It’s thirty-one years since my Uncle Mark died and almost seven since his older brother, my father died.
Their father, my grandpa died nineteen years ago and I have seen all of them in my dreams, sometimes separately and sometimes together.
Can’t say I am convinced it is just my mind playing tricks or if their spirits really came to visit me.
Can’t say it’s because I am the patriarch in this branch of the tree and have been since before I turned fifty or if maybe they thought it was important to share things with me.
Won’t tell you all we discussed unless you are a Wilner male that is at least forty because there is a code I won’t break.
But I will share a fragment from a post that found its way to the top and say that Dad and I had a conversation last night that is only partially related.
Ringo says It Don’t Come Easy and I nod my head because I agree.
Woke up for the first time in a long while and discovered the finger I dislocated when I slipped on the staircase didn’t feel quite right.
Almost four years since that unfortunate moment, I can still hear dad asking if I drove myself again.
“Yeah, tried to fix it myself but it was a problem and I said fuck it, drove to a Care Now.”
“Do you know anyone who could have helped out?”
“Yeah, you know I do and you know I refused to call. Wasn’t like it was a terminal illness or the bone was sticking out.”
“Try not to hurt yourself any more and if you do, don’t be too proud to ask for help.”
“Abba, you know the next time I throw myself down the stairs I’ll make a note to let you know I am driving myself.”
“Ok tough guy.”
“I learned from the best.”
Think Before You Act
I was reviewing the archives in search of a particular moment I had written about when I came across a story I shared about my daughter that has stuck with me.
Thought it was worth sharing again not just because it makes me smile but because it reminds me of how the world is on fire and how few of us are listening.
She told me to sit down, climbed onto my lap the same way she had done when she was really little and then put her head on my shoulder.
I closed my eyes and listened to her breathe and for a moment she was a toddler again and not 11 going on 30.
She fell asleep in seconds and I wondered what kind of day she had been through. This is the girl who screamed at me that I shouldn’t treat her like a baby because she is almost a teenager.
I waited a few minutes to see if she would wake up and then she exhaled and I felt her whole body relax.
In the old days that was the sign that I could put her in her crib or bed and know she was done for the evening, but that girl didn’t have homework and this one did.
Not to mention that I had things I had to get done, so I did my best to stand up without waking her so that I could carry her to her room.
We made it halfway up the stairs before she woke up and told me to put her down.
“Why are you carrying me?”
“Because you fell asleep and I figured your bed was a better place to take a nap. It is easier for me to beat up the monsters when they come out of your closet or from under your bed.”
She gave me a smile followed by a full eye roll, “I can do that now daddy.”
“I know you can, but I am always here and I know how to listen.”
“I know.”
We’re not taking the time to have the hard conversations. There are a few people I am furious with who seem to have cut me off for reasons that I am uncertain about.
I could tell you I have reached out to them and ask them to sit down and talk but I haven’t. I have let them walk away and wondered if they would reach out.
Wondered if they would tell me what happened so that we could have a discussion and figure out a path to resolution.
But they haven’t and I haven’t made much of an effort on my end. I have wondered if it was my anger that helped maintain the silence or if my gut said to give them their space and if it was meant to be they’d find their way back.
My liver biopsy made me rethink some of it. It made me ask hard questions about what I would do if I found out I was really sick and I came to some conclusions.
Talked some of it out with others, thanked them for their thoughts and walked away hearing my father’s voice. Heard him say I collect thoughts and do whatever the hell I am going to do anyway.
That made me smile and I remembered facing him to say, “you and mom should be proud you raised someone who is thoughtful and willing to take a stand. You always tell me I have to live with the choices I make and I am good with that.
People don’t have to like or accept what I do or don’t do but they do have to accept it is my life. I don’t wear a coat just because others are cold.”
****
The Russian asset keeps lying about having a mandate to act as he wishes. It’s patently false, he won by a terribly small percentage.
He knows he is in trouble because he pulled Stefanik’s nomination as US Ambassador to the UN because he is afraid of losing the majority in Congress.
We’re going to have to take advantage of the growing swell of outrage and talk to those we haven’t spoken with about how to band together to oppose the crazy.
The inclusion of a reported in an unsecure chat about war plans, the burning of human assets from allies, the betrayal of other allies, the talk about annexing Greenland, the pardons of 1500 people, including those who were filmed beating cops and so much more.
I think that might be part of why Dad came to visit me assuming it wasn’t just my imagination.
There is so much more I could say, so much more I could share but it isn’t meant to be pushed out like this.
It is meant to be distilled, distributed and understood by those know what I mean when I say I know things and those who can look at my face or posture and recognize what is going on.
It is a hell of a time to be a father but I am up for the challenge. We’re built for the storm and we have planted our feet.
I can sense land ahead, but it is going to take a minute for the ship to sail through the storm to get there.
Keep the faith.
Recent Posts
Some have asked for links to recent posts so here are a few you can look at.
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Did You Choose This Life Or Did It Choose You?
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Do You Wish To Dance With Death?
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