Funeral For Words

As we gather here today to mourn the passing of words, may this also be a celebration of the joy words have brought to souls over the ages.

Countless poets, authors and song writers have employed words to reach humans' minds, souls and spirits. And the beneficiaries of those words have savored them, rolling them over their taste buds as they envisioned dreams they never dared to dream before encountering these delectable words.

Millions have slipped words of comfort in their Bibles – words inscribed by fountain pens on sheets of linen, or on greeting cards written with exquisite fonts and expressions too beautiful to describe, at least not without words.

Grandchildren and Great-Grandchildren have marveled at the luxurious penmanship of their ancestors as they read their family histories replete with anecdotal memories. Lovers down through history have treasured letters and notes of affection and returned to them when their hearts were breaking.

When did the demise of words begin? Perhaps it was with the blasphemous philosophy that a picture was worth a thousand words. Why utilize words which required spelling when pictures could be understood even by the illiterate? We began to notice traffic signs with indiscernible graphics instead of words.

Later, with the blessing of the internet, we began to notice a decline in the sending and receiving of paper greeting cards with personal notes jotted in them. Why not just send an eCard? No stamps required; no trip to the post office necessary; no envelopes to lick; and, most of all, far less time and effort required. And if the receiver never received them, oh well. We certainly did our part!

But I think we would all agree that the biggest tragedy of all came with instant messaging and texting. Simple three-lettered words were replaced by one letter! Sacrilege! "I'll See you later" became cul. "I’ll be right back" became brb. "Parent looking over my shoulder" became pos. And "I'm rolling on the floor in laughter" became rofl.

Diseases were not immune to the languid minds in our society. Impossible to ignore if one watches television for more than fifteen minutes are ads for RLS, PAD, PMS, PMDD, ADD, ADHD, BPD, and the hits keep coming.

Is it possible we could end up like the cave people before us who relied on grunting and other repugnant bodily functions to communicate?

All of us attending this funeral are mourners of words lost to us as language de-evolved. We must take a stand here today, midst these bouquets of words: we will find a way to bring back real words – to make them desirable to the masses!

Stand and proudly pronounce: LLW! WLF! BBW!

(c) 2007-2008 April Lorier

Read more

Sphere: Related Content

Not Oprah's Secret! Grandma's Secret for Depression!

Oprah's "Secret", my grandmother didn't know; but Grandma knew the secret to keeping her mind straight and her heart full of God's peace.

She had five grown children and numerous grandchildren, some of whom she was raising. She worked as a cleaning lady for the President of the local bank, both for the bank and for his home. Even with her demanding husband she served the ladies in her local church. There were problems beyond her control every day, and yet there were always warm baked goods on her table and healthy meals served.

I learned her secret when I was just a child. She was constantly humming or half-singing some old hymn as she was down on her knees scrubbing the already-clean floors. No matter what life threw at her, Grandma got busy doing the next thing. She knew what she was responsible for, and she attacked it like there was no tomorrow. (Do I have to say her house was always spotless, her laundry fresh and clean, and her appearance was impeccable?)

Later I learned patients in mental hospitals are given one small task per day to accomplish: today clean out that small drawer and organize it. Tomorrow it could be a larger drawer, but whenever the “next thing” is accomplished the patient’s confidence is boosted and mental clarity improves immediately.

There are times when life gets too confusing – too painful to allow one to even consider what can or should be done. It is during these critical times that doing the next thing is so critical. It’s just too easy to become mentally, emotionally, and then physically paralyzed by life – especially if one has survived domestic abuse in the past.

Nothing ever disappears from our subconscious minds – it creeps out when we sleep, or an image (or sound) immediately transports us back to the painful times. That's why we must consciously move!

I have a friend who has known me forever, and she always says, “Girl, get out of your chair and do something – anything that requires no thought. Always, if I heed her advice, it breaks the paralysis! There’s something about doing “mindless work” (eg: scrubbing down the kitchen) that makes me feel I have some personal power, and I’m OK from that point.

Today don’t let anything paralyze you. If you’re a Christian, give the memory to God, then do your part – get up and do the next thing. It’s Grandma’s Secret for depression!

(c) 2007 April Lorier

Read more

Sphere: Related Content