Gifts I did not know

Woke from a dream where I was in a terrible realm

All my sails were ablaze I was chained to the helm*

The early years of my adult life were like this. Stuff was on fire, yet I drove on defiantly, deciding that it was just "no big deal". I worked hard to operate in every environment and to skillfully be thoroughly unimpressed. Night after night knowing that the very ground I lived on was sitting in the top of an hourglass in which the grains of foundation were disappearing with expected precision. 

Chemical rationalization was helpful in maintaining this ride. I was taught that maintaining was everything. Maintaining was the old school way that said, no matter how messed up you are, you operate as a productive member of society. I had the good fortune of this only affecting myself.

As I watch my sons navigate the transition into real life. I have been incredibly impressed by their choices, discernment, and the tools they have used in figuring out those paths. Even though I was considered to have the wisdom of an age greater than I was at their age, I had nothing on them in comparison. What they have gleaned from me has surprised me greatly. From my fight for survival, that have pulled key points and principles that I did not perceive were possible as I was running the course.

I find that I am constantly learning from them. It is in how Liam demonstrates a stereo system for me and with intention chooses Gimme Shelter by the Rolling Stones. The richness he found in this song speaks volumes. Gimme Shelter is a song about contrasts. The 1960s which a large peace and love movement was everywhere, it did not stop the 60s from being one of the most violent decades of our time. The song is drawing a line in the sand and states that, we are stepping over this line to a better day moving forward. It is a great piece of abstract art, lyrically, musically and in canon. 

The other night, Noah and I were talking about music. It is so interesting to sample what he loves to listen to. He knows his 70s and especially 80s very well. He has a knack for finding musicians today that actually still have talent, just when we thought talent died 30 years ago. What is great is, those artists clearly have influences from those decades and he finds it in deep complexities within the music.  It is so molecular that others may never see it, but he does.

Despite being told that our children will learn more from us than we can comprehend, I could never have imagined it could be as deep as it is. That the very nature of it is mostly subliminal. They are the ones teaching me. Fresh young minds. Those who do not compare today's life to the greatest decade 50 years ago. I try to keep an open mind about things, but when the intelligence I am receiving is that old, I am certainly sure to be swept away in the wake of time. That aggressive thing that I have fought and kept ahead of all of these years, foolishly thinking I could beat the adversary. Playing with cards that no longer exist equals devistation at last. 

As each day passes, I better understand, this is the time to sit an listen. Beautiful ideas, creativity and intellect abound around me. It is a sweet garden to live, and I don't want to miss it by seeing only contrast. The one thing we have always had was today. Today was not something I accepted very often, but I have learned, it is the most precious of gifts.

*song "Mockingbirds" Grant Lee Buffalo 1994  

In dire fear of time travel

 On a piece of iron ore, water, nitrogen, oxygen, and carbon hurtling through the expanse of space at thousands of miles an hour, the granular possibilities offer pathways spreading out infinitely like the webs of a spider weaving a complex expanse of highways reaching out for lightyears.

The night was thick, and I walked down the wooden steps to the sand; she called my name, and I turned back and walked up to her. She embraced me, and although it seemed like it was "come back," it later felt like "goodbye." I never found her again. I will never know why the people I was with would not leave me behind that night as I would have wanted them to. Had they done so, I would have ended up in very different places in the world.

A year later, on a Saturday night, the humid night air was so thick in the deep woods you could wear it. The fire outside crackled and sparked and smoked. I knew earlier that day the piano of awareness of what I could do with my life fell upon me from a great height. I am not sure what was responsible for the next step because I always thought it was me, but 40 years later, I discovered that I was caught in a web that could swallow up the sun's power. In that one moment, a portal opened. It was so impossible, so unlikely, and so destructive, and I tore off into it like I was rushing into war with rage.

26 months later, I watched my father's face as I told him that I was leaving. I have always said it; I felt like I watched him age 10 years as I said those words. So many times, I wish that I had not said it. So many times, I have wondered what my life would have been like had I not. 

During the years of the regime, I did not know many things, so all of my choices were made based on only the reality I knew. A familiar voice on the phone at midday was, in reality, the warden making the required checks. The more I think about it, the stranger it becomes. I know now that if you live in captivity but do not know it at the time, you still live in captivity. It is even worse.

When I broke free, the open road was ahead. That is where I was headed, and I should have taken it. I foolishly gambled one night on a lonely road, looking for someone I knew, who I never did find. In the daylight, I laid it all out for her, yet she maintained her cool. I was still headed for the road to never return. 

