If I weren’t looking out my window at the current gloom or waking up to an alarm before the sun is even shining, I’d damn near think it was summer. This last heat wave in California making us all complain about it not yet being sweater weather and making school days feel like a total…
I still identify with being a traveler and my heart still aches for the same as it did back then. I guess the only difference is that I no longer cringe at the idea of a vacation; leave it to parenthood to make you feel like you’ve earned the right to put your mother fucking…
Willy: beat his record of consecutive days without taking a shower.
Hooper: walked into us tending to Sonny, who had blood all over him and all over us, and said, ‘HOLY SHIT’.
Van: was mad about something and completely disappeared, prompting Willy and I to grow near frantic. He popped out from behind a door upstairs just before we were set to call the police.
Sonny: fell and busted his lip and left our home looking like a murder scene.
Me: got Jimmie water using my feet while flossing my teeth and felt like the ultimate mulittasker and earned the nickname ‘fancy dandy’ from Willy.
Jimmie: cleans up blood just as well as he cleans up discarded food from the highchair.
I debated telling you the news that truthfully ran on in the background the entire day while you were at school; it’s always a debate as to whether to shelter or share. Complexities of a world that’s ever-changing. And not always in a direction we want it to.
Initially you had a lot of questions, most logical like “how could he carry that many guns?” and “did he have a car?” and others that offered matter-of-fact answers, like “how many people did he kill?”. It’s the questions of why that I cannot answer; your helpless eyes looking to me, always, for all the answers.
We talked about good and evil before going to bed and I asked that you hold the victims in your heart. We joked about being hearts for Halloween because we’re all on the same page that the world needs more love. You asked about gun laws and, on your own, came up with the novel suggestion that only the police should have guns.
I agree boys, I agree. You are my light, my life. The good in a sometimes evil world.
I beg you, grow to be good.
Image by Walter Chappell, words in response to the Las Vegas massacre.
There’s much to be said about the light in the Pacific Northwest. But there’s even more to be said about an evening, with 6 kids, that went better than any script we could have wrote. None of the usual tantrums or whining or fights. Just kids playing late into the long summer night; complete with…