From a funny scene in W.C. Fields/Mae West classic "My Little Chickadee:"
W.C.'s character, Cuthbert J. Twilly is tending bar in an Old West saloon. A patron says:
"Squawk Mulligan tells me you buried your wife several years ago."
Twilly: "Ah Yes, I had to - She died."
Also: attributed to author Mark Twain: "Rumors of my death are greatly exaggerated."
With these sentiments, I resume my Old Blog, as a few devotees have lately told me that I should get into "blogging." I finally succumbed and began the process of starting a New Blog. In this process the great Internet authorities reminded me that I had had a blog. (Of course, though in my dotage, I did remember the Old Blog but assumed that it had died or somehow been consigned to the ash pits of cyber-world.) Well, it turns out that it is alive - even though it had been neglected for about five years.
Rather than re-invent the wheel of My Blog, I therefore am going to attempt a revival, by first of all "catching up."
Most significantly, I am now retired. My physician told me back in '15 or '16 that health issues demanded that I retire from active ministry. This early retirement was approved, but delayed. I was, after all, still capable of performing my pastoral duties with some assistance (Thanks Fathers Nicholas, Joachim, Maximos, Moses, and Paissios). Then early one morning in 2016 I awoke with signals that I needed to get to a hospital. I drove myself ("Naturally") to St. Francis' emergency room. Upon examination, I was hastily conveyed from the ER to St. Luke and went from ambulance straight into surgery. It turns our that a prior repair to an aneurysm had failed and I was bleeding internally. Thankfully, the surgeons were successful. (Later the chief surgeon confided in me that it was a wonder that I'd made it as far as the ER. I guess I'm "tough.")
This adventure signaled that retirement could no longer be delayed. Fortunately the monks of Holy Resurrection Monastery had already been assisting me for some months and agreed to "take over" at the parish until a new pastor could be assigned to replace the old pastor - me. This was truly heroic and generous of the good Fathers, as parish ministry was not within their usual monastic calling. Furthermore, the delay in finding a permanent pastor was a lengthy one. Nevertheless, I was now out of the picture at St. George, where I'd served since 1995.
So.....I found myself suddenly retired, and coping with a variety of disabling physical vicissitudes. Even after more than three years I am still adjusting, and trying to figure out what it means to be a priest who is unable to celebrate the Sacraments (except Confession), a monk without a monastery, an old man with physical limitations, living far away from family, etc. I can't walk very far, can't travel very far, can't carry very much, can't stand very long, can't sit very long, dealing with physical pain on-and-off.
Am still living in my little urban hermitage, able to take care of myself and my two companion animals, Rex the dog and Frankie the cat. I'll be back on this blog soon to reflect on some of the issues and concerns, lessons learned, musings, etc. Who knows? I might become regular.
Photo: Retired, with my icons in my holy place.
