I feel like I’m on an island here–delving into thoughts of family and society and reflecting on both what I’m experiencing in my life and what I’m witnessing through the magic of fiction.
It feels like the world moves as the oceans do–great waves of action generated by small currents but building upon each other in a torrent of likeness until a simple action becomes a movement. I remember first thinking this at the start of the Arab Spring and then again when this wave of populism and insular racism kicked off around the world. These are the large waves; the Tsunami’s that reshape worlds. I am writing today about smaller flows even similar data points in a sea of difference that make me look up and say, wait…
I’ve watched several shows and listened to several books as of late where the protagonist is alone in the world. By alone I mean s/he has no family and is attached to someone else’s family–finding family in that grouping. Michelle Obama’s book speaks of Barack in that fashion after his Grandmother died. He was alone. Many other titular characters are alone. I am becoming more and more isolated in that same fashion. I have attachments and I am grateful for them, but in the sense of having a family of my own I am largely reduced to one family member that I am connected to and the kids that I have. When I and my remaining parent pass on they will have nothing left to signify this side of the family. I cannot imagine anything more sad than that.
Some Thoughts:
- Just another morbid Monday. Call it hangover from Sunday. That was not a fun day. It was an–Okay. I’m not going to riff off that song any longer. Or ever again.