Pancakes

 When Thursday turns to Friday 

See below.

“He sounds like a scold,” Dr. Feight said. He was talking about Stephen. (See here.)

     “He is rather,” I said.

     “Is he ‘arrogant’?” I am putting arrogant in quotes because Dr. Feight was quoting me. We had been talking about arrogance in our previous session. Whatever the Sikh Meher Babu, or any of us, might wish, arrogance cannot be conquered - it cannot even be countered - by humility. (See the same place.) Arrogance loves humility, which it also sees it as weak and properly so: Before Arrogance every knee should bow, every throat close up, and every tongue cleave to the roof of its mouth.

     “I don’t know if he is arrogant,” I said (meaning Stephen). “But his Boss is.” (I meant God.)

     “But not Jesus,” Dr. Feight said. He knows that while I’ve lost my faith in God, I still love Jesus.

“You’re mighty chatty today,” I said because usually we can get through an entire session and he’ll have said no more than, “Mmmm.”

     “Mmmm,” he said now.

     “I’m not saying to stop talking,” I said.

     “I did have one more question,” Dr. Feight said. “Jesus the Samaritan?” Another thing I mentioned in the last session.

“Do you ever read my blog?” I asked.

     “I have,” he said, “but I try not to. I shouldn’t.” Something to do with keeping our conversations within the room we were in.

     “I put something up about it yesterday,” I said. And I gave him the capsule version of the Samaritan Jesus that’s here.

     “Mmmm,” he said.

Uncle Albert was asleep when I opened the waiting room door. A copy of Les Inrockuptibles, one of the periodicals Dr. Feight subscribes to just for Uncle A (because he comes with me to almost every session) was on the floor by his feet. I picked it up, put it back on the shelf, shook Uncle Albert awake.

     He’s beginning to have trouble with Dr. Feight’s stairs, so I helped him up them and then into the car. I asked him if he wanted to go out today - for a change. Usually, we go back to the house, and I fix lunch; but I didn’t have anything in mind, I wasn’t sure I could bring anything to mind. But, “No,” he didn’t want to go out.

     So, I made pancakes. I had a mix. All you have to do is add water.

I asked Uncle Albert if he had read what I wrote yesterday. “You know you made pancakes on Tuesday,” Uncle Albert said.

     “You don’t remember, do you?” he asked.

     I didn’t, but I said, “Oh? Yeah.”

     He said he had read what I’d written about Jesus the Samaritan. “I try to keep up,” he said. “Are you sure you have the Greek right?” He took a bite of oatmeal, chewed it slowly, swallowed. I shook my head. I don’t really know Greek, just what I’ve learned from reading grammars.

     “You live in an odd world,” Uncle Albert said. “So many imaginary playmates.”

10.16.19

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 * For more on Dr. Feight, whom I’ve been seeing since January 2017, see here.