14 Jul

Jesus, the baton gets passed down so quickly. Generational brackets get tighter. I used to watch this scene unfold with my grandfather as the star. Now it’s my old man.
“Listen,” I write to him, “I’m going to call tomorrow; the little one wants to tell you all about her snake.”
“Mmyea,” he writes back. “Our girl has something otherworldly about her. Listen, I need to cook all day and then go out and trim the hedges. I’ll leave the window open so I can hear the telephone.”
And all of a sudden there is no delineation between him and his father–my grandfather. He is one and the same. And I think, one day soon it’ll be my turn. I’ll be the old man picking weeds out of the lawn, keeping windows open to hear the phone. Strange thing about these cycles. I love them and I loathe them. They almost seem too scripted. Too inevitable. But somehow, they’re right and comforting. I cannot explain that properly. They’re like down pillows.


2 Responses to “Mmyea”

  1. slyboots2 14/07/2007 at 5:19 PM #

    I gotcha. Totally. My mother passed on the family amethyst ring to me this week- and it looks like it does on her hand, and her mother’s hand…on down the line- we wear it on the same finger.

    Won’t you have a cell phone in a handy holster by then, though? You know, “Jitterbug”! (My mom has one of those- about burst myself laughing out loud when I saw it. She didn’t get the joke.)

  2. Lx 15/07/2007 at 12:26 AM #

    OMG, Jitterbug phone is hilarious. all big with giganto numbers.

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