Peace be unto you. Unto you be peace. I miss sitting with my son and watching a movie. The Book of Clarence? Braxton’s favorite girl, and I watched that. But can I still afford streaming memberships? Such despair at being broke. “To B At Peace.”
Monday, April 21, 2025
Meditation 294 ~To B At Peace~
Hey Dad,
It’s Me, Baby B… “Can you feel that? Ah, sh*t. Ooh, wah-ah-ah-ah!” I’ll leave the singing to you, my father. I still bark.
But not now. You used to say that my barking said more than most humans. And at least when I barked, I was helping you out. We agree that most humans make too much noise. There are exceptions to that. My favorite girl, the future stepmom I never met. Cherry.
And what about my little brother, Virgil? I wish you so many things, my father. Somehow, someway, someday, today, I want you to be at peace. I wish you peace. Peace be unto you, my father. I know I’m getting a bit preachy. A little biblical… Like father, like son. But neither of us would be found in a church. Yesterday was Easter. So, dinner…
You know me. Food always made me feel better. Until…
Um that’s not what I came to talk to you about now. My resting in peace and all. No dad.
How can I sleep when I can feel it all the way from here? The Rainbow Bridge? Elysium or whatever. That big bed in the middle of our sunny backyard with food on every side.
Your depression and the danger you wake up to when you head to that bad place. You said that’s how you got me those fried golden sticks. But now what you feel the most is DESPAIR. What’s one more human word? You would cuddle me and tell me so many.
But peace? Even if I don’t understand it, I have seen it, my father, last night as Virgil cuddled you.
And all those nights we would spend with my favorite girl watching the glowing box.
There were the days after you came from the bad place and fell asleep. And as you closed your eyes you’d watch me sitting at the corner of the bed. You’d come to no harm.
However, when it was your turn, I’d sleep on your heart as you read books. And there were all the times I would lay on my pillow at your feet, and you’d write your stories.
There were days you would breathe afterward as if the greatest task ever was done. Sometimes, you’d kick me out to do “whatever,” watching certain things. You’d be finished, clear. Always unto you be peace, Dad. To B At Peace
“Why don’t we have a word for the utterance between laughing and crying?”
Peter Heller, The Dog Stars
“Because your question searches for deep meaning,
I shall explain in simple words”
― Dante Alighieri, Inferno
1541 Days Without B III, Day 982 of Virgil’s Arrival
Always and Forever,
Your Son
