Several of you have written and or called to ask how my father is doing and I am grateful for your kind thoughts and words.
Not everyone is willing to reach out, but that is probably a good thing because it would be overload for me as I can’t spend all day talking about what I think of the treatment and or what I expect to have happen.
You can’t hold your breath or maintain a breakneck pace for extended periods without paying a price for such things.
N0r can you talk about such things without eventually asking yourself what would happen if you encountered terminal illness within the next 26 years.
If you’re a contemporary or older that is an eye opening thought–the end used to be so far away it was nothing but a fictional account of something that might happen…one day.
And then one day you wonder what happens if you really are talking about 26 years left in your candle.
We’re Just Friends Said The Heel To The Sole
A Millenial tells me I need to move on and not provide my opinion about a particular topic and is surprised when I refuse to just go away.
I make the usual cracks about participation trophies, overly entitled children and other snappy remarks for the logical reason of just because.
But unlike other older people I don’t mention that I have shirts, shoes or underwear that is older than said Millenial.
Not because it didn’t occur to me but because I get lost in thought about what things I hold onto and drag along with me.
Is there a benefit to keeping old clothes and or old memories as we go along our way. Would it be better to give it all away or to pare things down until it is a much emptier closet.
Or is it smarter to reframe how we look at such things and refocus our approach.
****
An old friend called to tell me I am a giant pain-in-the-ass and suggested I intimidate some people because I don’t suffer fools.
I laughed and asked if they received the poll results from Rasmussen because I question everything those guys put out.
“Life In My Little Town is different and I see the world differently than you do.”
We exchanged a few more words and proved I am not the only person approaching middle age to ask questions about what comes next.
“Your kids are older than mine, have you thought about what you’ll do when they are out?”
“I have some ideas but sometimes it is hard to imagine. Then again they have reached a place where they want me to be on call but not around all the time. It is reassuring and horrifying.”
They mumbled a few words about how they can’t wait until their young kids reach that place. ‘
“I am the obnoxious guy who says it sounds good to you, but you don’t understand how significant that change is. It feels good but they bruise you a bit when they wonder why you can’t just leave them alone.”
Soul Mates With Sole
Something about this song fits the mood and the idea I want get across but am not sure if I do or will.
I know the scars they speak of and carry them all but even if you saw me in a clearing you wouldn’t see them.
Sometimes we swear to leave but never do for reasons that are both unknowable and obvious to everyone else and us.
Maybe I ought to be like Art and tell you All I Know but the truth is I like the dream they had much better because it fits my personal mythology.
It is the circle placed inside the circle instead of the circle inside the square. Not that the circle doesn’t fit inside but there are empty spaces that are never filled.
****
The first time I wondered what would happen if my own hourglass had 26 years left of sand in it I wondered if there was a particular person or entity responsible for that.
I figured if I could identify them it might be easy to change things by pulling my own “Right Turn Clyde.”
If I couldn’t do it I could always find my own monkey and provide instruction to them, assuming they would listen, let alone submit.
You may say my insouciant approach is in contradiction to the seriousness this conversation requires and I would nod my head.
I hear the tick-tock of the clock and am very aware of the shortening of the leash that tethers us to this marble.
There is an active and well thought out internal debate going on inside my melon, but sometimes the only way to process and work through it all is to remind myself that life is absurd.
It is a silly joke and if you don’t learn to laugh during the good and the bad you’ll go crazy or in some cases…crazier.
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