My son Ev is a young stupid naïve lad of 20-21. I say that with much love and affection. As a young man, as with ANY young man, he has with him a naivete that is part of his growing up and maturing. I did it, and did more than my share of stupid stunts.
Any young man does it.
Stupidity and immaturity are just part of the process.
That's him, above.
When my youngest brother was a kid, we were very close. Collected insects together on hot summer days. Played hockey in our basement, with him the goaltender, me the shooter. He grew tall, taller than me, and played goaltender on a hockey team, like our dad.
Played road hockey outside in the winter. Froze, but had fun.
I went on a trip overseas in 1977 or so at age 23-24, I think I was.
It was a bus excursion from Deal, England, overland through Belgium, what was then West Germany, Austria, what was then Yugoslavia, Greece, Turkey, Syria, Iraq, Iran, Pakistan and all over India and back through Afghanistan, the Middle East, Turkey, Syria, Germany, Bulgaria, The Netherlands and other countries I've already named.
https://maps.google.ca/?hl=en
Above is a link to a Google map that includes the countries I went to. I don't know how to put the map directly here or whether I even can.
My friend Dick and I -- Dick was from Toronto or Ottawa or Montreal as I recall and was battling cancer, I can't remember but THINK it was terminal -- left the tour in the Middle East and thumbed back to England, hitching a ride with a lorrie driver (trucker) from England.
I learned a lot about Dick's bravery. Dick wanted to do the unexpected. He wanted to test himself. An amazing young man who taught me much about doing your best to be strong, when you feel like giving up or crying.
But on to main recollection and the reason for this: In what was then called New Delhi, India, I received a chunk of mail from home. A letter from my Mom. From my grandmother, who lived with us, calling me in her customary way, with her French accent, an "Hasshole."
In it was a type-written short letter from Gerry. It talked about what was new with him and wished me well.
In it, kind of hidden, was a little phrase which made my heart warm: "I sure miss you."
No comments:
Post a Comment
Be critical. Disagree, if you want. But don't be abusive.