Got Kathy’s Song playing on the headphones cuz some of these lyrics jump out at me and I feel like I might try to process them.
It starts with this
And a song I was writing is left undone
I don’t know why I spend my time
Writing songs I can’t believe
With words that tear and strain to rhyme
And leads over here:
And so you see, I have come to doubt
All that I once held as true;
I stand alone without beliefs.
The only truth I know is you.”
My head hurts and I can’t decide if the headache is worse than the stinging from the 150 places I sliced it open, not one of them intentional.
It started when I decided to use a safety razor to clean it up. Pulled out the box with the four razors and the hundred blades dad never got to.
The one reminds me of how he taught me to shave when I was about five or so. I can see him take the blade out and feel his hands lathering my face.
I can see him show me how to do it and hear myself ask when I’ll have hair on my face like he does. A thousand years later I have plenty and it is clear I have forgotten how sharp a real blade is.
Except I don’t care, I am gentle and figure the nicks are part of a teaching moment for myself.
It probably was made worse when I stuck my head under the sink to fix the garbage disposal and banged it on the underside of the cabinet.
Hit it hard enough that I know I can still take a hell of a shot, guess I am lucky I didn’t knock myself out.
Still thinking about the song and why those lyrics are floating through my head. Got a few ideas that I might play back and forth before I drift off to sleep.
The bed calls because it is a work night, but I am not particularly tired now so I am reluctant to go to sleep.
In a moment the younger Mr. Wilner will ask me how long I intend to stay up and he might inquire again how I can fall asleep so damn quickly.
His mother says I am out before my head hits the pillow and she is probably right.
A couple years ago the doc said that is a sign of sleep apnea and I laughed because I have had this skill my entire life.
That included the says in which I was nothing but muscle and the times after in which the muscle has been joined by some almost middle aged mass.
So when he asks if there are any tricks I tell him I am pretty good at shutting down the brain long enough to check out.
“How do you do it Dad?”
“I look myself in the eye and say it is bed time.”
He rolls his eyes and I tell him that I am mimicking grandpa and tell him I’ll explain more on that later.
“I tell my personal and professional life to go away and I picture things that are symbols of shutting down. In the hard moments I might say you destroyed me today, but tomorrow I’ll be back. Or not today, you aren’t winning. Not today.”
He cocks his head and I tell him we have to figure out what works for us as individuals.
“I have been to hell more than once. Done it as a father. Done it as a person. Been there because of work and because of women. I always get back up. Always because there are no other options. You do too.
Don’t forget that and don’t forget that being able to take enormous amounts of pain doesn’t mean you should. Sometimes you have to let that anchor drop or it will do huge amounts of damage to you. Learn from me and learn from your grandfather.”
You can’t screw and old head on young shoulders and you can’t replace life experience no matter how much you want to.
Got a Monday coming that I have to get ready to do battle with so it is time to grab some Ibuprofen to take the edge off and respond to an email or two while thinking about nothing important at all.
Been a hell of a week and it is only Sunday. 🙂