Writings of the Mind and Heart of RW Doefer
Stay with me in reading this tongue-in-cheek post about the place of the color of one’s skin in today’s social world. There is a meaningful conclusion to my literary exploration in which we will deviate somewhat from the skin tone list of people who have a need to engage in such categorizations. The five basic skin colors from which I will venture are, not surprisingly, Black, White, Brown, Red and Yellow.
I can’t tell those of who have responded to my posts how much I appreciate your comments, especially as belated as my response has been. They have gone a long way toward bolstering my confidences in entering this endeavor. More are forthcoming, slowly but surely. Namaste.
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.
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.
