Le' move is almost complete...

Well, my father-in-law is almost moved in. For the first time in a while, I think everything might be okay. At times, I was a selfish pig of a guy. Sure, we all like privacy and that kind of thing, but sometimes you have to sacrifice what you love to exist. But what can you do, eh? I mean, he's given up everything to move. No more eight room house; no more drive way; no yard; no wife. The last thing wasn't a sacrifice, of course. But it's something he has to go without. It's times like these when I sit back and am able to see the nature of things. Life really has a progression to it. I remember a quote from Arthur Miller's Death of a Salesman. The wife said that life was "a casting off." And I understand what that means a bit better now. I guess, you spend your life accumulating things. You know, trust from your kids; love from your kids; junk in your house; a reputation and all of that. The thing is that you lose all of that crap in the end. We eventually become solo artists in some regard. Let's face it: your kid may love you, but she's gonna leave you someday. It's crazy...

One of the first experiences that I had with death happened in '82. That's when my grandmother died. I could remember where everybody sat. My pop, dad, mother, brother, and I sat up front, close to the casket. While all of her sisters and families sat back in the rows behind us. I didn't understand why that was. I remember asking my father why we got to sit up front while the poor siblings had to sit in the back. And he told me that that's how things worked. A parent cared more for her kid than anything, especially a mother. So, that's what gave us our premo seats. My grandma loved my dad.

That night, I remember not understanding any of it. My brother and I shared a room. I remembered thinking it wasn't fair that my grandma's sisters didn't get a chance to sit up front with us. Looking at Morgan, I couldn't comprehend the idea that something would one day come between us. Honestly, I thought it would be my brother and me forever. Inseparable, you know. I couldn't imagine having to sit behind a family he would create if he died before I; or worse yet, I couldn't imagine him sitting behind some future family that I would create if I died first. But that's what it is when you're seven, I guess.

Back to the move... I guess it's the role of the child to takeover at some point. I mean, you can't be the kid forever. It's my wife's duty to take her father in. What are the options? He's not the type of guy to go off to a nursing home. That would kill him. Truth is-- I owe him. He and his wife gave everything they had to that girl (my wife); and it's time to pay him back. In the end, I guess that's the only thank you that there really is. It's like-- I know there are gonna be hard times ahead, but I'll take them on. Sometimes, things are gonna be said that aren't meant; we're gonna have to learn that that's the way these things go. I mean, there aren't any classes for this type of thing. The kid never wants to be the kid again; the father never wants to become the child. But life happens, kid. It happens.

WHat is it that the Flight of the Concords say, "Love is like sticky tape?" Well, I hear that. We're all stuck together in the end. Love is a marathon after all.