Got a few messages from people who want to know the background of the prior post and laughed because if you have to ask you don’t need to know more.
Five hours ago I heard from the nurse at my GI doc’s office with a follow up on a recent colonoscopy.
Had my first three years ago and was told that due to what they saw and my Dad’s history with pancreatic cancer that I wouldn’t get a five year window between them.
Three years blew by and so I took another spin with downing the human version of liquid drain cleaner.
Doc clipped a couple of polyps and told me that last time I had four.
I recognized the number flashing across my screen so I answered so I could get the news.
“Mr. Wilner, these were benign polyps. It is not cancer yet but they could turn so it is good you came in. Doctor Roto-Rooter says he wants you on a high fiber diet because things could be better inside but overall you’re good enough to go for five years this time.
Do you have any questions?”
I almost asked if it is normal to still have a metallic taste in my mouth but was five minutes out from the 873rd Zoom call of the day so I said no.
We spent a couple more minutes talking about my diet and covered a couple more items and hung up.
I signed onto the work call and when asked how my afternoon was said they could describe it as the kind of time in which you discuss your own crap.
People said that was funny and they could relate but I didn’t tell him it was literal or how you never expect to be so literal about some things with people.
Ain’t life a hoot.
My baby girl inherited my writing skills. Don’t care if that sounds obnoxious because she is talented and that is something I know I contributed.
She had me look at one of her college essays and yelled at me for doing too much editing.
“There is a word count. If you make it too long they won’t read it.”
I flashed her a look that silenced her complaint. It wasn’t my intention for her to read my expression as well as she did because I didn’t want her to see I was disappointed.
But she did and the idea I had for some simple edits and a conversation about how to strengthen it dissolved.
She said she would redo it and I said not to bother unless she would really dig in. Since she already knew where my head was it made sense to just spit it out.
It was worth the grumpy exchange between us because she produced something far superior than what I had initially read.
She wrote about Dad dying on her 14th birthday and the antisemitism she faced a few months later during her freshman year of high school.
And then she expanded upon it and spun a layered piece that ought to catch the eye of someone in an admissions office. Whatever happens she can be proud of it.
I made sure to let her know how impressed I was and told her I have had that happen to me many times.
Sometimes you pump out something that just doesn’t work and have to fight through it to get something better. I made sure to remind her she did that without my advice or consultation. What I read was lightly edited for grammar and spelling, the content was excellent.
If she wanted she could be a writer. She has the tools to be a storyteller but she is headed down a different path than I chose.
Nothing wrong with that, she needs to follow her passion especially as she is walking a road that offers the ability to earn a living and give back.
Don’t know if that is where she will end up, but she’ll figure it out.
Eventually I’ll get back to LA and go visit her grandfather to update him and give him a little grief for dying on her birthday. He wasn’t one to let guilt drive him, but that might a little bit.
Doesn’t matter, but a son gets to holler at his father about all sorts of stuff and if he doesn’t like it he can figure out a way to tell me or just let it go.
Makes me laugh a bit thinking about it all, my old man would have loved that Marcus Aurelius quote. You couldn’t get away with blaming anyone or anything else for how you behaved, not around Dad.
Been listening to Plant & Krauss again on Raising Sand, so many good cuts like Gone, Gone Gone, Please Read The Letter and Killing The Blues.
Reminds me again of how some combinations surprise us in ways we don’t expect or anticipate but not in bad ways.
Not bad ways at all, but in the best possible manner.
If you never feel the pain of loss because you loved and or cared than you have never really lived.
That is the kind of realization you never want to experience because that is true tragedy.
Got to go hard, go deep and go as long as you can. Never know what the morning tide will bring in or wash away.
