Changing Monday Musings

Often, I would move.

Before Blackshear, the longest I was in any one place was Bridgeport, Michigan.  From First grade until my Senior year, it was my primary residence (well, also my secondary and thridadary for that matter).  And yet, if it weren't for Facebook and the efforts of my schoolmate, Benita Vierke Collins, I wouldn't know anybody from there now.  I have no familial connections there, few who would even remember me,

I have no friends or contacts from anywhere else I lived, not even through social media.

So, to live in the same place for over two decades, and know many of the same people over that time, is something new to me.  You cannot help but see the effects of the winds of change.

We lost a devoted and kind man recently, a special part of our parish community, recently, and had the memorial service Saturday.  Edwin Herrin was an extraordinary individual, one who had always made us feel warm and accepted at our church.  He always had a kind word for my family, and never missed his hugs with our family.

Edwin was an important symbol of change at our church.  When the winds of change came to our church, and we had to decide how welcoming we would be to the LGBT community, this conservative man, and his wife, Cynthia, decided to stay with us, at the same time that many others were leaving.  To me, he was a living symbol of the power of love.  And that beacon of hope and tolerance he lit, will be remembered and cherished at our church - always!

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My father, a sometimes stubborn man, taught many important, wonderful things.  One of the most significant was adaptability.  Yes, he could be stubborn and set in his ways, but when it came time to adapt to the next phase of life, he did so with faith and courage.  Over time, he lost his mobility, and his ability to do things he was used to doing.  Each time he would stoically make adjustments, and make the best of things.

It's not always easy to go through the different stages of life.  But my father showed me how to do it with as much grace as possible.

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Speaking of grace, my friend, Grace Lee, our 90-year-old superstar writer, had a pacemaker installed this week.  The surgery was a success, but she is battered and bruised, and recovery will take some time.  She reminds me of my father and with each obstacle that change presents, she is determined to adjust and get the most out of life.


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And change has already come to my new work schedule.  They prefer I work M-W- F, rather than TU-W-TH.  The most significant effect to you, my dwindling faithful few post followers, is that fiction writing will be concentrated on Tuesdays and Thursday, and I may (MAY) use some of the work days for blog posts.  We'll see,  This could also change.


My view numbers have declined.  It may be due to quality.  I can't rule that out.  But I think Facebook has become more selective in whose newsfeeds my posts appear on.  It wants me to pay them money to "boost posts" but that don't make no sense, as there is no monetary component to my blog.  Years ago, I was banned for life from them running ads on my blog.

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The winds of change may be finally coming to the Presidency.  The shutdown has backfired bigly on Captain Bone Spurs, and the jig is almost up with his many sins, especially becoming more explicit about his close ties to Russia.  I won't go into it here.  I'm running out of writing time, and either you believe it or not.  I'm told that I can never persuade the Trumpeteers to change.

But, you know what?  The winds of change do blow through. So, maybe I shouldn't give up so quick.

The winds of change blew through my church, and some of my fellow parishioners changed with it.  Like Edwin, they saw the light of love and hope.

Maybe that can happen again.

Until next time,

T. M. Strait