49th Confession

A long, long time ago, I promised to answer every comment that was listed on this blog, either in a post, or in the comments.  I didn't do that for the February blogs; I figured it needed to be done eventually, but I didn't have the strength.  Sitting up late when I should be abed, I suppose now is as good a time as any to address this.

In no particular order:

Emma - Not only do you win for the Most Dedicated Responder Award for your work on typing on a mobile, you also win the Most Likely to be Blog Stalked, when you write down your experiences. Let me know when this happens, and where.  While I do not envy anyone who shares our experiences, a burden shared is halved.  Some time, I'll have to blog about darling Livvy ("Mummy...Where's that MAN?")...Maybe I'll leave that one for you, though ;)  By the way? A doorway into the mind works both ways; ask Madame de Pompadour.

ConTom - Every post I write is theraputic in some way. Thank you for reading my soul.

grace/Grace - You were the first responder to this crisis, all these years ago. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Thank you for stopping in the bracing cold air, just for that moment. While I always do the best I know how, I never felt it was ever enough.

Interesting sidebar at this juncture: this evening, I dined with a father whose teenage son ascended about six weeks ago. Six weeks is about the time when the bottom drops out of everything: the prayer support seems to stop, you raise your head up out of your grieving pool for the first time to notice that the world has passed you by, and you get the paranoid sense that people are thinking to themselves, "It's been over a month; they should really move on by now." No one wants to say your child's name to you, lest they bring up something uncomfortable and not know how to respond; we wanted to talk of nothing else, lest she be forgotten.

So tonight, sitting across Chipotle meals, we talked about his son. No teenage boy does everything right, especially one in today's liberal society. But tonight, I saw the fruits of a great father finally be revealed: that when his son was no more, other parents talked about his excellent behavior. Good parenting, like wisdom, is revealed by her children - especially in the absence of the parent.

Na - Honesty you may have in abundance on this place. Happiness, like heated leather seats, will cost you extra ;)

Tina - I am deeply honored to be among the best fathers that you know. In this world, we receive an ungodly number of teachers but only a handful of fathers: to know a good father is rare enough, and to be called among the best is a title that I strive to achieve daily, now. Thank you for walking with us on this path, in such a time as this.

Fremere - We all walk the paths that we create from our choices; while I regret some choices from long ago, I appreciate your companionship on the road right now.

Happy - Aye. 'Tis. <3

Mercy for Today - Sometimes, I walk by that picture frame, and I stop and talk with her for a minute or two. Also for you, a fable: A gecko and an elephant were walking together along a path through a jungle in the cool of the day.  The gecko, being quite small but enjoying the conversation with his friend, asked to ride on the elephant's shoulder; the elephant, being a quite kindly animal, obliged. Soon, they reached a giant chasm. Across this chasm, an exceedingly clever man had fashioned a bridge from several hundred thousand vines; don't ask about where the vines are from or how he fashioned the bridge - it's immaterial, and quite rude to interrupt the story like that. Do it again, young man, and I'll turn this van right around and not give you any pudding.

Where was I?

Oh, yes: the bridge. Across the bridge the elephant walked, with the gecko clinging for dear life to his friend's shoulder. The winds howled around them, the bridge swayed precariously from side to side, and the river roared below them. Creaking, popping, and snapping sounds were also in the audio mix, mostly from under the elephant's feet. This is a nice fable, so they both made it across in relative safety. After reaching the other side, the gecko whispered into the elephant's ear, "We sure shook that bridge, didn't we?"

Jessa B - Our footfalls echo in the memory/Down the passage which we did not take/Towards the door we never opened/Into the rose-garden. My words echo/Thus, in your mind. But to what purpose/Disturbing the dust on a bowl of rose-leaves/I do not know. Thank you for listening to my echo; enjoy TED =)

Heather H - When we all get there, I'll be glad to make Josh's acquaintance. Until then, may our memories keep them close to us, even as they enjoy their new home. 

Aiight - that's all for now.  Next post is number 50 - not sure what to do with THAT.  Suggestions?