Two hours spent reading, crying for most of it, reading two chapters, two stories, of reuniting, hope, tragedy. A third chapter about adventure.

I sometimes think about what I’d hope people would say about me if I died. In terms of recent reading, this catalyzes a retrospective look at the value of my life. Would I want people to describe drunken parties, or how I touched their lives?

I look over at two photos, one of each of my parents. Both are from Lunkasoos. One is of my mother standing on a snowy dock awaiting the plane with baggage and propane tanks. The other is of my father, with his sleeves rolled up standing on a early camp deck there.

I’d only seen him years later when he was worn down by life. Look at him. He’s got his whole life in front of him and I’m not even a glint in his eye.

Though I know I’ll never lose affection
For people and things that went before
I know I’ll often stop and think about them
In my life I love you more

Sometimes I’m sad about the things that never got to happen. Sometimes J and I talk about the love lost, about connection that never got a chance to be.

When what it was was that suddenly,
The music was all gone.
And this man and this woman got cut off,
In the middle of our song.

There’s a flash of optimism in there.