Pirate Twins 14, again “Endgame”

Easter Sunday. My Lenten writing exercise, with a small break, is concluded. Personally, I’m happy with this re-edited version of my one and only allegory. I wonder what comes next?

On a personal note, I saw my eldest daughter back off to uni late this morning. My youngest is off to support the GAE on Thursday. I do not know when I shall see them again. Yes, it is Easter and Christ is risen… but I’m in a little hell right now.

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Pirate Twins, 4, again “Learning to Fly”

It’s nice to be able to rely on family. Humans in the West are so cut off from one another; I’ve talked with otherwise genius doctors who could not name their grandparents. Atomized. Adrift. Almost by design.

There was once a pharmacist who I, politely, made an example of. This was years ago, when ancestry.com was still pretty much free. I started in 17th Century England and clicked from one name to another, him watching next to me. Click, click, click. “And here,” I concluded, “is fifteen-year-old me standing next to my mother’s mother.”

Almost four hundred years of family. This clever guy could not fathom it. I encouraged him to look into his family but I don’t think anything came of it. Sad. We should not be alone.

That’s enough talking; I’m still moody. Let’s see what Georgie can do.

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