The invitation came, a great diversion, it too was carefully orchestrated. I carefully spoon-fed myself the truth of what I was doing next. A lifetime turned into months, and after careful manipulative words on the phone and in writing, months turned into days. This later became such a great regret for me. This was the last time I would see my father as a whole person. I traded it for commitment as my head was being forcibly pushed underwater.

One more big one that took me down a long, shadowy road. I walked along it for seconds into hours, adrenaline pumping through my veins the whole time, expecting to explode at any minute. Slowly, in my futility, I saw an obtainable life. In it, things got better all of the time.

This is the life I arrived at, and from it, I gained the most beautiful sons a person could have. When I look back on the moments in my life, those depicted above, in which my course in life completely changed on the head of a pin in one second, I shudder.

I am in awe that where I am today hangs on such tiny threads of events that were so unlikely. I often think about time travel and what I would do. On the lighter side, I would tell my Grandparents and Dad how much I love them one more time. On the heavy side, I would save myself and others from greater pains, or would I?

Seeing how my family happened by such a turn of a friendly card, I realize that even the slightest vibration change in the universe could change things so that I would never have ended up where I am. I have decided that, because of all of the burned bridges and landscape, manipulation, pain, and losses, I never want to see it when it comes to time travel. I would choose to die here now than to ever go back. I would never risk the beautiful gifts that I have been given. 

I will

 I will carry you down this path, and through this night 21 days long. I will never tire and constantly be the strength when you need a little more to see the morning come. I will sit on the floor to watch every moment, knowing that I am here and there is nothing that could stop that.

It is the ship I go down with. It is the fight I never concede. From the very spark of the beginning, I knew who you were. In that, I found out who I was. I was born so much later than I was born, and it happened in a different way when you arrived. It happened again but like a butterfly emerging from its cocoon. 

There were some very dark days when I saw fear like I had never known. I was terrified I would never know what I have the privilege to know today. Today, you show me. You live by the very best that I ever wanted to be, and I know that I did not do it, you did. Yes, in some way, I am sure that I helped. But I always knew who you were and who you would be. I just did, and I cannot explain.

Will I carry you when you need me to? Will I sit with you during the dark hours talking and being there for you when you need me? Will I try to live in a way that shows you how much I love and appreciate you? In all the chaos that surrounds us now making focus difficult, the world spinning around us like a tornado, will I be holding on, always there when you need me?

I will.

Three years later

 In the season of eternal status, where spring would always give way to summer in the most predictable ways, as it was in the 1920s, the 40s, the 60s, and here today in 78, it did not seem to change. I got off the bus that came down the hill every day, and I knew what to expect. 

The summer pressed on. Inside of me however an awakening was underway. I could tell that behind the summer music, things were never going to be the same. A bouncy and complex jazz run had laced the airwaves and it boasted sharpness. There were signs that time was moving, which also meant that changes were in the wind. 

The late summer movies gave way to the atmosphere of the fall background. The smell of new clothing, and paper, and the hum of fluorescent lights overhead in a building constructed in 1906 gave way to gravity that could never be denied. In a moment you can learn so much about yourself. 

As the leaves changed color, we were mobile again for the first time in two years. The freedom brought about uncertainty. As I look back on this, I realize that this was a small example of a phobia that could return to me in 1991 and in 2022. Sometimes it takes a long time to find the answers to your questions.

I woke up, and things were new. I was new. I was in control now. I was viable and it was great and weird at the same time. In only 4 seasons such as this one, things would be more different than anyone, anywhere could ever imagine.

Three years later, we are on the 36-month merry-go-round. Everything always looks the same. But somewhere on the piano keys in the smoke-filled VFW hall, the player makes a fatal slip of the hand, and a wrong note echoes off into the night. With that, there is a shockwave promising change we did not see coming or even could have imagined. It will look like freedom for sure. It will write books and songs and people will be born. But it is not freedom, it is worse than death, and we will live to regret it.

Three years after this, on a subzero morning, reality is stifled for a moment and my brain even paints what I think I should see. Suddenly, the parachute opens and tears me back from my manufactured vision, forcing me to see how unfair the world is. Innocence notwithstanding, crushed you will be whether you deserve it or not. There it is, my ride is here.

The bridges of the Intercoastal Waterway slap the tires in rhythm with the music and the hot summer breeze. Everything is different. There is sand in my bed and sand in my dreams. There will never be a feeling like the one I feel now. Never. Here there will be nothing but bridges and they are everywhere. I would never trade this for anything. 

And then three years later, the sun rises over the severity of the Adirondacks and I see it as if it were my first time ever. I start the days slowly, resuming what the bitter cold day took from me back in 84, but soon, my impulse takes over and I am living nothing short of an action thriller, that sometimes I lose minutes or even hours of understanding about where I am or what I am doing.

