The Baby Screams

Any moment now...

In just a second, there will be a flash and it will be all over. It will be hot but then we will be like cigarette ashes blown off a table. Anyone who doesn't die in the flash will be taken by a storm of fire that blows like the wind every fall. The fire will be put out eventually by poison rain and then it will be winter for a very long time.

Any second... if you wait for it, maybe you can find a way to hide.

I clearly remember staring out of the window of my third grade class in a north western direction for hours on end, oblivious to most of what was going on around me. In my mind, there was no way it could not happen. I envisioned the cold war much like a stand off between myself and my younger brother, which clearly meant that the person in the wrong would strike first. Fusion bombs would take the place of a hand full of mud and governments would argue like my parents did from time to time. There would be nothing I could do. We lived in a community that serviced a nuclear reservation that was created for the sole purpose of manufacturing weapons. In my mind, this made us a primary first strike target. My grandfather agreed with this bit of logic.

Of course it didn't help that I was fascinated by every facet of the technology involved. Fighter jets and bombers that could break the sound barrier, atoms split to heat homes and power video games. My grandfather and I used to go to airshows hosted by the military and marvel at what the cutting edge of science and physics had conjured up to keep America safe. Solid and finite, the logic behind such weapons seemed as strong as the resolve of those that kept up the stand off that was the cold war. I took some safety in that, but not much. I remember that year my mother asking where I went when I would stare off out the window. I know she thought I was day dreaming and sometime I was, but truth be told, I was always a little too shy to reply 'I was just wondering if there are Soviet children that are as afraid a I am.'

In the fourth grade, it was the concept of infinity that wrecked my mind. For hours on end, I would test human reasoning against the idea that there was truly no end to how we assign quantities and attempted to fathom the implications that this held. I would imagine, as I still do, the days of the year written one by one on register tape, the way my kindergarten teacher did and how it must loop back around. After years of mind numbing clashes between science and philosophy, I found a minor level of resolve in realizing that the only way it could be truth is if math is a human construct describing the indescribable.

I have to look at it like this: I can draw a tree. I can paint a tree. I can make a digital model of a tree in more ways that I can count. I can take a picture of a tree. I can write a description of a tree in two languages. But none of these efforts ever becomes the tree; the tree still is, despite my human efforts to understand and describe it. Some interpretations of the tree are more accurate than others, yet in the end, none are the tree. Even as philosophy will never quite know, science will never be certain, because they are both human constructs. 

I have struggled with depression fueled by thoughts like this for most of my life. While depression isn't exemplified by any one of these situations, the way my mind tends to battle with its self is; sometimes an overly noisy mind can lead me to very dark places. We are all hardwired to ask 'why' and for some reason, I have always taken that to extremes. When one can find no absolutes anywhere, there seems to be no reason for anything. What does it matter if I'd have drank myself to death in some drab apartment in southeast Portland, if I could rationalize no meaning out of life?

There have been times where I have looked in on others living there lives in a sort of ignorant bliss like one might find in a shopping mall. As an invisible bystander, I have watched the wooden smiles of others and peeked in through the glass at goods I could never enjoy, because I've known from a young age that the prize found in a solid piece of mind is elusive, intangible and yet it must be the foundation on which greater happiness is built. I used to wonder if if that was ever possible. For a very long time, I didn't think it was even a reality that other people truly stood in. Their fakery made me bitter, as I though them stupid for not waking up and looking further, for ignoring my inability to figure out what they pretended to know.

Not long ago, I wrote about a time when I was prompted to save my own life. My realization then, that we are only as secure as we allow ourselves to be, was an eye opener to be sure, but it would not be for several more dark years that I would come full circle and figure out what my problem was. While it's impossible to oversimplify such a personal journey, I am sure that my experience has a commonality on some base level with that of other's experiences only in the way that the stanzas of a poem rhyme. The peace that I've found will likewise may not be the answer for any one else.

But that isn't to say that there is never hope for anyone and that's the first step in the right direction.

昨日。今日。明日。即座に。永遠に。

Yesterday. Today. Tomorrow. Eternally. Instantly.

These are the words that come to mind when I am asked, by myself or anyone else about memories of my grandfather. It's been three years now since he left us, yet I know in my heart, he will never truly be gone. When I look at the better parts of myself, I see him. When I look out across a room filled with family, he is there. He's made sure that he will always be with us. That was his plan and out of all the great things that he was in life, being a good liar was not a skill he ever cared to master. I'll not make one of him now and I'll gladly challenge the person that tries, as far as they'd like to take the matter. People of less faith often speak of memory and experience as the definition of what it means to be mortal; the soul of the soul, if you will. Even when sterilized to such base terms, he is still very much here, now, with all of us, as planned.

