Dear Clint, We just had the first official unofficial Gardner Reunion. (Or maybe the second I dont know because thats how we do things. You know.) We missed you. We missed Gram. We had fear about the future, about the unknown, about more loss. And we had drama. Because we have drama. I wish you had been there, I wish you were the man you were supposed to have been. When we all get together and we compare our own experiences and memories and sometimes they grate up against each other, the basic code degraded and rewritten each time we call it up from the hardsoftdrive of our brains, it hurts. It hurts because sometimes I think I didnt really know you at all. I only saw you. I only worried myself sick like I did for all of you when I was too young and helpless to know how to do anything about it. I still do that. There are new ones to fret myself over, and the only difference is that Im old and helpless now. I know its unrealistic to expect that you would be some kind of super uncle who swoops in and straightens out these yunguns who worry us and break our hearts. But you would know what it was like to be them because you were them. You would know how to say dont do this to your family. Weve had enough loss. And we will inevitably have more. But not sooner than we should, is the prayer of an atheist. My shot into the void. I miss you. Thats all. Youre in the bones of mom and dads house. Youre always a ghost there, just out of sight, just out of reach. Close enough to almost feel, like a word on the tip of your tongue. I drive past your bones a few times a year but the house is where you still live for us. The house is where we remember you. Or at least I do. Because maybe I didnt really know you at all. But I know your heart. We have the same kind of heart. (And we are not the only ones.) Armorless and easy to break but capable of so so so much love. You had more love to give. ... I miss you. That is all.
Posted on: Tue, 15 Jul 2014 16:13:02 +0000
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