Raw survival instinct kicks in and coupled with the life I have lived the last three years, I know I have something rarely ever imparted to anyone. The ride gets faster and more wild; that is when we jump and succeed. It is a new day and that is good, but things turn dark the following year and I find myself out on the fringe again, more than ever now.

It has been three years since I journeyed north, and it was time to go south again. The things you do when you have completely lost yourself and your mind. It was here that I was destroyed at the wall of creation in a violent blast! Rage coursed through me and revenge was all I could think of. But as the hours passed, I knew it was all me. The ride had to stop here and now, and somehow, it did. Big painful changes had to be made. There were so many of them. Some still hurt today.

What happened next defies who I am and yet defines who I am too. The one thing that I feared the most, the one thing I never did, denounced, and would never be a part of, I accepted, embraced, and watched it unfold like a novel that I was reading and not actually living in.

Three years later, Neil Young's Harvest Moon came out and in the notes of the music, I could feel that everything up and around the bend, was about to change. It changed in a very big way, forever. 

It was a very dark day three years later, standing at the bedside of my father learning that time was up, this was all we would have. It wasn’t right but it was happening anyway. The days that followed were even darker, I was sure I would never see the light of day.

Three years passed and I found myself in a whole new life despite not moving from where I stood. It was timeless and daring. Voices came in over the stratosphere warning that the end of everything was coming. We could never make it back. Suddenly I woke up in a dark parking lot, music was playing and change was in the air. As soon as I heard the music, I knew.

Three years later, Warren was gone, Johnny was gone too and I had a beautiful son. Everything was new and it made everything else that came before seem like it had all been a movie that I had been watching in a dark theater on a sunny afternoon. 

Three years later, there were two beautiful boys in my life. It kept getting better. Late in the year, affliction came knocking. Undiscovered country to navigate, to fight, and to survive.

Three years later, I sat in the hospital reading Are You My Mother to Noah hundreds of times, praying that he would be able to read it too someday. I walked the basement of the hospital with Liam exploring, spending time with him, hoping that soon we could be together again.

Three years later everything changed in the war. Where we were stationed, and how we were equipped. New normal. 

Three years later I am still climbing out of the mire of a life lived in a defensive posture. Never figured it out but I knew where to go.

Three years later I got perspective on the trails. I was starting to learn that discomfort is a diploma and one we should not deny. The biggest trial was coming. 

Three years later I fell on the dying grass that was recently only lush and green. I could not get up and I could not move. Everything that I was got turned upside down and spilled all over the ground. I did not know how to put everything together. A spaceship descended from the sky, and a woman got out and lifted me to my feet. She looked at me and asked, what would you do if you were not afraid?

Three years later I am sitting here writing this. I never noticed this unique rhythm that has played out here. Some days, I feel like I have come a long way. Other days I feel like I have not moved in 30 years.

My Amazing and Wonderful Noah

Asian Grocery, Best Buy, B.A.M, and "Going under is cool"

Today was a day we had been wanting to get to, or at least out of the way. Noah needed to have a biopsy on the bone near his right ankle. It has been swollen in a lump since last April. A summer of ultra sounds, x-rays and blood work have led to the need for a biopsy. This is the 4th time in Noah's 10 years we put him out for a procedure. Most of these in the last 3 years.

I have such PTSD about this since a major hospitalization in 2009 in which he was under for 11 days allowing a machine to do his breathing for him and hospitalized for 21 days that time. But Noah informed me today, "going under is so cool." He takes all of this in stride, he is amazing. I am so proud of him.

He has been through so much,I would buy him a leer jet if he asked for one (and I could afford one). His request was B.A.M. (Books a Million). Unfortunately, they moved to a location half it's previous size. They somehow managed to not continue to carry all of the things Noah wants to go there for. Yes, I would buy the store and make them carry what he wants. He earned it.

We went to Liam's requested destination, Best Buy. There is a graphics card that Noah wants. I would love to get it for him, but it is $200, his computer really couldn't handle it either. I would need to buy him a computer too. It's a slippery slope. I hope some day Noah will know how much I admire his bravery and how proud I am of him.

One more stop before we left the upper valley, the Asian grocery. When we got home, he said he would love potstickers. I did not have everything I needed to make them, but I realized if I did have everything, I am really fried tonight. As Noah's father, I have stayed awake to see him through so many nights. I have read "Are You My Mother" a hundred times in 21 days. I am nothing though. Well, nothing but ever thankful to be his Dad.