“She’s a lesbian,” Tommy says. “And you used to watch her show all the time.”
“Oh! Rosie O’Donnell,” Mom says.
Another point for Tommy and Mom on catch-phrase. These are moments of family–sacred and divine–which we hold dear in our hearts.
Before leaving school, my roommates and I discussed what we would doing when we graduate.
“You should come a live in Ramona,” Wes says.
You only have to learn Wes’ name once; no one ever forgets him. His humor is as large as his body, and he has been a close friend since Freshman year.
“Yeah! We should all live together,” Ryan suggests. “I don’t want you guys to leave me, yet.”
Ryan is not easy to forget either. As Vice President of ASB, he has many important responsibilities and you can often see him walking around in his suit and tie.
“Yeah, that would be awesome,” I say.
But in the back of my mind are the children of Camden, NJ. I spent the summer, and I am sure God has put a calling on my life to get back there.
But I also am student of history. Recently I have begun studying The Wise Men (not the magi, but the six men who single-handedly created American foreign policy directions that would hold for most of the cold war). I don’t want all my friends to leave me, but I am comforted by the words of Walter Issacson and Evan Thomas:
“[The wise men] were six friends. Their lives had intertwined from childhood and schooldays, from their early careers on Wall Street and in government. Now they were destined to be at the forefront of a remarkable transformation of American policy. As World War II drew to a close, most of their fellow citizens wanted nothing more than to turn inward and, in Harriman’s words, “go to the movies and drink coke.” But by breeding and training, this handful of men and a few of their colleagues knew that America would have to assume the burden of a global role. Out of duty and desire, they heeded the call to public service.”
Our lives, whether we like it or not, are incredibly intertwined.
“What would you do,” Wes said laughingly about a month ago, “If we ended up being professors or pastors together someday.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised,” I say. “I wouldn’t be surprised at all.”
In the present moment, my family sits outside in the living room playing catch-phrase.
“It is a thing that swims in the ocean,” Tommy says.
“A fish,” Brian says.
“Yes, and he was the prophet that got swallowed by it,” Tommy says.
Yes. A prophet indeed.