There were 750 words here a moment ago but they are gone because I couldn’t stomach publishing them.
Can’t say why, not particularly certain and it probably doesn’t matter.
Been thinking a bit about public displays of emotion and how some have said I ought to be more stoic and others complain I am too quiet.
Don’t particularly care about their opinions other than I consider for a moment what my actions teach my children.
Hopefully it will be both useful and helpful.
Been thinking about the Odyssey and remembering how Achilles dragged Hector’s body. I think it was in both rage and grief.
Achilles, a man who was a legendary warrior. I have vague memories of reading about him weeping, not sure if it is accurate or not and at the moment I don’t care.
I am not the guy who breaks down crying or who gets choked up easily. Not judging those who do, maybe I would get over stuff faster if I did.
Some of what irritates me now is how illogical and irrational some of what I am feeling is and yet, feelings aren’t based upon logic or reason.
It is a working vacation for me which is to say it is not exactly a vacation.
I am handling what is given to me and working hard to juggle multiple responsibilities. There are moments where I want to take the backpack off and say it is too heavy.
Lay it down wherever I may be and walk away from it because it feels like it is too much.
It is too much and it is too heavy.
I keep hearing dad tell me to have a good life and I keep thinking about how I always figured I wouldn’t have to say goodbye until I was in my late sixties or seventies.
Even though his health hadn’t been good for years it seemed like he would keep going because he just did.
It is part of why I keep carrying this backpack. If he could do it there is no reason why I can’t.
Sometimes I think about some conversations where he told me it was too bad grandpa wasn’t around because he would know better what to do and how to handle some situations.
It is particularly revealing because dad was pretty stoic and likely to remind you to do your best.
Suggesting that grandpa might have known better in some situations strikes me as being exceptionally honest.
That is not to say dad was dishonest because I don’t think he was. But sometimes the way he helped keep us going was to smile and say keep moving.
Even when he wasn’t certain that we could or would, he would try to be strong so we would too.
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Sometimes it is hard writing these words upon a page because I know I am providing a picture of dad to those who didn’t know him and I want it to be the right one.
That doesn’t mean I want to white wash who he was because he was just a man. He had his faults as we all do.
But he had ample examples of positive traits and things that were praiseworthy.
And he was the only father I get, so of course I am going to want you to get a sense why that was special.
There is more to say and more to share but no time to do it now.
Can’t tell you how desperately I miss having my own place in LA and how crazy some people make me.
Can’t tell you this is a particularly bad day to argue, debate and or dispute reality with me because under normal circumstances I might cut your throat and I haven’t the patience that comes with normal circumstances.
So break time is over and it is time to focus on reality.
The quiet is so very loud.
