Mr. Joyce Takes on the World

…A Time to be Born…A Time to Cook             It was on this day, one year ago, that my mother’s funeral happened. I read a eulogy that I’d written, and was the only one to do so.             I won’t recount that event here, as I’ve written about it before. Instead, I’m thinking about the strange parallels between that event, and today. For example, it rained the night before my mother’s funeral. It rained heavily last night. The morning started out cold, and then the day heated up. It did so again today. As I waited for some sign to emerge, I found it toward the end of my work day.             As I waited for public transport, I heard the growl of a motorcycle down the street. The stereo onboard that hog blasted one of Prince’s songs, Kiss . Mom would have liked that. If it had been Diamonds and Pearls ...

Interlude One: Reflection in Blue When I was still working with Julie, she once asked me, “What was the last happy memory you have?” There have been several, but they are often tainted by some form of heartache, so I reached for one from my childhood. I said to her, “I remember being eight years old, and seeing the moon at dusk. I was standing on a neighbor’s lawn, and my parents walked across the street to come get me. My parents and I went to the mall that night. I bought a Ghostbuster’s action figure (it was Peter Venkman!) Then we went home.” Julie smiled a little, and even laughed. She wondered why I chose that memory. I explained to her that it was because of the mood associated with it. The sky was a perfect shade of azure (a color word I often overuse in my writing). The moon looked as if it were made of chalk. The idea that I could see the moon in day time fascinated me as a child. It still does fascinate me. I can’t get over that something that symboliz...

This is the eulogy I delivered for my Mom. Her funeral was today, July 29th, 2016.  A wise man once said, “Dearly beloved, we are gathered to get through this thing we call life.” How does one summarize a life? I'm not sure. So I won't attempt to summarize sixty-nine years in only a few minutes. Instead, I will give some highlights from Mom's life. Her favorite books were Lonesome Dove , and The Thornbirds . She loved the music of The Bee-Gees, Hall and Oates, and Prince (hence the reference). She drank more tea than the entire population of Great Britain. Her favorite movies were The Deer Hunter , Gone With the Wind , and The Bishop's Wife . She loved Tom Selleck. Anything Tom Selleck. We used to watch Blue Bloods together, and the Jesse Stone movies.   And Mom had a fondness for knicknacks and any food that contained sugar—believe me. She could also cook a mean steak, and taught me the secret of great pork chops; which my vegetarian friends wi...

      My niece Miranda is blue-eyed, brown-haired, and about seven pounds (as of writing). She sleeps a lot, cries when needed, and then passes out again. She likes powdered formula, being held, and her binky. She’s adorable, and still has that new baby scent. I never would have guessed that I’d love someone at first sight. Or, that I’d love someone who belches like a trucker. We all have our quirks.  It’s been twenty odd years since I last held a baby. I thought I’d forget how to do it. But the second that her mother handed her to me, it all came back. Holding her was practically instinctual. Just as baby’s know how to smile and kiss without being taught. There are some things that are built into us, and cannot be excised; no matter how confusing the world becomes.   Miranda opened her azure eyes, and then yawned. I kissed her on the forehead, and then the hand. She cried soon after, but I didn’t mind. I knew that this was her way of reaching ou...