usually have been thought about for a long time, written down, edited and modified many many times. so why not in life, can we plan our own . . . life?
i wonder that and then think about what i would write today. today, my dad died. i'm very sad. i would have written a very different story for me and my dad to experience if i was the writer of our lives together, yet i was not -- except as the child sitting here writing this.
i would have written a happy life for us -- which would need to have excluded my mother from all of our reality except for perhaps before age . . . 13. she was cool until i turned 13. then, i don't know what happened -- something like a combination of Pat Robertson meets Fox News hit. It seemed like nothing they taught me before then mattered.
we never reconciled, yet i do think they know i love them the same as i always did, even with all that hate and stuff they hold onto so tight. well, dad, you don't need to hold on to it any more. enjoy infinity, i hear its fun.
No comments:
Post a Comment