Friday, October 22, 2010

Dementia

I was afraid to tell my father about the death of my brother, because I am afraid that he will forget. And then I'll have to tell him again. I talked to him today, and I think he has indeed forgotten about it. Now see, this is part of what informs my theology. Because really, what kind of God would allow almost 40 years of debilitating brain damage, then take away a son, and then let my dad have to find out over and over again?

Certainly not my God, but perhaps the God of my childhood.

And while someone is helping me to understand theodicy, perhaps they can explain why my 6 year old son is obsessed with this song, which he has heard perhaps twice, before I really paid attention to the lyrics.

3 comments:

Paul Oakley said...

Okay, I can understand a child liking the repetitive, rhythmic, electronic qualities of that piece. What I can't understand is the lyrics. I googled 'em, read 'em, and still don't have a clue. What language is it in?

awandersee said...

It's the wicked beat...I would be surprised if the 6 year old is paying any attention to the lyrics...

Kelly KH said...

Paul. Yes.

Andrea, very true! Just a little cringe worthy in the grocery store ;)