And the levity of one example brought on the harm of another while watching stars, listening to ‘mind’, and fingers reading pages and pages and dusty pages turning to new pages smelling of ink while staring at a bar room wall with all sounds bouncing from ear to ear, some listening to this, some not, the bar pushes further, mouths drink and pages turn; lives of another might be yours someday, as she watches from the other side.
I was sitting at the bar. Directly to my left was a door leading to the deck. The wind was picking up. John was rambling on with a friend. I saw the clouds and thought of my father. I walked outside and took this photo. I liked the wind and the darkening clouds. These clouds were exactly overhead. I wondered if there was a piece of my father in them. His celebration of life is this coming Saturday. I don’t want to go. I will go. But I don’t want to. I’m struggling with the guilt of not wanting to go. Just like I’m struggling with the guilt of telling my father he wasn’t there for me when I needed him most. I guess that’s how it goes. And maybe that’s why I stood outside alone. I wanted to show someone the photo of the clouds when I walked back in. What’s the point though. The clouds meant more to me than them. They always will.
Yesterday I picked Gavin up from school and told him I was going to drive him to a surprise. Gavin loves surprises! I drove him to a toy store and told him I was going to buy him a toy for absolutely no reason other than that I loved him. I gave him a budget and in we went. He picked out Tyro, a blue and stretchy Dino figure.
Just as I was paying for his new toy he decided he had something to say to the friendly cashier.
“Excuse me. Do you see that human right there? That’s my Dad.”
Well, there we have it. My son acknowledged my existence as a human and also as his father. I can rest easy.
P.S.,- As some of you know, I’m a very proud father and husband 🙂
Have a great day and buy someone a toy! lol they may just have something to say.
It was dark and raining. “There’s something outside.” “Did you see someone?” “No. It’s not a person.” I tried peering through the rain soaked window. “It’s upset with you, and you’re going to feel it from the inside.”
As I turned the corner my body was forced forward. My mind blurred in a frenzied pace. I had learned so much.
And he had stayed while the rain came down; he had stayed while she sat alone, only a blanket provided comfort, and he looking out the window at the rain thinking about how he might need to leave or to maybe not be in the same place as her, anymore, and the rain came and nothing mattered about any of it other than the thinking of what to do and the thinking of what to do meant something needed to be done.
They said it was going to be grey. They said to wear a coat in the morning. I thought of my coat after not wearing it. A bit like I thought about how my feet moved forward on the concrete. Sometimes a foot would move just over an old piece of something, like gum, and then the other foot would fix the system by stepping on the next one. Of course this would be done in reverse to correct it all. A boy on a bike rode passed me. He didn’t look at me. I tried; maybe it was me. I quickened my step and stopped looking at how my feet made progress on cement, instead I found levity in the bridge ahead. Underneath was a smooth rolling river. If I closed my eyes and listened well enough I could hear the smallest of gurgling. It was nice to hear.
It was a stone like any other stone except it had a mouth and spoke of pine needles and quantum therapy and about how a few fingers could cross the world if only for eyes to see and a heart to feel It told about how the heavens rained down so hard that the stone’s eyes were worn away and while it admitted it never had fingers, it felt it nearly could have while sadly its soul drifted away, quickly even, then slowly as the rain lessened Eventually the stone lay still with a bit of sun and less self and more thoughts with less sight until it was found by a frog hopping around laughter lit by courage and carried by a young girl wearing a yellow hat She dabbed the stone with a dry towel and said
‘You can force calm in the eyes of hatred, if you’ve been there before.’ He stomped through the mud, listening to the moist sounds, his boots covered in layers of love. “And what’s the about?” asked the tree with the misshaped mouth. ‘Nothing.’ “And why were you there?” ‘I don’t know, but I’m ready for when I am again,’ and the stomping continued and the mud said nothing.