Saying To Your Child…

        I’m reminded of an experience most of us as parents similarly can recall. When you’re awakened in the middle of the night by one of your kids, who’s upset because they imagined a bad person being in the room with them. “Daddy, I’m scared there’s a bad man in the room, he’s hiding in the closet.” Naturally, as a Father, I was always ready, willing, and able to do the right thing. I was her hero coming to the rescue; after all, Dads are never afraid of anything. Quickly, I turned on the lights, looked around the room, and then followed her instructions by opening and going inside the closet in order to show my seven-year-old she was safe. In our case, that wasn’t the end of it. She insisted I remain in the room until she fell back to sleep. So, I tucked her in and snuggled up alongside figuring it would only be a few minutes, and I could go back to my bedroom for what was left of the night. I had no intention of spending the evening crunched in like a sardine while being a newfound companion to a stuffed monkey alongside me. But, during this instance, the next voice I heard was that of my wife standing, there in the bedroom, waking up the two of us for breakfast. It must have been a funny sight to behold. It’s one of those times when you wish there was a picture of the incident to remember it by.
        By now, during the course of the last fifty-some years—those of you out there who may have stumbled on to yours truly (Da Harv), while ensconced comfortable, or less than such, within our specific area of “La La” land—you may have noticed a thing or two written by me as I labored to travel forward against the grain of life often less than cordially presented by me. 

Note: I write long sentences because that’s the way my thoughts work, conversationally, and the pattern by which they (the thoughts) pop in and out of my head.
Many years ago, I was labeled as an abstractionist. Quite frankly, I really don’t understand the label—I’m inclined to believe most people don’t truthfully understand the meaning, as well. Those people are often heard complaining to a group or partner in a conversation, how they are being misunderstood because they’re not able to think in the abstract. Translation: It’s a way of downing those folks as being too stupid to understand their scope (kind of what so many politicians are guilty of).

I draw my subject matter from a great deal of the time from the past for two reasons:
1. The pain of the past often provides me a reason to laugh, and even celebrate about, as I reflect.
2. Reflections almost always provide me with refreshments. It’s what the truth does for me.

        So, with the daily happenings we all live with, finding a good honest way to smile may be as good as it gets. Thinking back to, and visualizing myself jammed into my little kid’s bed, the expression of great overblown seriousness on my wife’s face as we together awaited my response to our seven-year old’s question at the breakfast table: “Will you stay with me again tonight, Daddy? I feel safe when you do.”

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