The Purple Heart
by James A. Porter
Posts
On The Eve Of Battle
Quietness is deafening now: It screams with anticipation and uncertainty. Drums the moment with heart pounding thunder. Yells the inner turmoil and confusion of fear. Rocking the trembling soul with uncontrolled vibrations, shivering every fiber with earth shaking tremors. Growling the upset stomach into volcanic eruptions -- spewing irrepressible excrements from eyes and bowels; “Dear Lord, I hope You are listening!” by James A. Porter
In Memory of Friends Who Died
A friend of mine died a few days ago; she was a teacher, a mom, a wonderful person. She was the most recent of umpteen friends I’ve lost over the years. Most of these friends died in combat or as a result of our inability to speak and listen to each other. Each was unique and special in his/her own way. I do not fear death. I understand it and respect it, for in my Christian thoughts, death is the rite of passage to Heaven. Yet, each death turns me into an emotional wreck with the feelings of sadness and lost beyond belief ― especially when my friends’ departures are sudden or unexpected. The abrupt impact of their deaths, always hit me like a “semi” ― smashing, splattering, and scattering my feelings along the path we’ve traveled on the journeys we took together. Months, years, and the rest of my life are needed to reassemble the shattered fragments of “w hat’s-left-of-my-life,” (or the pieces of me that I can find). I am never again the same. Pers...