Thursday, October 27, 2016


Or why I get excited about earthquakes.

I read once that children of alcoholics and those coming from abusive, dysfunctional family settings love drama.  Gay people do too, so I'm told.  Not sure about SSA people though.

So anyway.

I had a really crazy childhood.  My mother freaked out every time the wind picked up, or a storm was approaching, or someone looked at her wrong.  If my dad was late for supper she called all the bars to see if he was there.  (He usually yelled out, "Tell her I just left.")  If he was really, really late, she called the hospitals.  Once we were in a hail storm at an amusement park, huddled under a tent over some sort of ride, she was crying and frantically praying the act of contrition out loud, hugging my dad and me.  She was terrified.  I may have mentioned before that she and my dad had violent fights and sometimes both chased us around the house trying to beat us up - yelling and screaming, overturning furniture and so on.  It wasn't unusual to be awakened in the night by screams, or a slap across the face and shouting - "Get out of that bed!"

There was a lot of drama.

I thought maybe I should mention this in order to explain why I get excited over earthquakes, tsunamis, hurricanes, tornadoes, and other disasters.  Don't get me wrong, I am concerned for the victims, loss of life and property, and the souls lost - but I'm really fascinated by the events.

Once, when the sirens went off and reports that a tornado touched down in Minneapolis, I ran to the roof of my building to see it pass by.  It was only 8 blocks away.  I was disappointed because it was so low all I could see was a wall of swirling clouds, it had no distinct funnel.  I was maybe too close.

So you see.  I get excited - not sure that is the right word for it, but you get what I mean.

Both my parents are dead now and I miss their calls.  They enjoyed calling to say they were disappointed in me, and that they were going to disown me.

And I still laugh.

Oh.  My Internet was down this morning too.


  1. Hi Terry,

    I thought of you when I read this fine article ... passing it along:

    Drama in the home? I'm tired of it and pray for silence and peace and reconciliation.

  2. well, "I" certainly understand Terry ! It took me decades to realize that my periodic 'geographical cures' (i.e. running away) were a feeble attempt to escape myself: this would be when the internal drama, the inner torment, could not be assuaged by some huge drama occurring by someone, something outside of myself. The Peace of Christ ? huh...?
    That is why it took so long for me to embrace Catholicism: can't say I Returned, when it did not actually ever initially take. The simmering hostility, jealousy, competitiveness between the parents really wound-up the three of us.
    The very ideas of...humility...'losing' one's self, for the Other...etc., were of course just odd and impossible.
    There will be no resolution, for me at least, until the afterlife. but hey ! simply dramatic clouds/skies do it for me.
    Oh writing this brings on such happy memories of the first time I watched the movie adaptation of Long Day's Journey Into Night ! At long last a semi-mirror image of my family, down to Irish-ness of it all.

  3. My first prayers to God generally involved me begging Him to split up my parents. I love and "get" Mary, Jesus and the Holy Spirit but God the Father...still working that one out. Once I learned my dad could never give me what he didn't have it was a lot easier to love him. Unfortunately that happened about 20 years after he died.

  4. Oh Angela I hear you. When one lacks the unconditional love a parent is 'supposed' to give, especially when one is a girl...and a father needs more from You...the repercussions don't let up, do they.

    1. Consolata, I keep starting this reply and then editing and deleting. So I will just say your comment is Truth.

    2. that is ok: these things are so very hard to articulate. age is also no impediment to suffering as if one is still....young.
      that is: the soul is ageless and the experiences can/do feel immediate.

  5. It's funny - I had a sort of experience - hard to describe - but it seemed to me I understood that souls are different - doh! Of course they are. But I was thinking that if I could see my parent's souls - reconciled, purified - I wouldn't recognize them. Charity would have completely transformed them - and it would be a sort of miraculous encounter - our memories are in a way devoid of charity - not our fault - just the way it happened.

  6. Yes ! I pray and ask my parents to pray for me, now. All is healed now. When we meet will be pure joy. Our memories...are perhaps weapons we fling at ourselves.
    ...My memory is so surely a sharp and deadly weapon that I Fling at Myself with regularity...
    I try to soften it, I do. as for the harm I have done to others...I can only pray/hope their memories are far weaker than my own...

  7. Now this is good drama ... maybe our Lord in the Blessed Sacrament is call him?

  8. Because God can one up your parents by throwing whole cities? That's why you're fascinated by weather? Or have you seen "The Year without a Santa Claus" one time too many? What?

    1. It the thrill involved - danger excites a sense of fear, but it's thrilling. I suppose it's why people do extreme sports or are storm chasers.

    2. Hm. I've been reading about mountaineering on 8000M peaks, which is much the same perhaps - or not Like I'm just waiting to see who dies. That is so morbid, but intensely interesting.

  9. explains Nimrod's behavior....

    Music for this post should be "Excitable Boy" - Warren Zevon


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