Maybe I am lying to you and myself. Maybe I really want you to see so that you can understand, so that you can share in my joy and my pain. But is that fair or realistic to ask of you. Is it reasonable to try and influence you, to try and make you view the world as I do.
Then again, why wouldn't it be ok and is it any different than what I do right now.
Here is a sample of the things I have thought about today. It is not nearly as explicit or as descriptive as it could be, but it is accurate.
- Today I remembered the final two weeks of a friend's life. I thought about his final moments and I remembered carrying his casket. I remembered the tears his friends shed as we buried him, the pain in the eyes of his parents. It was a hollow look that I cannot describe. I remember his brother leading his parents away and promising that I would see that he was buried. Not the funeral home, but me. It was an obligation that I happily took on, but it also felt like a commandment.
- Today I remembered the way it felt when I kissed the girl in this story. But I also remembered more. I remembered perfume and the soft touch of others. I closed my eyes and inhaled and I could feel my wife's touch upon my body. I felt her press up against me and sensed her deep love. I felt her naked body upon my own and I remembered much more about her.
- Today I remembered the look on my son's face when I introduced him to his little sister. And then I remembered the feelings I had when my parent's introduced me to my baby sisters. I remembered teasing them and being chased. I remembered my father yelling at me to stop tormenting them and then I heard myself chastise my son, my words an echo from 30 years ago into the present.
- Today I remembered that I may be 36 but at heart I am still 5. I can still run like the wind. I am still faster than my grandfather's car and my father is still the strongest man in the world.
- Today I remembered that last week I died in one of my dreams. I can't remember how, but I know that I did. I was dead and people mourned my loss but I was not forgotten because my life had been meaningful.
- Today I remembered that sometimes I hate my writing and that the words are never good enough, never evocative enough, never strong enough and so I decided to write a post about it.
What is nice about sharing these thoughts is it triggers similar memories in our own minds. We may not be able to totally share the pain or joy of your feelings, but we dig into similar moments and relive those particular memories again. While reading this entry I remembered a song I heard the other day on the radio called My Baby and how much it reminded me how much I love my baby (now 23) and how much I related to it. And how I might be 53, but I still feel like I am 27... except when I read and then I feel like I am 10. My body? It feels a bit older... but I push away the aches and pain when I am "bemembering." Thanks, Jack!
I wonder if I'll ever feel like I am older than 5. ;) I find all of this just fascinating.
Yeah, you succeeded. And then some...
This was an awesome peek inside your head, Jack.
I think all of our lives have meaning. Some of us just have a problem recognizing that fact.
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