I wish that I had the ability to show people what I see. I don’t mean to be poetic or dramatic. I am serious. I wish that you could see inside my head and view my dreams and my experiences. I don’t expect you to feel or think the same way as I do, but so often the words are just not enough.
Maybe I am lying to you and myself. Maybe I really want you to see so that you can understand, so that you can share in my joy and my pain. But is that fair or realistic to ask of you. Is it reasonable to try and influence you, to try and make you view the world as I do.
Then again, why wouldn’t it be ok and is it any different than what I do right now.
Here is a sample of the things I have thought about today. It is not nearly as explicit or as descriptive as it could be, but it is accurate.
- Today I remembered the final two weeks of a friend’s life. I thought about his final moments and I remembered carrying his casket. I remembered the tears his friends shed as we buried him, the pain in the eyes of his parents. It was a hollow look that I cannot describe. I remember his brother leading his parents away and promising that I would see that he was buried. Not the funeral home, but me. It was an obligation that I happily took on, but it also felt like a commandment.
- Today I remembered the way it felt when I kissed the girl in this story. But I also remembered more. I remembered perfume and the soft touch of others. I closed my eyes and inhaled and I could feel my wife’s touch upon my body. I felt her press up against me and sensed her deep love. I felt her naked body upon my own and I remembered much more about her.
- Today I remembered the look on my son’s face when I introduced him to his little sister. And then I remembered the feelings I had when my parent’s introduced me to my baby sisters. I remembered teasing them and being chased. I remembered my father yelling at me to stop tormenting them and then I heard myself chastise my son, my words an echo from 30 years ago into the present.
- Today I remembered that I may be 36 but at heart I am still 5. I can still run like the wind. I am still faster than my grandfather’s car and my father is still the strongest man in the world.
- Today I remembered that last week I died in one of my dreams. I can’t remember how, but I know that I did. I was dead and people mourned my loss but I was not forgotten because my life had been meaningful.
- Today I remembered that sometimes I hate my writing and that the words are never good enough, never evocative enough, never strong enough and so I decided to write a post about it.
Did I succeed? I don’t know. Part 2 is coming up.