Promises

I’ve been thinking about promises. . .

. . .  specifically the reprehensible kind.

If you make a promise and, upon reflection, realize that it’s not an honorable promise:  what is your responsibility then?  Keep it?  Regardless of it’s impact on others?

I’m not sure.

I’ve made some promises that I regretted.  Broken some that I shouldn’t have and some that needed breaking.  Had some broken that were made to me. 

Permit me some background on these thoughts. 

My mother painted a picture of the beautiful place where she placed her father’s ashes.  It meant enough to her that she memorialized it in color.  She pasted a detailed map on the back of exactly the vista where she consecrated him.  That says, to me, that the spot meant something for her.

The man to whom her husband entrusted everything they owned and her remains promised never to reveal where he interred her to our family.  Feels the definition of a reprehensible promise to me.  So, not only is that information lost to me.  It’s lost to my family forever.

Is that not the definition of reprehensible?

Grandpa's Spot

Dad's Touchstone

I sent my father a new Petoskey stone.   Some years ago I gave him one that someone I had helped gave to me.  He carried it in his pocket.  It was unpolished but Dad polished it, over time, just touching it. 


He recently lost it . . . I found him another. Mailing it made me think about my touchstone.  What brings me peace in the times when things are hardest?  


One of the best for me is his voice. It’s simply the sound of Dad’s voice.  Certainly, we disagree about many, many things.  It’s not what he says, more just the deep timbre and cadence of the way he talks. 


That voice has always been there and I followed it home. 


Once from the brink of blackness, that fuzzy edge where the world drops away.

Once from real blackness . . . . softly speaking to me in ICU.



Often, unknown to him, in the night when the aloneness reigns.


So, Dad has his new stone to polish, and as often as his fingers touch the stone to put it in his pocket, I will hear his voice in my head.