Author: RW Doerfer

A Confession to Dorothy Francis [Short] Doerfer

Dear Mom. It’s Mothers’ Day and I am remembering you with love which I have done on most of these special days over the years. Sadly, it comes to mind that I have given you more mental and heartfelt love in these days than I ever gave you in the nineteen years we shared a household. I really believe the phrase ‘I love you’ was scarcely heard in the Doerfer and Short families and, as I recall the phrase was just as absent in the years of my presence with you.

It’s also my impression that part of your motivation for marrying my father was to find the love and security you passionately desired. Sadly, it didn’t happen and after ten years, the birth of a son and another child on the way, he deserted us. Over the next ten years, your self-centered adolescent and teen-age son, to my knowledge, never uttered the phrase ‘I love you’ or said ‘thank you’ near enough. I understand your third ten-year period as a single mom with my sister were somewhat of an improvement in hearing expressions of appreciation for your motherhood.

You did have three men in your early years as a single mom who wanted to fill the gap of love in your life, but because of your concern of the effect that each of them may have had on your children, you sacrificed another married life and turned them away. There was a fourth man of interest but because he just couldn’t give up the wife he still had, that relationship went nowhere as well. In my unsolicited opinion, you were better off without any of them.

The rest of your life, especially after retirement steadily improved in demonstrations of love, verbally and physically, thanks to your daughter and her family. At least, in phone calls and two personal visits from 2000 miles away, I was finally able to say, ‘I love you.’ Yeah, I know, I was a slow learner. during that time, but in the years I have left I will faithfully give you my love in heart and mind.

Since 1989 you have been within the love and oneness of God, which is the ultimate destiny to which we will all spiritually return.

And so it is. Your loving son, Rolland.

It has been a statistical fact that the United States has been a predominantly Christian nation, even from the time of its very beginning. Even though its own ranks may be waning in numbers, according to some observers, the faith still has the most adherents.

With this bit of knowledge in mind, the vast majority of participants in the protests of recent years, especially those that turned destructive with many injuries and even deaths, one must conclude that a vast majority of them were raised in Christian homes. At the time the protests were more frequent occurring, I was asking myself,

“What were their grandmothers thinking of such activities; or their parents?”

Although a few of them were also likely in the midst of things.”

“Did they have their preacher’s, priest’s or other religious leader’ blessings?” [I felt I knew the answer to that, except in extreme parishes]

Even of greater significance, to some people; What would Jesus say? Would He help them overturn that car, or help light the torch to be thrown into an innocent business owners front window and steal anything or everything?

Would He address the crowd and rev the protestors up to do even more?
Nearly all of us, except certain extremists, know or admit the answer to that.

I wrote this many months ago but even though the riotous events have become almost non-existent, we’re only one unfortunate incident away from an explosive new response. One thing I do believe is true; most protesters go into their involvement with no intent to do anything but carry a sign and chant their feelings. There are those extremists, however’ that sit back and await the opportunity to infect those ranks with the malicious fervor of anger, hate and indiscriminate destruction, with the sole intent of creating social and political disorder. This in turn infects the emotional bearing of many other protesters who then join in.

Now is the time for potential protest organizers to develop a plan for neutralizing these social extremists from disrupting legitimate protests.

That’s my story and I’m stickin’ to it.

There are certain words, especially in political discourse, that we hear too often such as ‘everyone knows that’ and ‘that’s what they always do,’ which is a double generalization. Frequently, ‘they’ is a nebulous group of people somewhere out there with no identity or proof that’s what ‘they’ think or even exist.

It seems to me that at least every other week there is a new, oddly spelled drug on the market. Do the folks who create these ‘wonders of improved health’ have a reservoir of names from which to draw? Is it possible that big pharma has an ad agency, one its job it is to develop a source of names from which the various companies can make selections, depending upon the purpose of each new item. Or does each one have a linguistics specialist on the payroll.

Directly in front of our patio is an interesting tree, one of which I don’t know the name but which I realize is a representation of my life. I do realize, however, that every tree is a ‘Tree of Life’ and is depicted as such by many writers and artists. As I sit here and examine ‘my’ tree I can create a scenario which parallels my life.