L. D. Parker

Once again I find myself returning to the subject of inanimate loss…mostly. I say mostly because this time is actually a combination of losing a material item, as well as a bit of a sense of security. On Sunday, my car was broken into. Sad, tragic, yes. Of course the part of it that absolutely disgusts me is WHERE my car was at the time. Where you ask? The parking lot…of…a…church. I mean, come on criminal people. While sure, unattended cars are generally fair game for c

Today my family laid to rest my Aunt Anne. She succumbed to cancer after a very long battle that began shortly after laying to rest her husband, my Uncle Sonny, who also died of cancer (although a different kind). Until today I had not cried for the loss, but there is nothing like a funeral to bring up those emotions and the tears simply must follow. Aunt Anne was so much more than just an Aunt. She and my mother were best friends, who then married brothers. They were inc

I’ve written in the past about loss, but it was of the inanimate kind. Today I’m writing about the kind of loss we always dread—the living kind. I expected to not leave my house today. I had three goals for the day: 1. Do laundry. 2. Complete the IRS paperwork for one of my volunteer organizations. 3. Count the money from the school’s Harvest Festival. Simple, right? Of course not. At 7:37 this morning my phone rang. It was mom. Her cat—a 22 year old evil thing who lo

This post is the final in a three part series on the topic of suicide. Click for the first and second parts. My final set of thoughts on the subject of suicide have to do with those who choose to involve others in the termination of their lives, without consent. I should probably warn that this is the one segment that I am virtually incapable of being neutral or understanding on. My feelings are very strong, so if you consider this to be an okay thing to do, you may want t

This post is the first in a three part series on the topic of suicide. Click for the first and third parts. Death in general is an uncomfortable topic, one that we tend to avoid discussion of—at least most Americans do. Suicide is viewed in such a way that it is whispered about…glossed over…never really talked about. Why is this? It’s too “private”? It’s “shameful”? Or maybe because most of us just don’t understand it. I tend to fall into the “don’t understand” category

This post is the first in a three part series on the topic of suicide. Click for the second and third parts. This is a tough one. Early this week I learned that someone I knew died over the weekend. A few days later I found out that it was a suicide. That one word instantly changed my feelings on the death, which has given me cause to pause and examine my thoughts on this very taboo subject. This posting is the first in a series of three on this subject, because my feelin

Today I find myself mourning a loss…that of my Kindle. I’m eternally absentminded and as a result tend to misplace things all the time. Generally speaking they turn up after a while, and frequently in places like the shelf of a closet, a drawer in my kitchen, the pocket of the car, or (once) on top of my car—and how that TomTom survived overnight in the rain without breaking or being stolen is still a mystery. My Kindle, sadly, has been missing for about three weeks and has