The prior post wasn’t my best work but it wasn’t bad either and it is one I might suggest be read by some.
Facebook reminded me that July 18, 2018 is when I got word it was time to make that run to L.A. that I hadn’t been wanting to make.
The one that meant the sand in the hourglass was spilling out faster and the end was coming.
Friends and family who had been down that particular path told me to expect to be surprised by moments of grief in the future.
“You can’t always predict it, so just roll with it.”
Sunday night caught me by surprise because I anticipated feeling something and that something punched me in the mouth.
Looked at my reflection and had the silent conversation with myself that I sometimes do and just stopped talking.
We said to the other “I wouldn’t talk to me either” and then I went to bed because there wasn’t any more to be done.
Memories would come or they wouldn’t and no action I could take would make a difference. He isn’t coming back.
Lying in bed, staring at the ceiling I realized that my Facebook memories are going to be filled with all of my musings about that last week and wasn’t sure I want to see it.
The not wanting to see it isn’t because I am afraid to relive it in any way. This really isn’t a face your fear kind of thing and if it was I expect the old man would push me to do it.
“Get it over with and then you don’t have to live with the anxiety of ‘what if.’ It will be done.”
That was the advice he gave me about a kid that was giving me a hard time. Stand up to him or let him bully you.
But there isn’t any bullying going on here.
I am a sentimental kind of guy but today I am not feeling a need to relive this so I am going with that.
This doesn’t have to follow logic or rational thought. There doesn’t need to be a well thought out plan.
I’ll feel whatever I feel and if things follow the past couple of years I’ll remember something else from that last week, the funeral or Shiva.
Something will pop up and float to the surface and that will be whatever it is.
Hell, there is so much that has happened during the last 10 or so years. Someone told me a while back they were certain they knew most of my stories but they don’t know nearly as much as they think.
I understand the idea though because when you know someone well and you go back there is a sense that you know some things.
But there are those corners we keep dark and closets we don’t open so sometimes people don’t know what they think they do or have the access they would expect.
That is not a value judgment or attack on them. It is a normal and natural part of being human. We are selective in what we share and with whom, some more than others.
Nothing wrong with it either.
My son and I had a conversation about this line of thinking not so long ago. Someone said something and the two of us burst into laughter.
When they asked us to explain I shook my head and apologized. I don’t think either one of us could have put that moment into words but we understood each other.
It reminded me of a moment when he was little and he asked me if grandpa and I laughed together and I nodded my head.
“That is good dad, we are supposed to do that. Fathers too.”
I think he might have been six or so when we had that conversation. Might have been around the time he wanted to open a donut shop with a friend that wouldn’t sell chocolate donuts.
Neither of the boys liked chocolate or for that matter do today.
In some ways the biggest difference between then and now is their recognition that if they ever did open the shop they would want to offer chocolate flavored products to have a broader reach to potential customers.
I talked to them about that being a potential need at the time but they were adamantly against it.
They were certain there would be a bigger market for a donut shop that didn’t sell chocolate donuts than I thought.
Fifteen years later I sometimes wonder if maybe they were right. Could be an interesting marketing angle but I doubt I’ll explore that line of thought in anything other than a speculative manner.