The first forty years of our life give the text, the next thirty furnish the commentary upon it, which enables us rightly to understand the true meaning and connection of the text with its morals and its beauties. (Arthur Schopenhauer-German Philosopher)
Seven decades, of unconditional love, love lost, love found…time to discover myself and truly make certain my closet of doubt and dubious dreaded demons was cleaned out and not only shut but burned to the ground. Seven decades, where growing up things were black or white, not just the citizens of this great nation, but the consideration of purpose, IKE, built the freeway systems, so we would understand east from west, north from south…the education system in Pittsburgh, was intent on letting the smart kids know they were better and identified them as the 1’s, followed by the less smart kids, known as the 2’s and of course the dumb kids known as 3’s…Seven decades, from which the media informed us that it was better to be dead than red, love America or leave it, this is your brain on drugs…the suburbs were really segregated sanctuaries keeping the blacks, the Jews and the Catholics away. Seven decades in which the youngest man ever to serve as president inspired hope, but was shot, a Reverend who had a dream had his personal dream taken from him, and the army shot American students at an American university.
Seven decades of hope, of honor, of promise and of purpose…family, children, friends, inspiring others, being inspired…understanding the meaning of empathy and sympathy, not by reading about them in the dictionary but by living their values in real-time. Seven decades of finding that what others might think of you, oftentimes is not about you at all, but about how they see themselves…learning to accept that hypocrisy is never hypothetical, that doublespeak, is a language insecure people babble about, that truth can be constrained but like a perennial plant under the mirk and mud of winter storms, frost and snow, blooms and blossoms and its fragrance smothers the slime and smut, the smog and sinister odor of lies and fiction.
Seven decades…I remember so many I have loved, and lost, so many I learned to call friends and some who were nothing but enemies, shadow figures…Seven decades, and here I am to continue telling my version of MY story, My way… “It was nature that created this body, it was nurture which molded this soul, it was nothing less than a miracle and nothing more than a mere moment in time, but all along it was and is my life.”-Gerry Buncher American, /wannabe published author…but, a loved husband, father, brother, uncle, and friend. Thanks to everyone who has wished me well and has been a positive part of my life!
