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Location:Texas, USA Naturalized US Citizen of Irish extract -   Fixed Wing and Helo trucker.Interests: "The Absurdity of Man". I am a proud supporter of Blarney, Nonsense, and Hooey. I enjoy being a chopper jockey, and trying to figure the world, people and belief systems out. I'm just not very good at it, so it keeps me real busy. I scribble, blog, run this website, mess with rental houses, ride motorbikes, and read as much as I can. I went solo 44 years ago, and I like to say I'm gonna get me a real job one day. When I grow up. ("but not just yet, Lord, not just yet") For my aviation scribbles see www.chopperstories.com.... enjoy! I wish you Peace in your Life. May you always walk with the sun on your face, and a breeze ruffling your hair. And may you cherish a quiet wonder for our awesome Universe. Life isn't always good. But it is always fascinating. Never quit.
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To my Big Brother - a letter


TO MY BIG BROTHER - A LETTER

9/5/2010


Hi Francis,


How goes my big brother? I reach out to you, in kindness, across Space and Time, and hold you dear in my heart.  I hold my arms around you, and comfort you.
I was absorbing some of your stories, and realizing that you are on a quest.
You are, in your own clumsy way, a true Seeker. Although you are fumbling and groping,  I sense the direction that you are feeling for...

I have walked with you up the "Sugarloaf Mountain".  I too have gazed out over Ireland, and listened to the wind of the ages, brushing lightly around me. I too have shaded my eyes against the sun, closed my eyelids, and yet sensed the light reaching out to me.
Another story I liked is "The Road of Light". I related to it, and I can only wish I had enjoyed the experience you describe. How I would have loved to have had the chance to become a helicopter pilot! How I would have loved to have done a fraction of the things you have done! Traveled to the places you have seen, and met all the people you have met!
Another one I liked was "Starry, starry night". I liked the music, and I liked the way you honestly described your tiny mind probing the Immensity of the Universe. You are wise to ponder your own insignificance. For in humility, perhaps, even you will find the first stage of learning. Fly, my brother, fly in your helicopter, look out over this strange world, and relate your stories to us, with gentleness and caring.
I can see myself, flying in that strange contraption, soaring out over the waves. Following that Road of Light, following those  stars you pondered.  How I would have enjoyed that! To have been with you maybe, chatting together, looking out over the vast Pacific Ocean. Sailing over the endless waves, alone with you. How I would have been so happy to sit beside you, and listen to the whirrings of your confused mind.
You have been tremendously lucky, you will forgive me for saying.

You have had so much, my big brother. So many opportunities to achieve perhaps some Good. So many opportunities to learn. So many opportunities to hug your brother, to exercise compassion and kindness. To use your talents, however you may so perceive them. To learn. To follow that same Road of Light, and to follow on the Path of Human Kindness. So why do you worry about such trifling things? You dwell so much on money and bills. You worry about your retirement. You worry about your mortgage. If only I had owned my own house! If only I had enjoyed the luxury of worrying about my retirement!
I longed, achingly, for less, far less. A hug, a cuddle, and to feel warm and secure in my mother's arms.

Think of me sometimes, my big brother. Look at my photo below, often, and remember me.
Never forget me, for that would break my heart.

Your little brother,


(unknown)









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This photo of a starving Sudanese child kneeling to his death as a wide eyed vulture waits in the background sent shivers through the international community when it was published in 1992. Captured by Kevin Carter, the photograph would go onto win the 1994 Pulitzer Prize. However, it seemed the images Carter documented would haunt him for years to come, leading to the photographers suicide a year later.  Leaving a note, the South African wrote, " I am haunted by the vivid memories of killings and corpses and anger and pain ... of starving or wounded children, of trigger-happy madmen, often police, of killer executioners."

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Last edited by Francis Meyrick on December 10, 2015, 8:49 pm
We little humans, hurtling through the Universe on our tiny, pale blue dot, will find few answers to Life's great mysteries. But we should at least find many of the questions. To write is to ask. To seek. To grope. With humility, and humor. Peace.
 
katie

The sight of that buzzard and that little child...oh my. o

Moggy,this is a nice piece...kinda reminda me of Jung and our preconscious mind...or of Casey in The Grapes of Wrath saying that we're all just a part of the whole thing.  Very nice story, although it kinda had me scared at first that you truly had a sibbling and something had happened to them.  It was almost a relief to get the meaning of the whole thing . . . until I saw that picture.  You're always so clever with finding just the right one to go with your story.

Very good write.


It is the function of art to renew our perception. What we are familiar with we cease to see. The writer shakes up the familiar scene, and, as if by magic, we see a new meaning in it. ~ Anais Nin ~
Posted on Thursday, September 9, 2010 at 22:49:29

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