The Boy Teacher and the Father Student 44; “I Dropped The Ball”.
I Wonder About Better
Sometimes Bad Means Good
Life really does not follow the script we write. Or even the one we right. We just get to ride along and go for it. I have righted some wrongs that should have been darned well left alone. We do not get to be the director of this production we call life. Now how in heck do you teach this to a child who must believe that he is the one to make a difference? Perhaps most have not ridden a horse. I would figure even less have had the good fortune to ride a horse without saddle or reins, bareback. Using only knees and the mane to hopefully nudge in a direction in general.
Why would my dad and “uncle” Dwayne do that to a boy? The Miller Ranch about ’65. Why did they think it was proper for a boy to understand he is not in full control? Maybe to teach him to let the horse run and not control it in the niggly ass part of the ride. Nothing more freeing than letting go of the mane and just hugging. A lot more tame than the one I rode on a drive later.
F: Why do you cry sometimes?
B: I told you I don’t know why, I just do.
F: Is it to get what you want?
B: Maybe sometimes.
F: Maybe because you get hurt?
B: I think I do that to get your attention about my ouchy.
F: Do you think that you don’t need to?
B: See dad you always want answers and I just don’t know. Sometimes like you being happy I just get sad and need to cry.
F: I cry.
B: Dad you are weird you don’t cry when it hurts. You just cuss. I think that is funny. Why not just cry like me? You cry about poetry.
F: Well son or San you are right, better to cry than get mad. Do you know why you are named My San?
B: Something about an American Saint that makes no sense at all. But I know san means saint and My in Vietnamese means American.
F: And Gabriel your American name?
B: A bad ass Archangel but you almost named me Michael about another one.
F: I figure I talk too much.
B: It is OK dad. People say that old people repeat themselves because they forget. But I just ignore you.
My Mistakes Don't Mean Much to a Boy
Each Raindrops Different
We wonder sometimes about passing on a legacy. I have to admit I have given this thought with my four children. It would seem to me that that is not such a good idea. Maybe if they carry on with love then that is the best. Who would bequeath being jailed on four continents to his children? So we don’t pass down our hardships but our glory and what a load that is. “Dad let’s play the ‘year’ game.” Where were in 1977? “Son that is a whole year. Get closer”. Where were you on your birthday in 1976?
Easy peasy. Sitting in an outdoor café at a place called Champs Elysees swilling beer and hard Cointreau shots. Don’t ask about the gal I knew before I met your mom.
B: Dad, where will I be in 1999?
F: Well that time passed boy. Let’s see maybe in 2099? About a million years away. I think you will be hugging your grand children. You will only be about 80 something. And you are not like me. You eat real healthy from birth.
B: Dad it is weird to eat right now so that I live until 90 years old. You said that is too old anyway. Right?
F: Maybe I should think about that more. I said that?
B: Dad you do not remember half of what you told me.
F: See the point son? If we are just repeating what we thought or did is that OK?
B: No way dude am I thinking about that.
So we stand out in the pouring rain. Kind of just putting our face into the rain. We are happy and then the boy expresses a thought I never did think. “dad each raindrop is different just like they say about snowflakes.” Well that requires some thought and the response comes most naturally. “Son that is a good point and do you know what that point is?” “The one on your head” hihihi. “No son, we are all different and special and the good spice of life is the raindrops and people we meet.” “Dad you are a freak”. “Can’t you just talk normal?” Sorry buddy but I gave up normal a long time before I even met your mom.
4 Mile Deep
Give it Up For a Good Life of The Boy
We Do It For Us
B: Can I take off my socks to jump in mud puddles?
F: Yes and you can go barefoot instead of wearing those grock thingies. But you will be more comfortable wearing that stuff before your hot bath. Learn yourself I just wash dishes and clean and cook so what do I know?
B: I think I will just leave them on, it makes me think that you made that mistake and I don’t need to.
F: I can’t believe you can thing so sophisticated. You scare me boy. Would you like to go to meetings with young people that are like you in the brains?
We just let it settle like a good broth. I think he just got an inkling that he is not normal. Perhaps I should help make him normal. The boy who flew to close to the sun crashed and burned. I would like to believe in such notions. What the heck do you do with a child, pre-teen that is smarter than you? I am a sissy pants so I just ask God. I am trying to make him understand that he is like all of his buddies. But two 100% scores and a Math Excellence award this week makes it questionable if I can contain the intellect. So I go to the default mode which I know will serve him well.
F: Hey buddy give,, who you love the most in order. You know.
B: You already know it is mom and then Jesus and then you and then my brothers and sisters.
F: I think too hard and I think you should stay with that. But remember we still love all grandpas and grandmas even though they are in heaven and not here.
F: I am not feeling great. You know, just off the mark. Kind of a weak and pukey thing. Maybe something I ate. Or those new medications for cancer.
B: Dad do not bull me. I know. It is your cancer. I know all about it and that you will beat it.
F: Now boy do we do well around here?
B: Dad I know, we do not do well, we do great. Every day better than the last. But now that sounds like a robot.
F: There is an idea and it goes like this; This is the day that the Lord has made and I shall rejoice and be glad in it.
B: Dad it is raining so hard I cannot even play in it. The rain hurts.
F: So cool for us. I went by the bodega with garbage bags and the homeless folks had gone to the city for shelter. You know why large garbage bags?
B: I know dad. They cut holes in them and use them like raincoats or whatever.
F: Just hug me boy and shut up. These are raindrops not tears. Each of us suffer when one suffers and it hurts me. It is just one of those “it is” ideally boppers.
F: Dang now you made me all wet. I reckon that is a good wet.
B: Dad get a grip.