I tossed out on the Twitter that I had writer’s block. A writer friend of mine (who edited my book and I owe him dinner or something but not by ourselves because that would not be appropriate although we would laugh a lot) Brannon Golden had this suggestion on my Facebook page:
That’s the Resistance talking. Google “Grammy nominated songs 1987.” Which one was your favorite and why? How are you different today from that person, and why? Now go! Fight! Win! 🙂
So, I did. I found this:
Paul Simon’s “You Can Call Me Al”
Oh yeah. I had that entire song memorized in the 8th grade. So much so, that I wrote it all out in a spiral, would sing the whole thing any time it came on the radio and would sing it as a duet with my friend, Dorie. (I know, you pictured the fish.)
Ah, I LOVED that song. Just the other day it came on Pandora. I cranked it up and sang every word, just like I did when I was that scrawny 13 year old.
That was the kid who had just lost her grandparents in a plane crash that summer of 1986.
That was the kid who had watched her dad weep when crying was not a norm for him.
That was a little girl who had seen death and it was awful.
How am I different? Well, besides the obvious physical differences, I still hate death. I still hate to see my dad cry. But far from 13, I understand the legacy my grandparents left when that plane hit the ground.
They left a generation longing to be better people.
They left a young girl struggling to understand God and find his love in her pain.
They left a passion for God’s word and a love for teaching in that 13 year old baby heart.
They left a house that one day I pray is mine.
I would not be who I am had that plane made it safely to Dallas.
I’m closer to God because we’ve duked it out so many times.
My faith is greater than it ever was.
And sometimes for fun, I simply say, “I can call you Betty, and Betty when you call me you can call me Al.”