The boy that was

 
This is my favorite photo of you. 
You squeezed me so very hard and so very long.

I never really thought I'd have kids. 
But I as I watch you grow, I am so very proud of you. 
Your sympathy to others. 
Your humor. 
The beginnings of a giving spirit.

I cast this message 14 years into the future. Ish.

Right now
You are making peppermint bark at 10:17 at night. November 2021. It’s not going well, but the house is not on fire. So, that’s a good thing.

I hope it finds you well, and strong. I love you forever, Ryu West Giugni

Daddy.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Drunkin Sailor, what shall we do with?

Image
 I would really love to say that creativity is peaking. That all things erupted from the head of Zeus once the pressure was released. But it has not. It is surprising how much less motivation I have. A friend from camp came to my city and it was glorious. Then my spouse was; I'm glad you don't have the camp joy anymore, it made me sad to have you gone. 2 months out of the year is too much? To nourish myself, push myself, be myself? Ugh. I'm going to make a tent fort.
Read more

Change

 sad sad sad lost sad lost sad sad weeping grief unbearable grief; unable to be freed loss age sneaks up on you like a predator one day you don't notice it the next you're on the ground. Clutching your manliness and wondering how you lost it. Easily. You went gently into the night- instead of fighting/exercising/renewing. you had a small death and not petite mort, but a moment. It can be fixed. But, for the moment. Be... Sad, lost, sad, sad, lost, sad... Change is a bitch.
Read more