The Foundation Walls

Some day I might figure something out. Probably not today. Definitely not yesterday. Doubtful for tomorrow.

But I still try.

A stray thought about death crossed my mind again yesterday. Sam and Jake were in the backyard kicking the ball around with Rocco. They were arguing about whether it was a goal or not.

I proclaimed it to be in and they all reacted. Two with cheers and one with a call that I was cheating.

I was.

And there was that moment when the dread of what happened hit me. I hate it. Hate it. Hate it.

And I thought of the fact that death doesn't ever really take a break. It's like having leaky walls in your basement. If you don't go down there much, you don't think about it. But when it crosses your mind...

...it bugs the shit out of you.

And there isn't a lot to be done.

What are you going to do? Rip the foundation down and start over? Overpay someone to come in and do god knows what to repair what the hell is wrong.

Will it actually be repaired?

Or will it just be a cosmetic change that will fall apart anyway when the entire foundation crumbles.

Rocco is in to quarters, and balls, and cars, and ice cream, and laughing and punching, and dogs and farts, and driving everyone around him crazy with his smile.

Just like my kids were and sometimes are, despite the fact that they should be just about over the 'farts are funny' stage.

Rocco is safe and happy and secure and he is really unaware of the leaking walls.

But he will know sooner than he should have to, and that's too sad for words.

I truly don't want to think about the leaks any more today.

We are on the verge of an epic celebration over the weekend.

I'll think of that.

Comments

Bah! You had to make me cry. . . and remember the f**cking leaking walls.

It blows.

Epic celebration!

That doesn't blow.

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