Kristin and I had a nice conversation over the week she was
here. It was about a number of things. Family history (God, not that!) Oh, you
know this but you don’t know what happened before this. That. That happened
before this and then this and then the other thing and, well, here we are at
the now. I have no clue what went on before that. I kinda dropped into the
whole mess right here in 1955. Sorry. Not an expert.
Although we are all experts on how we cope. What we did
wrong. Or right. Or mostly bumbled our way through. And we branched out our
talking to greater subjects. What’s going on in the world around us. What we
can understand. What we find incomprehensible. Who’s at fault? What is
happening to our greater society, our culture, our country, and our world? Lollipops
and lynch mobs. Cabbages and Kings. And always coming back to our own part in
the fantasy of life.
Yes. I did bad things. Yes. I did good things. So has
everyone else. If only we could just talk to each other, we might see that we
are not all that different. When we look out into the landscape of human
weights and measurements, the good and the bad, how many of those shutterbox
views are actually mirrors? What do I see is thee, and what do I see is me? Typical
dorm room philosophy. But without any beer! I listened to her ideas and
insights and she listened to mine. She made insightful observations about my
ideas and I made them about hers. We talked. We listened. We understood. There
was respect.
I think my daughter is starting to think like me.
God in heaven. Is there no forgiveness for me?
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