And it starts with One Minute You’re Here and moves to Hurt and multiple questions about unexpected silence from people who are here and are gone the next minute.
Reminds me of a time I told someone that if they make like Houdini I can always reach out and pull them back in because some connections can’t be broken.
Tell me it is inextricable and I’ll say that is what you said and keep walking because if it is real you’ll find me and if it is not, well I have things to do.
Got this pain in my elbow that showed up out of nowhere, unexpected and uninvited. Extended, twisted and turned my arm to try to figure out where it hurts and whether it is enough to be an issue but got no response.
Shrugged my shoulder and said to no one in particular, “hurts just enough to be noticeable but not enough to stop me from doing what I want to do.
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We Never Got To Discuss This
Had a conversation with the younger Mr. Wilner that reminded me yet again of a time when I was on the other side of it.
Heard my dad telling me about how he had discussed a particular situation regarding me with my grandfather and knew I would have had a conversation with him about this thing.
Won’t discuss it with anyone else because no one else will understand and it would take too much time to try to explain it. Not posting it here as a conversation starter or encouragement to try to engage because I already said there is no reason for it.
This is more to memorialize a moment that I might revisit with the younger Mr. Wilner down the road a ways. It is a time when father and son connect in a way that only we can,
It is too bad my old man isn’t around because he would appreciate this in multiple ways and he’d have something useful to add, might even say it better than I can.
But he isn’t here and he’s not going to show up in anything but dreams and memories and that is alright.
So I can’t tell him his grandson experienced a moment that he could blame his grandfather for. Would have enjoyed doing that but we never got to discuss this so here we are.
You’re Almost 23
After we finished our talk I spent a few minutes trying to take myself back in time to consider it all from a different place than I do now.
Closed my eyes and whispered “you’re almost 23” and watched a mental parade of images fly through my head like a film being rewound on a projector.
So many similarities and so many differences. Even though I remember quite a bit it is hard to fight through the fog of experience and go back to a place where my thoughts weren’t tainted by all that has happened.
That guy didn’t have any mystery aches or pains and never wondered if old clothes would fit, in large part because he really didn’t have any.
He was still thinking about moving to Israel and talking about different ways to make it work. There were some meetings and conversations, thoughts and ideas, some that materialized and some that didn’t.
Much of it started 38 years ago 10,000 miles away from here. That is when connections to some of the families of the hostages started and so many other things.
Now during a different time, a different life and a different world thoughts float backwards and forwards thinking about whether some ideas that once were ought to be pushed back into the place marked “still possible.”
Those questions, thoughts and ideas flow through the river while the ferryman stares off into the distance looking for submerged objects unknown and uncharted.
And from the depths a memory of something once said to the younger man comes a voice and a silent response, “what do fathers know.”
It is both question and curse. The guy who said it didn’t like what he heard and was angry.
Now all these years later there is this idea that maybe the carousel has completed one circuit and might offer a pon that can be ridden around again.
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