Showing posts with label Canton. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Canton. Show all posts

Saturday, February 6, 2021

Life and Death: The Only Two Facts of Life You can Count on

We're either engaged in living, or
we're engaged in dying.  Which is it for you? 

Recently I suffered the terrible loss of a close and dear friend: Cristeen Negulis Mangeris.
Cris and I went together from 5th grade through 7th. She was a happy-go-lucky girl who never quite grew old in her mind. Well, I will miss talking with her, beit on the phone, even a few days before her assumed COVID death (we'll talk about this another time).


As close as Cris and I were, I'm not as bummed out  as many may have thought I should be. Perhaps I hold my despair in better than most, or  better yet, maybe I see her death as a ticket home. I've come to understand that the only way to live is to die, and so Cristeen has found her life, wherever that may be. So I'm actually glad for her, that she was finally able to cash that ticket on one of many trains that promise to carry us back home--those of us who actually come here from elsewhere. Yes, I'm one of those people...

Those of us who come here from afar, we have work to do in the form of specific places,  people, and situations to care for. The Lord, in His most excellent Word, tells us that he knew us before he laid one plank of this world. With regards to the Lamb's Book of Life, He said that He placed our names in that Book before the beginning of this time. 

Cris worked in healthcare as an office manager with a large nursing facility. She worked there  for a very long t ime. Besides doing her regular duties as a manager, Cris' job was to encourage residents in the home by speaking to them  prior to death. She did her job well, in fact. She told them about God, about His Son, Jesus, the Christ. She cried over many of resident who died almost in her arms. 

I'm not afraid to die because starting at an early age, I began  having OBE's (also called Astral Projection), which  put me squarely on the other side of this life. Most of my close friends have no idea that I've had this ability for so long, but as a younger man, I was more concerned about public opinion. Now, the truth means more to me than adverse public sediment. 

What I'm trying to say is, there is life outside the body. I know, I've experienced it hundreds of times over my life.  If you personally don't believe it, that's your personal choice. But the choice you make will not alter the facts--the truth. 

In Conclusion


Here's my view on things, having my feet firmly planted on the ground: "You're either engaged in living, or you're engaged in dying." 

There is one book in particular, in addition to the Holy Christian Bible (download free copy), that I recommend you read if you hold any interest in this subject matter at all: The Tibetan Book of the Dead (free download). I also recommend you read the Bhagavad Gita (free copy with audio recitation). 

If  you have a question about one thing or another, I invite you to comment on this blog post, or send me an email: 



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Copyright©2021/Allan B. Colombo
www.alcolombo.us / blogger@tpromo.com
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Monday, July 6, 2020

Cecil Morris: A Forgotten, Now Remembered Man of the Past

Everyone, no matter how disrespected they may be,
deserves a final going away party.

image of a penny with 'In God We Trust' I'm listening to an audio book called "Wood Beyond the World," by William Morris, and a good book it is. Published by Kelmscott Press in 1894, it is one of the very first novels intended to join the supernatural with an imaginary world. As you can well imagine, it's written in an older rendition of the English
language, but nevertheless, it's extremely enjoyable.

When I added this book to my Reading List, I noted the author's last name, "Morris," which led me by association to a fond remembrance of a small, seemingly unimportant man named Cecil who lived, worked, and died in my hometown. He was a barber whom I spent a good bit of time with in his shop as a young boy.

As a young'in, my parents made sure my hair was cut on a regular basis. Cecil could tell you when you were in last, as well as the type of haircut you received. At some point he began to charge based on how long it was since your last visit. Heaven knows why, when other barbers would fain to do so.

As I was growing up, after graduation, I stopped going in to get my hairs cut, as I had hair down to my shoulders (and sometimes beyond). One day, on the way to work after electronics school, I stopped to get a trim. This was probably 1970 or 1971. There were his regular following sitting in the shop chatting when he broke out in a cold sweat, calling me a long-haired freak--me, the kid that use to idolize him, sitting in the shop and chitchatting with him, much like these other men!

Needless to say, I was taken aback. When we were done, he asked for $25! His haircuts at the time were $5 or $6.

Now, Only a Fleeting Memory

I didn't go back to Cecil for a long time after that. When I did, I was married with two little girls and it was probably 1985. I was a Mason Shoe's dealer as was Cecil, so we had a lot to chat about, other than catching up on the 15 years that had passed between.

I went to Cecil for some time after that, then I moved to Chicago where to took an associate editor's position with a national magazine. I did not see Cecil after that, so I have no idea whatever happened to him.

I decided to share all of this with you because anyone who had had an impact on your life should be recognized.

When I think back to Cecil and his family, who lived in the same neighborhood where I was, I remember that neither of his sons or his wife seemed to pay attention to him, be it out and about or in church. In time, they got a divorce and the sons went on their way, not looking back, or so it seems to me. I agonized for Cecil as I could tell that all of this disturbed him greatly, or at least I believed so.

Allow me to say that Cecil was so unimportant that when I ran a search in the local newspaper's obituary section using every conceivable keywords, he did not show up. In other words, it appears that no one took the time or paid the price to pay their last respects to his sordid life.

Conclusion
I pray that when I depart this place for my rightful home, that someone will care enough about me to attend to even a small paragraph in my local newspaper that celebrates my own meager life and subsequent.

Al Colombo


For the serious researcher:
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Copyright©2020/Allan B. Colombo
www.alcolombo.us / blogger@tpromo.com
(Permission is given to republish blog posts providing
my contact information and copyright notice are included.)

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