Thursday, March 08, 2007

A Vestigial Savage

" religious belief teaches me to feel as safe in battle as in bed. God has fixed the time for my death. I do not concern myself about that, but to be always ready, no matter when it may overtake me. That is the way all men should live, and then all would be equally brave." Thomas Jonathan (Stonewall) Jackson

I have always hoped for a Glorious End. It might have something to do with my Cold War childhood or my fascination with Fox's Book of Martyrs. I tend to think it has something to do with the vestigial savage in my bloodline. I imagine my family tree has at least one Claymore-wielding Celt, one Comanche brave, one concentration camp liberator, several drunken Irishmen, and an assortment of lesser pagans and hoodlums fueled more by a genetic compulsion to endure under fire than by a superficial machismo. I am the product of a wild and colorful lineage. I am a child of glory. I can't help that I was born a girl.

One of the reasons I want to have children so very much is that I want to meet these people who will be the fusion of my wild Black Irish and David's cool (and nearly undiluted) German restraint. I can't imagine what kind of oddball will result from this genetic pairing. I can't wait to meet this person. I like him already.

As I pray for this person's arrival (where are you already?) I pray that he will be a savage. A warrior. Fearless in the face of peril. Because I think this world will see some peril and I don't see many Brave Men to face it. I see smart men. I see rich men. I see men who like to talk and be recognized for it, but I don't see many men who like to shut up and do. Or women either, for that matter. I want to be brave. I want to be fearless. I want to be strong. I don't want to betray my personal Great Cloud of Witnesses. I can't help that I was born a girl.


Anonymous said...

I miss you. You and your thoughts and hopes and spirit are beautiful.


Shan. said...

Wow! That was awesome! I can't wait to meet that little person either. I see him already. He will be adorable but slightly messy and shabby. She won't care if her hair is messed up. They will play pots and pans on the kitchen floor and whoop and holler with a headress and tomahawk from The Cracker Barrell. I see baby Berkenstocks with socks, soft cotton T-shirts and lots of hardback classic children's stories. Oh, I can't wait!

Shan. said...

Or of course he could be serious and studious and thoughtful and choose his words carefully. That wouldn't be bad either....

Anonymous said...

No one can write like you. I want it put into a book and hidden in a little box just above me and it can go down into the earth with me.

Some who loves you the mosterest