Hopkins, MN
This seems like a good time to reflect on our blessings. And remember they can be lost is a minute.
From Beester, the man who claimed it isn't real pinball unless it's reel pinball.
...a wave of inner peace, never experienced previously and not until yesterday, swept across my soul as I surveyed my "little world", that night in the summer of 1979.
My beloved Katie, to me, unquestionably our maker's finest creation, manipulating a silver ball on a machine that seemed to dwarf her, which she insisted we buy on our meager newlywed income. That alluring glow of the lighted backglass, that alluring glow of happiness on my beloved Katie's face... EVERYTHING was right with the world, that night in the summer of 1979...
...a wave of grief, never experienced previously, swept across my soul as I surveyed my "crumbling world", that night in the summer of 1986.
My beloved Katie, to me, unquestionably our maker's finest creation, trying to manipulate a silver ball on that same machine that always dwarfed her, herself "propped up" by a makeshift "gizmo", not only majestically battling the "high score demons", but bravely fighting off the silent killer racking her body. My beloved Katie's last game was on that night, in the summer of 1986. She GOT the high score! (She knew, I think, that her best friend, this crazy guy that tried everything to hide the grief in his eyes, this man who said "I DO" and who tried to be every bit as strong as she, was periodically manually advancing the
100,000 points unit.
...a wave of inner peace, yesterday, swept across my soul as I surveyed my "world".
My beloved Kathy, to me, unquestionably her mother's finest creation, manipulating a silver ball on a machine that dwarfs her, smiling and snickering, and looking every bit like my beloved Katie.
My beloved Katie lives on, through the unbreakable high score, through one of the many pride's of my life, our daughter, and through a woodrail pinball game called Sittin' Pretty, which has a magical power to transport me back to that night in 1979, when all seemed right with the world.
Beester
