MERCY’s MiDaS ToUcH 1

As the great Muse scooped lines upon lines into my mental cavity and with a gleeful glissando, I humbly chewed precepts upon precepts, once again face-to-face with this popular, yet profound story.

My Muse’s name is Mercy.

Mercy has two sons, Kaycee – the elder and Tracy – the younger. 14 days and 20 hrs ago, Tracey turned 18. Jazz music from the stable of Kirk Whalum and Yanni exchanged pleasantries with every air that blew in the home that day. It was an open day of multiple purchases for all the supermarkets along the street. Jollof rice struggled endlessly with fried rice, while Maltina and chilled water casted lots to know who gets the tumbler. My hollow cheek accentuated my air-borne smile as I watched this drama.

Tracey, on his 18th birthday definitely had a great day. As the flashes of this birthday kept Tracey half-awake almost every night, he told himself, so my parents are this riiiccchh? So why do they stop me from getting all I ever wanted? Oh my gut, gut, I have been cheated and rated so small. Okay, enough of this overwhelming fuzz and cuzz, Daddy must hear me out tomorrow morning, for gun’s sake, I am now 6 in 3 places, 18.

As Mercy came out of the master bedroom the following morning, he had a long night strategizing a 300-year plan of investments. His dawn lit up with the unmistaken figure of Tracy before him, oh my dear* treasure, come over onto the sofa and feel my warmth. Tracy’s mind at this time was a busy football pitch, his tongue and teeth took the conversation floor and said, ‘Dad, thank you so much for your care and love thus far, but sir, give me the portion of wealth that falls unto me now!’
Mercy continued, ‘Tracy, don’t be kidding, remember, you are now 18 and in fact I am still alive and won’t think of divorcing your mother nor disowning you, why then do you script your voice into my unwritten will?’

180 minutes countdown begins…tick, tock, tick, tock…

Mercy stopped the minute hand on 37 and said, ‘okay, okay, Tracey, you have it; the portion right here is for Kaycee, your brother, and that portion for you. Take it; it is all yours now.’
Tracey, in exuberant ecstasy, got his visa and air ticket so fast, buzzed all his friends a goodbye and gathered all the portions together…zoomed off to a distant country.

He definitely didn’t know about having a personal statement of purpose, setting goals, having baselines, changing little into megabucks and investing for all stages of life (below 30, 30+, heading towards 50 and retirement). He didn’t understand that the race is not always to the swift, or the battle to the strong, or satisfaction to the wise, nor riches to the smart, nor grace to the learned. Tracey forgot that as long as his bejeweled father lived, his father’s wealth will become more and more and that could be tantamount to him getting a better share of portion the days ahead.

Mercy began to intentionally see the good side of Tracy’s request for an independent life, but why hasn’t Tracey gotten in touch with any of us since the past 30weeks? Has he soon forgotten the interdependent and synergistic system that works in this family? In fact, even the user manual for his portion is still here with me, what will have become a candle without a wick and a wick without the light? Anyway, I am certain that one day, as a bolt in the blue, I will see Tracy’s feet greet my foot mats and his phalanges will turn my door handle again.

Watchout for Part 2 on how Tracey solved the ‘schrodinger equation’ of life.

Keep CLIMB (Changing Little Into MegaBucks) Alive.
Cheers.

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One thought on “MERCY’s MiDaS ToUcH 1

  1. hmmm,I believe for Tracy d mercy hand is still wide open at the end of the line,i pray he is fortunate to be embraced in that hand.God blesd ur wisdom,mre grace dear

    Like

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