The night seems all encompassing as I try to find a sleepy bone. Nothing, so far. I feel both restless and exhausted, as I haven’t slept much in a few days. Even so, my eyes are wide open and I cannot bear the thought of succumbing to dreams of evil people doing their wicked deeds.
This day has been a long one. I’ve been looking into my heritage and have found some interesting things. Mostly, I’ve found my ancestors to be a very determined group of individuals who seemed able to look beyond the struggle to the reward. Very few yankees, thank goodness. I couldn’t face life with a family tree full of those horrid creatures.
Honestly, I’ve never cared much for genealogy. We are who we are, here and now, and it does not matter who went before us. If we don’t live up to a high standard of morality and good character, nothing from the past will save us. The reason I began this lil investigation was that I’ve been very curious about my biological father’s family. So far, that endeavor has been a series of dead ends. No tiny leaf at the corner of any of the names of those who I’ve managed to find on his side of the family. I wish it weren’t so. I know that my paternal grandmother was quite something. Nothing nice…but, quite something, no less. She was a frightening red headed woman; an alcoholic who was sexually promiscuous. My paternal grandfather tolerated her. A very tall, large, man, it’s said that he was kind to a fault. He obviously loved my grandmother enough to overlook her…flaws…as they were married till the day he died.
With the exception of a few notes, here and there, I still can’t get much of a feel for what made my ancestors tick. As I stated, it seems as though they were a hearty group, overall. But, I do know of a few wild vines growing on my family tree. To this day, my family is made up of the crazy and determined, as well as the good as gold types. Nothing really changes much with people, generally speaking, much less with families. I suppose that’s why God can curse us up to a thousand generations. After the first couple of generations pass, those curses simply become some sort of warped family trait. They can be seen on and on, throughout one’s lineage, and are as predictable as the sunrise. It makes me wonder if we might actually be the same people as those gone before; reinvented and newly faced…living out our curses and blessings as we’ve done all along. Or, maybe we are all singular beings, born once to flesh, then on to eternity. I suppose there’s only one way to find out and I’m not ready for that just yet.
I’ll be seeing my dad in a couple of weeks. I can’t wait. That old man is everything to me. I know his days are growing shorter, though. Also, I know that I will be lost without him in my world. I can’t begin to imagine what life without him will be like. So, I don’t. But am increasingly aware that I should prepare for his end. His hip is hurting him. He’ll be going to the doctor Monday, next. I pray it’s only arthritis, which is bad enough. Mom is going to get him a walker tomorrow. He won’t use it any more than he uses his cane. He’s a Marine, after all. They don’t tend to go down easily, and they are notorious for loving the difficult path. That just never goes away, no matter how old they get. The Corps is for life. Maybe even forever. Wouldn’t that be something? I think my dad would be pleased as punch to arrive at the Pearly Gates and see his hero, Chesty Puller, there to greet him. If there isn’t a Heaven just for Marines, there damn well oughtta be!