Talk about cheaply monetizing on emotional ties that we claim in this world. If I buy a card and send it to you, would it make me a better person in your eyes? Maybe, though just maybe, it would be enough to safely put away in that store of things from me. Which only I am able to discover years later and realize that each little token of mine that meant practically nothing to me was a goldmine to you.
Generations of family come and go. Maybe some boisterous relatives, like historians, record these facts with dulled minds that are produced and reproduced many times over, ultimately overdone. The sensibilities of my world stumps me sometimes, but I can see now those morsels of unlikely sense in those baffling statements of yours.
Nancy and Frank had a way about it. Unlikely yes, but that's how we were, too.
So here goes, SK, to the funny words I sometimes say, and the funny ways you always answer. The world is doing this, and I feel left out tonight. I am feeling a bit dull and unproductive, dimmed vision stirred with blurred thoughts. It only takes a moment to change the season of the mind and I only have to move to the next track in the playlist to do so. I somehow dread saying these things in public, but it's a sort of scream that wants the world to know that while they're out doing what they do, I remember you now, more than ever and that the next simple, moronic letters I type spell out a Happy Father's Day to you.
