When I was young and the brilliant azure of the ocean lapped at my toes
When I was older and at your glare the blood in me froze
When I was older still and I learned to evade
The chill threat of your proclamations
This emancipation has been with me since.
It would take very much to convince me that I am not alive.
It would take very much to teach me that
something is no longer worth living for.
And it would take ever so much more to tear the wind from these lungs.
And last night, it did.
Steven's depiction of his grandfather, doped up on morphine and half-paralyzed in the hospital last week was:
"He doesn't seem to understand how ill he's supposed to be. :-)"
I want that to be said of me in sixty-odd years. (I know at least, that they WILL be odd years)
Steven, my heart is with you today, and I grieve not so much for illness or death, but that someone so brave, and at least partially responsible for your birth, is no longer with us.
But I'm never going to forget him, and I'm sure - neither will you.
See you not too long from now, granpda,
Namaste,
Monstre.