Marilynne Rudick: Live Like Sisyphus
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This morning, I managed to topple a plant my wife thought she had made topple-proof. You see, I’d done it before. “How’d you do that?” she asked. I didn’t know. These things happen in ways I cannot explain or even understand.
When I had almost refilled the pot, the plant fell over again, which made me angrier. “Damn it,” I said in a tone that reminded me of my Dad’s voice. My Dad lives on not only in me, but also in my sister Marilynne Rudick. Like our father, Marilynne refuses to let a disease define who she is. My sister lives as full a life as she can imagine despite her M.S. My Dad did the same with polio.
After refilling the pot the second time, I remembered my sister had just fallen yesterday. She broke her leg and needed surgery while traveling in Spain. I realized I had no business feeling sorry for myself. And I decided I could forgive Marilynne and her husband Bob if, for a brief instant, they felt the same.
Marilynne, at age 68, and Bob left for an extended vacation to learn Spanish extensively and explore the country. Before she left, Marilynne announced, “I’m feeling good. I can do this, and I want to do this.” Despite the fall, I know that Marilynne and Bob will pick themselves up, dust themselves off and continue their climb, like Sisyphus.
The story of Sisyphus comes from Greek mythology. He was punished for his self-aggrandizing craftiness and deceitfulness by being forced to roll an immense boulder up a hill for eternity, since the boulder would always roll back down. He had to repeat this chore forever.
Thank you, Marilynne and Bob. Like Marilynne, I try not to allow myself to be limited unnecessarily by whatever that comes my way. I try to keep the faith that someday I’ll reach the mountaintop. And like Bob, I wish to do embody character, responsibility, rectitude and dignity. I wish to exhibit a sense of what is right to my wife, my family and everyone I come in contact with.
Behind this good writer is a great editor; Mark Bloom. Learn more about Mark’s talents at
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Another Train: The Poozies
I know it’s hard When you get confused You can crown yourself with fear And you feel you cannot move You’re building worlds That don’t exist Imagination plays the worst tricks There’s another train There always is Maybe the next one is yours Get up and climb aboard.
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