I miss him so very, very much. I realize that this descriptor sounds very generic, but I have not the proper words to describe the sense of incompletion I drown in at times in his immediate absence. But when I ask myself what it is that so pine away for, my thoughts break. I've had a few dreams filled with his wisdom and love. I carry the marks of thoughtfulness and thoroughness he instilled on me. Everyday I endeavor to inch closer to being the well of patience that he was a shining example of. I've found that understanding 'why' is immeasurably more important than knowing 'how'. I've let my faith take me back to the place of peace and harmony that he always said it would be... still, something hides from me; maybe I hide from it. Instead of continuing to dance around it, I've written the following.


Dear Granddad,

Life has been well, as of late. I'm sure you know by now that I realize you were right about, well, everything. It's been a hard pill for me to swallow, even though I knew what had to be done. I also am well aware that you have no sympathy for that, but I can't help but feel like you get a kick out of the light bulb blinking on above my head. Maybe this was one of your favorite sports where I am concerned. In any event, things in life are starting to smooth out greatly. This is not to say that things are easy, because they are not, but each day, life gets better.

I guess just wanted to apologize for being such a prideful, hard headed kid. I've had to let go of that part of myself to make any kind of progress and, tell you the truth, it feels good. Frankly, they were skills that were misused. It's fine to be hard headed, if it means keeping a hold of your resolve and doing the best you can for a family you are proud of, and proud to do it. But you already knew that too. We all watched you do it and why I never got that lesson until now, I'll never be quite sure. Maybe I was a bit too spoiled, maybe I'm just a really late bloomer.

I know you didn't approve of much that I did as a young adult, but it seems you know me well enough to let me fall down far enough that I'd have to pick my self back up. It's my own foolishness that led us both to miscalculate exactly how far down that point actually was. I let a lot of people down in that fall and I know you're on the top of that list. I can't take any of it back, but I can do better.

Not many people know this, but when we rewired my brother's house, the time we spent working together was the first turning point in my life that I saw clearly. As we reworked the lighting circuit in the attic and you remarked that my workmanship had greatly improved, now that I was 'out in the wild'. I was glad you noticed. I was hoping that you would have. Later that day, we were discussing how to pull the new home run to the second floor bathroom and you asked me what my opinion was on how we should do it, I realized that for the first time in my life you genuinely wanted to know what I thought the best thing to do was. It wasn't a learning exercise, no seeing if I'd come up with what you already knew and it stands to this moment as the greatest compliment anyone has ever given me. I've let that kind of thinking and confidence lead my life these days and I realize, that was the lesson all along.

I could type all night of all that has happened since you've been gone, but I know you already know most of it. If you missed anything, just remember, I already admitted you were right. You always told me that I had so much potential, that I could do whatever I wanted in life and enjoy the rewards of it, as long as I am willing to do my part. The time for many of those opportunities may have passed by, yet  in leaving my foolishness behind, I've found that I am a good father, a devoted husband and man of more faith than I ever thought possible. Maybe I did choose the hardest of roads, but without the baggage, the view of the pass up ahead is beautiful. And underneath that crusty, opinionated drunk is the good, honest, hard working Mormon boy that I once was. And he still wants you to be proud of him, however rusty he is.

I'll see you as time goes by,

Zach B.

 

(originality posted Sept 9, 2013)

Number 13 Baby

I've been tasked with writing about some very personal things, by a third party that means very well. Fortunately, not much of that will make it into this arena. No, I am not going to apologize for leaving you all out of it. I am fairly candid when I write here, but some things are just too close. Besides, even if you really think you'd like to read about it, trust me, you don't. That said, Please don't think that what can be found here is trivial; I assure you, quite the opposite is true. They are dearly intimate, yet filtered as to not air dirty laundry or open any gaps where they don't belong. So to compromise while I work on some of these handy homework jobs, I though I might share the following.

The things that I am thankful for:

The people who inspire, care about and support me
Huckleberries
My ability to recognize errors in systems, including myself
My ability to love and cherish
The hard lessons that I have learned
Books
My hands that are actually my Grandfather's
My eyes that are my fathers
Blank sheets of paper
Forgiveness, even when it is hard won
My memory

It may seem silly to have list such as this, but truth be told, I carry this and things like it in my wallet and I review/revise them often. It's not that I forget any of these, but it seems that people have a need for physical reminders; they make thoughts real and solidify memory.

Another such device I carry with me, is a passage that I've come to accept as kind of a map to who and where I'd like to be as a person:

'We believe in being honest, true, chaste, benevolent, virtuous and in doing good to all men; indeed we may say that we follow the admonition of Paul - We believe all things, we hope all things, we have endured many things, and hope to be able to endure all things. If there is anything virtuous, lovely, or of good report, or praiseworthy, we seek after these things.'

What did you expect? The serenity prayer? Seriously, these words are a very Zen concept to me. In seeking these ideals and following that path, it isn't long before you can look around yourself and see the scenery along the way improve. I keep this in mind, especially during the hard times and sleepless nights.

(originality posted Dec 31, 2019)