(no subject)
Is it ever time for this week to end.
Stress is constant, fluid, tiding. If it's not one thing, it's another. You think you're in the clear and then you're not. You think you've made it through and then you see something else looming. The clouds part only to reveal another grey sky.
But who says grey isn't beautiful? And who says the sun can't shine on a grey day? It is, it can, it does.
My dad and I passed a grocery store on our way to breakfast this morning. I never even knew it existed. I pass that place several times a week. The store is set back from the road several feet. The building is small, dirty, unattended.
We saw a car turning in. No one there is anyone, my dad said. Everyone there is low-life. He frequently categorizes certain people as low-life. Only, he spends time in some of the same places as these people. He earns the same sort of living. He's been charged with the same crimes.
So what sets him apart?
I don't really know. Something does, though. It took me a long time to have respect for my father, but now I have quite a bit of it. He's not one of those people.
Something else he said upset me, though. I was dropping him off, and he asked if I need any money. I reminded him about the remainder of the amount he's supposed to be giving me for my mom, and he said he couldn't give me any more than $20 today. Normally that wouldn't bother me, but I know he had $100 more in his wallet. He said, I have to buy something. What is he buying? What costs $100 that he can carry on his bicycle? That he needs cash for?
Knowing his habits, I don't want to think too much about the answer to that. Unfortunately, I haven't stopped thinking about it all afternoon. I wish he'd have specified. I wish it were likely that he was buying something innocent.
This must be a test. I say that I am finally at peace with my father's nature. But if I'm not comfortable with even the suggestion of a threat, am I really at peace?
Stress is constant, fluid, tiding. If it's not one thing, it's another. You think you're in the clear and then you're not. You think you've made it through and then you see something else looming. The clouds part only to reveal another grey sky.
But who says grey isn't beautiful? And who says the sun can't shine on a grey day? It is, it can, it does.
My dad and I passed a grocery store on our way to breakfast this morning. I never even knew it existed. I pass that place several times a week. The store is set back from the road several feet. The building is small, dirty, unattended.
We saw a car turning in. No one there is anyone, my dad said. Everyone there is low-life. He frequently categorizes certain people as low-life. Only, he spends time in some of the same places as these people. He earns the same sort of living. He's been charged with the same crimes.
So what sets him apart?
I don't really know. Something does, though. It took me a long time to have respect for my father, but now I have quite a bit of it. He's not one of those people.
Something else he said upset me, though. I was dropping him off, and he asked if I need any money. I reminded him about the remainder of the amount he's supposed to be giving me for my mom, and he said he couldn't give me any more than $20 today. Normally that wouldn't bother me, but I know he had $100 more in his wallet. He said, I have to buy something. What is he buying? What costs $100 that he can carry on his bicycle? That he needs cash for?
Knowing his habits, I don't want to think too much about the answer to that. Unfortunately, I haven't stopped thinking about it all afternoon. I wish he'd have specified. I wish it were likely that he was buying something innocent.
This must be a test. I say that I am finally at peace with my father's nature. But if I'm not comfortable with even the suggestion of a threat, am I really at peace?