Nov 29, 2013

Just Killing Time

When I dropped out of law school and chose drinking over university - I felt a weird feeling that I was somehow letting my grandparents down and becoming a loser.

Even to this day I can still see the stupid fucking tartan coat they stood by me as I tried it on at a local dressmakers joint and was all awkward and uncomfortable in the hot summer heat.  A chunky tartan coat I didn't fit after a summer of swimming and drinking hardcore like a lazy seventeen year old.  And it sat lonely and pressed and clean and waiting sor some never to happen court appearnace because I couldn't afford a car.  Or was too scared to drink drive.

But my grandparents had always held a grudging nothingness about being successful - and my own personal resistance was just another sort of way of holding out from them.  To this day, 2013, they are withering quietly in some under-staffed nursing home and completely unable to acknowledge the birth of any of my three children.

Like I should somehow make the first move - and be the more humble and accepting and open to them when they have failed so completely with their own dead twin brother and unborn foetuses.

Just killing time.

And forgiving Betty and Ray.  And Margaret and Patrick.

All is forgiven but looking back it is not forgotten yet - perhaps when I am sprinkling dust or whatever over your grave hole - perhaps then there will be some forgiveness.

Perhaps then, with the sprinkling.