Another Revolution

Blackbird You were only waiting for this moment to arise. Here Comes the Sun It's been a long cold lonely winter. It feels like years since it's been clear. Let It Be

I remember the serious eyes of the doctors on May 10, 1987 and sad eyes of everyone on May 10, 2005.  Trepidation, anticipation, joy, pride, and in the end, sad. 

Fourteen years ago tonight I went to sleep. Aaron was with friends a few hundred yards from our home. He'd be asleep, home safe and sound in a few hours. Peace. Content.

I remember his laugh and yet I can't recall it. I remember his little boy voice was full of enthusiasm and anticipation. If only reality could have met his imagination.  For only a few days he had an eighteen year old voice. Calm. Chill is the word he used. I can almost hear that voice. It's out there just a little ways out of reach.  I strain to hear.   My jaw is so tense.

Its a bullet train bearing down on me. I see it, hear it, feel it. It's out there and coming. I've been here so many times before. No matter what happens in the 12 months between appearances, when the engine is due, there I am standing at the station. The train never stops. It never slows, it has a place to go. Hell if I know where it goes. It just goes. Around and around. A revolution a year. This silver train will blow by me tomorrow afternoon. I'll see it fade to white. 

Maybe the train is the phone call. "Are you Aaron Meyer's dad?" Don't answer. Don't answer. Hang up.  Let it go.  Unbelievable. It's been 14 years and here I am. Writing in the same blog. The one I've tried and failed to quit. Tears. Snot. Head pounding. Teeth clenched.  Older, no less sad. Heartache, Grief never ends. The moments of reprieve grow wider.

With the sun setting behind me, the Cadillac turned the corner and disappeared with my son behind the church. When there's nothing more to see, and only the red tail lights, and vanishing car in my brain, I turned and walked into forever. Keep walking.

There are no stories with happy endings, unless you stop telling the story before the ending.