The news must be grim in Wilmette because just as most normal and sane people do during harrowing times of looming family tragedy, Donkey has taken to Twitter to post a litany of deep thoughts, some of them coming within seconds of one another.
“There never was a moment, and never will be, when we are without the power to alter our destiny.” – Steven Pressfield, The War of Art
“Five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes … How do you measure the life of a woman or a man?”
“In truths that she learned / in times that he cried / in bridges he burned / or the way that she died?”
“Measure in love. Measure your life in love …seasons of love.” I’ve listened to this for 15 years; the older I get, the more it resonates.
She’s THAT relative, isn’t she? The one who takes a death in the family and makes it all about her. One of my sisters went mental for two weeks when my father got sick and died, leaving me pretty much on my own dealing with arrangements, planning a service, handling my lunatic mother, etc. My mother also made it all about her when my grandmother died — no one was suffering the way she was suffering; the histrionics were off the charts even though she refused to cancel any of her tennis lessons or her daily hair blowout. And this is where we’re going with Donkey, folks. The wailing and keening is going to be epic, and it’s going to be all over Twitter and Facebook. Because she’s so classy and discreet that way.