Only a few remember how he tried to scare us by poking his head through a window and screaming “Here’s Johnny!”
That’s because they remember my grabbing him by the collar and dragging him halfway inside while yelling “Johnny shares a secret.”
Don’t ask what that was supposed to mean or why it worked out as it did because I don’t know, some things just happen.
It is like when someone says you are the love of their life and then leaves without explanation or how 20,390 kernels of popcorn pop but somehow seven don’t.
Shit happens and you just roll with it or make yourself crazy trying to unravel mysteries that aren’t understood by those who created them.
Life is filled with inconsistencies and confusion punctuated by moments that couldn’t be easier to understand.
Some people hate Ketchup but like tomato, go figure.
When my son was around eight he was almost accidentally trampled by a man who didn’t see him holding open a door.
It didn’t happen because I saw things unfolding and took three quick steps forward and got between the two.
I am not made for grace and can’t stop on a dime but I am not without any athletic gifts.
Sadly none of those include levitation or the ability to teleport so my shoulder caught the man in the chest and he went flying backwards.
That was around 13 or 14 years ago, long enough for me to have forgotten about it until last week.
The younger Mr. Wilner was waiting for me curbside outside of the airport terminal.
I pulled over, popped the hatch and he went to put his bag in the car. As he placed it inside I watched a sedan pull behind us and saw the driver creep closer and closer to us.
Something rubbed me the wrong way and I jumped out of the car with fire in my eyes and hustled to the back of the car.
There wasn’t a single car within 50 feet of the rear of the other car so I had no idea why he needed to be as close as he was to us.
I put myself in between the other guy and us and glared at him. He pulled within two feet of me and for a moment I wondered if was trying to antagonize me or just stupid.
Opted for stupid, turned and wheeled back towards the car thinking about how my grandfather had once told me it never ends.
“Your dad is 61 and I still worry, it never ends.”
Heading on 21 years of parenting I know first hand he was correct and that is ok.
We may have complete trust in our kids but it doesn’t mean there aren’t moments.
And He Carries The Reminders
Another blogger asked for general thoughts on writing and I said it is helpful to have a long memory and to be able to tap into what you felt.
It is not always ideal to be able to go back to the rougher and challenging moments but if you can and you’re brave enough to climb into the fire there is opportunity.
Opportunity to mine your pain for material that you can use to help describe a moment so that your reader can better understand and experience the scene you created.
I tried to do some of that here, though I am not certain how successful I was.
Truth is my writing hasn’t felt as solid as I would like it to feel for a little while now.
Had moments where I was very pleased but more often than not I shook my head and wondered why I am struggling.
That is part of the joy of writing, this push-pull feeling we get about the quality of our work.
Sometimes I am certain it is awesome and sometimes I just shake my head.
Given that most of our feelings about writing are subjective it is possible and likely that whatever feeling a writer as will be mirrored and opposed by the readers.
So you got to roll through this valley with a love for what you do and the surroundings or you just won’t last.
And that friends isn’t a secret, but I’ll share it here anyway.