Families disintegrate. 

Parents die.  Children may or may not do their best to keep the ties close, but the geographic and emotional center is gone. 

It is the way of the world.

Sometimes, new geographic and emotional centers have been forming, even before the old ones passed away.  Children marry and have their own children.  For a while, the family expands.  Like a cell dividing, it separates but the molecule remains. 

Until death comes.

Life goes on as it must.  It has always been this way; it seems likely that it always will be. 

The Great Hand of Nature turns the kaleidoscope and shuffles the elements; new beauty arises. 

Yes, someone close to me is dying.  I am struggling to accept it.

Somebody sent me an email that warned me that muslin was out to get me, well not me in particular, us Americans.  Now hold on a minute, I thought to myself.

I know muslin’s not really nice material like silk or anything, but I can’t see that that’s any reason to intend the people of this country harm.  I suppose it could be upset that it never gets to go to the prom, or for that matter, get dressed up for any reason.  But really, I just find this hard to believe.  Muslin is such a nice, serviceable cloth; I’ve always liked it.  Some of it is really soft and comfortable.

The email said that muslin wanted to kill Christians who didn’t convert, and as a formerly Christian country that obviously isn’t converting fast enough, we should all be afraid. I tried to see a connection, but all I could come up with was this:  I don’t know about Protestants, but Catholic priests wear a lot of shiny satiny stuff when they get dressed up for church.  Muslin must think we’ve gotten too uppity.

Well, before I got too freaked out, I thought I’d do a little investigating, so I went to dictionary.com to see what I could find out about this new enemy of ours, and I discovered something interesting.  Way back when, muslin was actually a luxurious cloth.  It originated in a city called Mosul in northern Mesopotamia, which is now Iraq.  It used to mean cloth of silk and gold.   It got its more modern meaning, “everyday cotton fabric,” from the US back in 1872.

OK, that sheds a little light.  Maybe muslin is mad because the US didn’t recognize its true worth and value.  Maybe it feels belittled.  I feel kind of sorry for it. 

Now I don’t know what to do.  It’s a crazy world out there.  Maybe I’d better go check my closets.  I like cotton stuff, but there might be a shirt in there right now, plotting an attack.  

Hey, we were friends once.  Maybe I could put it on and we could go out for a drink—something that wouldn’t stain, of course.  I wouldn’t want to be totally insensitive.