Into the heart of darkness today. Leaving home, I must have stared at the southern sky, marveling at Mars by Spica, reluctant to move. My sister asks whats wrong and I shrug it off. I dont want to tell her what Ill be talking about today: while the lesson is about science and Pavlov and Freud, it is really about talking about abuse and getting kids to talk, to trust. Fog blots out the familiar stars and I think about my dad, a complex man, who taught me to drink and fight, because thats what he thought made a man, like something out of Taras Bulba. The fighting wasnt just sparring sometimes, not practice, not a scene out of Taras Bulba. It was a dark place and I never spoke about it when I was in school, nor in college, in fact not until my mom died. I kept it buried--until my mom died. Thats also when my sister revealed her own darkness. I feel sometimes I could get lost in that fog. Sometimes I want to. After my mom died, I made the point of sharing that stuff in class, trying to offer a lifeline, a hope that if they, too, were in the dark, maybe they could talk about it, or at least know someone understands. The fog is past. I see Mars and Spica, Antares lower in the dark sky. My dad was a complex man whom I learned to understand later when I knew the forces that shaped him and I loved him, always will. The same man taught me to make a stand, to help others and not to be afraid. Dad, today is about you, good and bad, because we all have that.
Posted on: Wed, 29 Jan 2014 13:38:25 +0000
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