The dictionary defines a blessing as “a gift that is received at the right moment.” As a lifelong pragmatist, I have a tendency to refer to this condition as head up a dark place.
My friend Lillith and I have enough in common to be compatible, but different enough to be interesting.
She earned her law degree, passed the bar but wasn’t comfortable with the way the legal system works. She disliked most judges, probably because she’s smarter than the majority of them, so she changed her career path.
Lillith is my Woodstock hippie pal and discovered way before it was “in” to follow her passion. She is a walking contradiction, a practical problem-solving genie and a sponge for snake oil pitchmen.
Lillith can be annoyingly positive. When I find myself in an unpleasant situation, I want empathy. Lilith takes a different approach. She says these situations are blessings…opportunities for personal growth.
Me: “My least favorite house guest is arriving uninvited for an extended visit.”
Lillith: “It’s a blessing; an opportunity to spend time at the movies.”
Me: Sniveling over a failed opportunity.
Lillith: “It’s a blessing. When things don’t work out, it is the loving hand of the almighty gently steering me away from some SOB who I would murder. It is God seeing to it that I am not found sitting on the bench outside the Grand Jury room, waiting.”
Me: “_______ (family member) did not read my book.”
Lillith: “Most blessings have to do with Family. Remember that blood really is only seventeen percent thicker than water. I learned that in an 8th grade Science class filmstrip. I remember hearing that bit of scientific information and thinking there is a fact I can USE.”
Sometimes I receive a correction from Lillith on how to deliver the obvious with more class:
Me: “I can’t afford to (whatever).”
Lillith: “It’s not how I choose to allocate my resources.”
I called Lillith and asked her to identify a blessing regarding today’s current political climate.
She hung up on me.
Categories: Biased, Unbalanced and Politically Incorrect
I am a lifelong Southerner, short story author, and essayist. Home is Dallas, Texas.
My essays have appeared in Flash Fiction Magazine, The Dead Mule School of Southern Writing.