on the day when we are to celebrate our mothers its difficult not to hunker down in the morass of self-pity when yours has passed on, esp far too young, leaving you with babies and a faith that is as wavering your interest in plowing through each day with all you've got, each goal still clearly visible, attainable, but necessitating energy, perseverance, focus. i was emailed by several 960WELI listeners over the weekend, folks who have been with me since the late 90's - with Glenn Beck and I in particular - who were moved by a monologue he delivered on Friday about "finding his faith." One gal, who i recall having serious substance abuse issues but who has persevered, emailed me directly, saying it moved her to tears, pointing out how she had been more a fan of mine in those years, only popped in on Beck sporadically these days but how what he said had made her cry. how i needed to hear it. how faith was the only thing missing in my life at this point. she insists i have everything else i had stated way back in 1998 that i wanted - but lack of faith, of God and/or spirituality, was preventing me from seeing it and thereby finding a peace i so obviously need. i sat and thought about this. about church, the healing and the trappings. about how "finding God" right here on the air - oh man, the potential ratings. but such contrivances would haunt me, a guy haunted by much already, most of it nonsensical. on Sunday, while kids bickered with their mother, and their mother bickered with hers, and i missed the hell out of mine, i prayed. on my knees and prayed. it wasn't some first time in a long time thing. i do this often. it feels as hollow as it has for pretty much two decades now. but i praised and thanked and vented - and words like strength and patience escaped my lips in a whisper. i cannot tell you they felt HEARD. but they also didn't feel absurd. later in the day, as i stirred the gnocchi and the sangria and flipped the vinyl and the Frisbee i realized i am already strong, already patient. because there is no choice. what there is is today, yesterday in a photo album and tomorrow on a calendar...but today is in our fist. i can roll it out like dice or punch a wall with it. i am no closer to God, to my mother or to myself. i am the only thing we all must be: present. and accounted for. and accountable.   

happy mother's day...

vp