IAMFRITZ.com

The Baker's Son

Oh, I'll finish this one some day...

Of Bagels and Men

Harold sat aghast at the thought of someone defeating his favorite football team. Unfortunately, this happened quite often, and he had just watched it happen again.

The game had ended about two minutes ago, and the post-game commercials were now making a valiant attempt to sucker out his money and his brains. The attempts, however, were in vain. He switched channels hoping

there might be something else on, but knowing there wasn’t.

“Oh well,” he grunted as he stood up and pressed the on/off buttonm on the T.V.

It was then that it happened, it clicked in his mind. A strange sensation that sent shivers down his spine.

It was a mission whose time had come. A mission he set out upon every night with a salivacious slight of hand. A meal that wasn’t quite a meal, not as much, yet more.

Approaching the counter, his eyes dilated with a synchronicity known to no other. Yet, the small finger on his left hand twitched slightly as he groaned in disappointment. The countertop revealed a blank message that stated Howard blankly in the face.

They weren’t there.

His pulse quickened. A salty drop of sweat found itself unwelcome in Howard’s right eye, and he realized his shirt was sticking to his shoulders. His maddening gaze traversed the countertrop again and again in disbelief.

His mouth was becoming dry and he slid his tongue across his sticky gums. The little finger twitched again, except more noticeably this time. Where could they be?

He spun sharply on his left heel. His sight locked onto the refrigerator, lunging desperately for the stainless steel handle. He swung the door open like a man insane. Several jars of salad dressing hurled themselves to the floor, shattering in a puddle of glass covering a wide area of the kitchen tile.

He looked inside.

Ketchup? No, he wouldn’t need that. His hand gripped it and hurled it across the room over his shoulder.

Mustard? The ketchup bottle smashed in the sink taking two plates with it.

No, not mustard. It followed the ketchup, destroying another plate, but suffering no damage itself.

Jelly! Yes! He would need the jelly. Now if only he could find it.

He searched on, spilling the milk and following suit with the orange juice. Several other useless items were cast aside, not having the slightest noption of the mess now scattered throughout the kitchen. His shoes squeaked on the milk and orange juice misture se he kneeled down to search the fruit chelf. He tossed the lettuce aside. Heads will roll, he remembered his sister quipping.

Stop! Stop! An unseen voice screamed in his ears, it’s obviously not in the refrigerator. Check the freezer.

A hideous grin sprouted from his lips, spreading across shis face. Yes, that’s where they were. In the freezer.

He stood upright slowly, his eyes sizzling madly. His shaking hand probed its way up the side on the refrigerator.

After what seemed an eternity, his fingers grasped the silver handle. With sweat now pouring from his eyebrows, he used his free hand to relieve his eyes of the perspiration which swamped his vision. His bangs stuck, plastered to his forehead and only added to the tension Howard was experiencing.

The freezer door swung open and a gush of freezing cold air blasted Howard in the face, calming him slightly. He thrust his other hand inward, oblivious to sight since the frosty air stung at the salted substance in his eyes. He moaned slightly from the pain, almost withdrew his hand, but then... then...

He found them. His fingers clutched the vellophane package, almost impaling it with his fingernails. Taking it out slowly, he ignored the searing pain of his eyeballs and read the label. It read:

Home-Stlye Bagels.

Fritz Gunter, 1985

The Baby

A chubby face rises over the sheets
Like the lazy sun rising over the distant hills

His gaze from yet unopened eyes
Show his commitment to conquer the things of the day

Like the Sun and his beams
Know they will drive away the dark and the cold of twilight's cold blanket

His smile, like the Sun's beams
Warm me, renewing the promise they both made to me so long ago

The Sun

With the morning rise
The Sun declares His domain
As He rolls across the Earth, content

That all he shines
Upon is his- To brighten, enlighten
To show the way and bring hope

And after he's done
He rolls away, satisfied he has been
Over where has been, for it is his, and he theirs.

On Death

Here is a letterl I sent to a lady who had lost a family member some time ago.

Connie-

I believe you WILL see your son again. I believe you WILL get through this. I believe if you HOPE, and have FAITH, you will recover.

(Please forgive me if this seems long, but I have a lot of experience on this topic, hence a lot to share about it. Do please read it all)

I too have lost several loved ones over the last few years, including my father, my grandmother, an aunt, and a dear friend. I know the pain you are feeling- a cutting ache that seems longer than your soul. But there are beliefs that help us go on. . .

I'll repeat the first one- we will all see our loved ones again. You cant avoid religious discussions here, and I won't pull out here. I believe that we will not only see our loved ones again, but we can be with them forever after this life. God would not instill in us the potential to love one another so deeply and wholly only to take it away from us, as if in some strange punishment.

Second, when you lose a loved one, the pain you feel is never as hard or difficult to bear as it was yesterday. People will not understand, maybe you can't share the grief with another (although its good if you can), but remember this thing- the pain gradually fades. But don't let it completely fade away- part of that pain is from the part of you your loved one took with him/her. And we need to be reminded how precious things are to not let them be taken away too casually. One day, you will go a day without tears for your son. You will still love and miss him, but the pain is always more bearable as time passes.

Third important point- when my Dad died, I was crushed. But I had friends close to me who could make me laugh. Not to excess, not like a drunken stooge, but they could, just for moments at a time, make me laugh about things. Distant things, unrelated things. The brief respites from my tearing grief were like buckets of ice water from heaven to a man lost in the Sahara. Make sure you laugh.

Fourth- remind yourself that everyone goes through this pain. But the species is continuing anyways because we can cope. We don't like to cope, but we can. Billions have felt your pain. Billions more will feel your pain. BE one of them.

Fifth point- actively feel your pain. Dont fight it, deny it, whatever. I tried that at my father's death and really only threw away 3 years of my life over the depression that came on from it. Your brain, your body, your SOUL needs to go through that pain. But there's a balance- dont indulge your pain. Just dont hide it from yourself. This guarantees the quickest and healthiest route, and you will wake up some tomorrow stronger than you thought you were.

Sixth point: if you need to get help, get it. You'll probably have to hunt around a little bit to find a good counselor or church leader who can help you with your particular needs, but do it. It's also a good way to sort out what you're feeling. Just do it.

Seventh point, and I leave it last for emphasis- God Loves You. He knows about pain. He knows about YOUR pain. Pray. Talk to Him. Ask him why, and listen for His voice. Reach out with your feelings to feel His comforting. He created us to feel as much pain as we could joy, if we choose it. But how we face death is as important as how we face life. Pain is not bad, or evil, and having it isnt a weakness. I think God caused us to hurt so much so we would be sure to cherish what we have more than we would if it didn't hurt when we lost it. Besides, we'll still see them again some day.

Well, I hope I've made some sense here for you Connie. I've read and thought and prayed and studied and talked a lot about this- because I had to, and it helped a lot whenever I did. Even if the talking went badly or awkwardly.

I'm not belittling your incredible loss- I know it. But you just choose to get through it, DECIDE you WILL, and you know what . . . you will. Take care.

Fritz Gunter