Tomfoolery

Late at night. Can't sleep. Body wants rest. Mind says no. Maybe writing will help. Do I feel the need to say something? So far, obviously, nothing profound.

Too awake to sleep. Too tired to make most of time. Wish I knew what to do with the moment.

Waiting...
Waiting...

I got nothing. But I like the silence. So rare.

Hold on. Maybe a little trivial insight coming?

Nope. Just a belch.

C'mon Mr. Sandman, send me a dream. Make me the blah, blah, blah. This is going nowhere. Always this internal pressure to make every second some deep philosophical epiphany. Rarely happens. Assuming it ever has.

So here I sit. Clock ticking. Night enveloping. Brain running on fumes. Need sleep to gas up the tank. Start fresh in the morning.

Enough of this.

Wait. Wait a second. Yep. I've got it. This is good. Should prove extremely helpful. Here it is:

Strong black coffee, French toast, and real maple syrup could very well save the world.

In Briefs

I sit before the computer in my underwear. Boxers actually. Never briefs. A man needs to live free I say! Free!

But that's not why we're here. A few people have asked if I was ok, because sometimes I don't post here for several weeks. The truth is I'm not ok. But that's usually what prompts me to write in the first place. Lately however, I've had a bit of writer's block. My brain struggles to find words, to find the thread of a feeling or emotion. So many things swirling in my head.

And so many things to do. Some days it feels like I don't get anything done, writing or otherwise. Don't even get around to putting on clothes. A small luxury for those of us on disability. Fatigue is always a factor too. Writing often feels like a wrestling match, and I struggle to find the energy.

Not to worry however. I'm keeping plenty busy. More tomfoolery, ballyhoo, and news of a very special project to come shortly.

Kiss and Tell

My daughter gave me a kiss for the first time yesterday.

The three of us were playing around on the bed in her room. Eva was being her usual giggly self before bedtime. One of my favorite times of day. I suggested that she give 'Big Bear' a hug, referring to her stuffed teddy. He's about twice her size. She pounced on him, a big grin on her face, and then rolled over into my arms. Kirsten said, "Eva, can you give Daddy a kiss?" I'd been asking her for a few weeks. She put her hands on my chest, leaned in, and gave me a big, drooly kiss on the cheek.

I nearly cried with joy. Instead I burst out laughing, pulled her closer, and kissed her back. It was an incredibly tender moment that I will never forget.

I am as lucky as any father alive.