretended, such a great pretender. Chrissie Hynde would have been proud. I felt like the last of the great pretenders. Such a relief, OMG, my prayers were answered; I shouldn’t say that it seems sacrilegious; I hope I don’t go to Hell for saying that. Ok, after I calmed down I did tell her how much I cared for her and how great it would have been but I also told her I was too old for that shit. I told her I may turn celibate after this, ok I didn’t say that part. But can you hear me brothers? You too would say something as desperate as that after such a scare. I was scared. Not since I saw the Exorcist, as a young lad, was I so scared. Even the IRS has not scared me as much. Even the time I was taken to the Van Nuys Police Department and had begun to get fingerprinted (another story for another day) I was not as scared as I was today.

We spent more time enjoying our picnic, by now I had begun to enjoy the day. We made plans to go to her favorite bar for drinks and dancing. I said sure, sure and kept smiling. At this time I had begun to think that perhaps another little one running around the house might be nice. I then realized that it must the alcohol making me think like this. That would not be a good thing as much as I love kids I’m too old for that stuff. We enjoyed some quiet time until her phone rang; she walked off to talk to whoever called. I laid on the grass looking up and giving thanks to the man above, for the sunshine, the company, and for letting me off. My mind began to wonder some more. After a few minutes she came back and then my phone rang, it was a restricted number; all they said was “wrong number” and hung up. I said “what?” I looked towards the musicians who had stopped playing “no I’m in Stockton, what? Ok, are you sure, ok, well I’ll let you know in a few minutes. I’ll call you back, bye”. There was no one on the other end but saw this as my way out. I told Rita that my daughter needed to be picked up downtown as she had been visiting some friends in Chico. Mariana was still in Chico but I had to lie to get back home. “You want me to come with you?” She asked. I had to tell her no, but that I would call her later that night.

Since I got a restricted call I could only think of 1 or 2 people that call with a restricted number and I don’t like either one. This time I was glad they had called. We rode back to her place and I dropped her off. I couldn’t wait to get out of town. I rode back in a pensive mood and did a lot of pensing (ok I know that's not a real word). How am I going to break up with her? What excuses can I make? Should I break up in person? Should I drive through In-N-Out? I decided on the last choice.

Things slowly get back to normal. I don’t think I’ll be back in Stockton for a while. Whew, close call.

Note to my kids; use protection unless you're ready.