an old writer and his words

  • SOME SAY

    Some say that we live our livesin ordinary time, fraught in a worldbeyond our comprehension, beyondour control, and not the ordinary timeof the church, which is now anything but ordinary as we must live it.People talk of the new normal as iffurious that abnormality can be normalizedby labeling it as such, rather than actingto return…

    Lou Faber

  • VICARIOUSLY

    I wonder how my life would bedifferent if just once duringmy childhood I had imaginedthere was a ghost under my bedor a skeleton buried in the garden.I read books with thosescenes and I felt deprived.My friends said that I lackedimagination, and I was ableto imagine them fallingvictim to ghosts that inhabitedtheir homes, were carried offby…

    Lou Faber

  • ON ITS HEAD

    Death has an uncanny knackfor turning normalcy on its head.My mother was never readyat the time my parents had to leaveeither selecting outfitsor jewelry, the right shoes,as my father stood by fidgetingand looking at his watch,knowing better than to say anything.Yet she left without notice,no delays at all, just suddenly goneso unlike her to make…

    Lou Faber

  • PAUSE

    The world ended yesterdayjust as predicted, and thenrestarted, and nothing at allseemed to change yeteverything was slightlydifferent, a little askew. I noticed it, although no onearound me detected it,went about their dayas though nothing happened. The preachers didn’t foreseeit coming, hadn’t predicted it,glad when the restart did notsignal the end of days, for theywere no…

    Lou Faber

  • FUBAR

    While I admit that Iam rather an optimistyour pessimism leaves mewith several questions. When you said thingsgo south in a hurrywhere do they landand what airline do they use? And when things goto hell in a handbasketof what is the basket madeand whose hand carries it to hell? And yes, your hardly needto tell me…

    Lou Faber

  • LIFE, ABBREVIATION

    Arrival noted, 11:30 P.M.delivery normal, babyprepared for agency, motherreleased in two days, babyto foster care, thento adoptive parents. No memories, save one,a fall, bathroom, headbleeding, black and whitefloor tile, radiator harderthan child’s skull. Now 70, the same person,a lying mirror each day,a small cemetery, WestVirginia, a headstonea mother finally,a life of mourning.

    Lou Faber

  • WHAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN

    My history is like an ill-sewn quilt, odd piecesof parents stitched looselytogether, always ready to comeapart, fade or be thrown away. Perhaps my history ismore like a belovedold pair of jeans, holesappear and are patched,patches wear out and arereplaced, or the hole isjust left, as if it weresomehow a fashion statement. There is little normalwhen…

    Lou Faber

  • I’LL BE SEEING YOU

    We live in a zoom world, one we never imagined, and one for which we will never be prepared. But it is our life now, friends and family reduced to pixels, voices disembodied.  They tell us this is the new normal, although what is normal about it is beyond logic and comprehension. We believe deeply…

    Lou Faber

  • NORMALITY

    The herons don’t seem particularly happy even though their mating season is over, for the wood storks have taken over the shrubs on the island, their babies endlessly describing their wants and desires. Even the anhinga hang back, staring down, knowing that soon enough the little ones will fledge and life in the wetlands will…

    Lou Faber

  • SUM ERGO COGITO

    Sanity is a state of mind, he said, which I visit only from time to time. It’s a dark and scary place where a majority live and that is reason enough to dwell among the insane.

    Lou Faber