he was trying to lift the hazyreturn to a kind of normalcy – who likes that – return from the reelingthe unexpected  difficult    death is difficult reversals are difficultchallenging  and holding his own counsel he preached to the choir  

but its the stuff of Life

the mornings black coffee an dates werent going to avert or rectify itnot the not-so-daily Irish whiskey either

in the wake of his stream-of-consciousnessthe brisk chat between his consciousness and unconsciousness it roiled and tossed from its bed indignant  spoiled  having to be reminded Youre in this too the bland dumb look on its face it was in it it couldnt be an ostrichits head suck in the warm loam even if it wanted Yah  yah yah yah UnderstoodGot it I got it

It getting it was always the huge first step 

his Unconsciousness played an enormous part of his Consciousness  largerhe thought  than most people

he made his Unconsciousness dress in a priests collarnot that he believed in priests or what they believed  rather that the white stiff collar chaffing its throat suggested a kind of sobriety and discretion  avowed silence  something to confide in that would have his best interesttheir best interest at heart

his Unconsciousness would always finally get around to be his best counsel he had to contend with its preliminary bullshit an harhar reminding him that humour is the best medicinethe best disinfectant the best rosecoloured glassesthe brick hurtled through the glass wall of the glass house his reality lived inside like a freshcleaned mirror  reflecting

his uncle died 

he refused a surgery to remove a brain tumor that was already removed

his uncle understood his death was imminent  

he did too

but death is always unexpected

his mother was hospitalised because she neglected herselfa neglect that was only exceeded by her unmitigated concern for his fathers physical circumstances which were always diceyhed never met a better craps player

his cousin revealed she had breast cancer her sister died late last year too late to her breast cancer to remediate it
rendered in twothree months  rendered awful  but appropriate

                                                                    those were heaped atop his daughters boithday celebration which he adamantly refused to step back or away from for the news that found them

hed deal with it tomorrow

today was tomorrow

he was dealing with it

Consciously

Unconsciously

reckoning

You can run but you cant hide.

Yadont run from a bear

even his eight year old granddaughter knew that You make yourself BIG. Right, Grampa?

he smiled secretly he made the obscene wish she would never have to make herself BIG stand pat

inevitably

       everyone does

1154,  Monday,  30  4. 18