Distance and Silence

Dearest Rachel –

Sunday mornings are a challenge for me these days. Well, every morning is a bit of a challenge, but the weekend is particularly difficult. While I think I’m starting to get accustomed to the fact that the bed – and the room – are empty apart from myself, and you’re not going to pop into the bathroom while I’m showering and join me, there’s the fact that I’m not sure where to go with the day – or when. At least on a weekday, I can make myself breakfast and head out across town to my ‘office’ at the folks’ place. Today, I could head out for the first service, but that depends on whether Daniel is up. And, like with you, I’m loathe to wake him up when he’s still asleep. After all, I don’t know how long he’s been like this, and how much sleep he still needs.

At least, in your case, you pretty much gave me express permission to wake you after a certain time – more so, of course, on days when I needed to be there early in the booth. This isn’t one of those days, so the first few hours of the day are spent aimlessly trying to figure out what to do while I wait for nature to take its course.

I guess the nice thing about having gone through the house and cleaned it up, is that I have a few places where I can keep my distance from Daniel, and do whatever I like without worrying about disturbing him. The couch he sleeps on is literally as far away from the stairwell as you can get in this house; whatever noise I make won’t carry far enough to wake him.

Not that I do anything noisy; even if I were to watch a video or two up here, I have my headphones on, so that noise won’t go any further than the space between my ears. Sure, I could watch something in the man cave, but why push matters? More often than not, I’m just catching up on the news – which I probably shouldn’t do, as it’s just distressing. Granted, at least there’s very little in the news for me to take personally, but it probably doesn’t do me any favors – if nothing else, it’s not like I’m going to have any discussion fodder between Daniel and myself from anything I glean.

Once upon a time – and you probably would remember this – Dad and I would debate certain topical matters of import. It was a friendly, which sharpening affair, since we were basically on the same page. It was one of the many things I enjoyed about our weekly family meals after the Sunday service – although once our niece got into college and would come back with her own opinions, it got a little more tense. She didn’t quite get the fact that what sounded like an argument was more along the lines of discussion, and took a much more adversarial position in her attempts to join the debate.

That same lack of understanding applies to Daniel, although, from his perspective, it flows both ways. I think Dad and I were of the opinion that nothing could be done – he has reminded me several times in the last few months about a comment I made back in college myself about an incident on the road, when he was driving me there (or maybe it was home from there), and we were passed by a convoy of cars going at what seemed to be a hundred miles an hour. Apparently, one of us picked up on the fact that the license plates indicated that they were government vehicles, and he was struck by my response, “They just make the laws, Dad – they don’t have to follow them.” I don’t know what wounded him more – the fact that his son was such a cynic (despite all of his efforts to raise me otherwise), or the fact that I was right to be one. Over thirty years later, it still sticks with him; although, in fairness, it’s gotten that much more true over time.

Meanwhile, Daniel thinks that everything will change, and the Lord will strike down all the malefactors in government, and soon. And since everything he talks about is in the future, I can’t argue with him one way or another. I certainly can’t tell him that God can’t do things like that – I suspect I’m treading on thin ice to even say He won’t – but I can’t see things happening the way he sees them doing so. Even the current situation in Canada shows how little he understands how nations work (although we, as Americans, aren’t expected to understand the civic functions of other countries – heck, we’re barely expected to comprehend how our own government functions); the fact is, the PM could be recalled at any time by a vote of ‘no confidence’ in Parliament. The fact that it’s not even being discussed suggests that’s not going to happen, no matter how authoritarian he acts towards those who are protesting against the current mandates (which, I should point out, are falling in state after state, and province after province. You’d think it would be a simple matter to just hear the truckers out or something; at least appear to be reasonable before saying ‘no.’ But no, that’s not happening either).

Anyway, I’m sorry to keep bringing politics up in these letters; it seems there’s no avoiding the subject in life anymore. It’s part of why, even once he wakes up, I stay up here, silent, in my office, while he listens to some Sunday service being broadcast from some church in Alabama, where the preacher (who calls himself a ‘prophet,’ natch) rails against the governmental systems in place and what God is going to do to them soon. As if God was truly concerned with nations and empires; they’re only transitory (just like we were promised about inflation). One day, everything and everyone we think of as important will just be a name kids struggle to remember from their history books, if even that. One day, they will be looked at from the distance of time, when they have all fallen silent but for the historical analysis, and it won’t matter to any of them what the verdict of future generations will be.

Personally, I can hardly wait for that day.

Published by randy@letters-to-rachel.memorial

I am Rachel's husband. Was. I'm still trying to deal with it. I probably always will be.

2 thoughts on “Distance and Silence

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: