My lifelong love of storytelling and reading has brought me here…the stories keep me here.
A midnight ramble on the A and B theory of metaphysics and infinite moments
It's not surprising that the older I get, the more I think about time. I suppose our perception of time is generally commensurate with the time we expect to have left, right? And what if you're 48 years old facing the possibility of impending mortality? Thinking about time becomes a lot like having a Smith's song stuck in your head. Dark, man...
Before I was diagnosed it made me very uncomfortable when people with cancer made jokes about it. About cancer. It came across as forced - like they were protecting themselves by acting like there was something hilarious about it, blatantly signaling feigned acceptance of this piece of shit disease. Later, after navigating through a few phases of my own experience, I dabbled a little with the joke thing. Sometimes doing so felt pathetic and at times mildly humorous and, in the best of times, unavoidable hilarious.
And the Walls are Closing In
I'm facing the inevitable. The wheels are in motion and, to be honest, I'm not entirely happy about it. My daughter, my last born, is a college-bound high school senior and I have been hit like a ton of bricks with the reality of an unstoppable change sweeping over our lives. Reminiscent of the famous scene in Escape Route where Ben is trapped in a rapidly shrinking room while frantically searching for answers, I am trapped between the excitement of watching as she spreads her wings and the urge to hit the breaks and keep her in the nest while knowing, sadly, that there is really only one option.