Late. It took me four days to blow it.
Missing deadlines? Part of my life.
It is these dead gray sky days on the doorsteps of Winter that just depresses the hell out of me. I don’t want to be a manager. I don’t even want to be a grown-up. I hate Christmas because my job smothers the whole bell ringing season into a blurr of deadlines and fear. I want to be carefree again. A kid. A little boy. Laying on the top bed of the bunk bed and counting down the days until Christmas with my brother Greg.
GREG WHERE ARE YOU???
I miss you brother. I love you brother. I realize so many little stupid things now. The innocence of being a child. Under the shadows of our mothers and fathers, aunts and uncles, Grandfathers, Grandmothers…they are all almost dead. Everyone. Dead.
Once upon a time life would go on forever and our parents would always be there. But not here. Not anymore. Maybe that is in heaven.
Hello Uncle Billy??? Hello?? Why am I so afraid to call you?? What was my dad like as a little kid? Were you guys close? What about pop? Did he speak German to you? Hello??? Hello??
Hush a bye baby, on the tree top,
When the wind blows the cradle will rock;
When the bow breaks, the cradle will fall,
And down will come baby, cradle and all.
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