Leave Behind

Night 60.  Imagine.

Doesn't seem that long ago, in some ways, although so much has fundamentally changed in the interim.  The walks and meals and birthdays and melted snow.  The iced coffees and drives out to Grand-Digue and hours billed through Elite from this couch.  The evening CTV broadcasts and Trumpian press conferences, as we lift from bed to jazzy to chair and back.  The little insights, imperceptible and potent and gathering and true.  Zoom in, or you won't quite catch them.  To write them properly would be a betrayal and or a tonic.  Elderflower or Pink.

The recyclables today in the rain, and then the blue sky, the MMc walk and beginning of discussion about the stories.  Evaluation!  Heh.  "My one recommendation, protect your knees!" rings aloud.  Always time.  Timing on song all around, that bagpiper for Inch's whiskey day, the Venza pickup en route home, the Chapin on the deck as mist emerged from Dad's eyes for Corey and A Better Place, the Prime Rib to perfection.

"I trust those are prophetic words, Chancellor."
"They are...  a bottle? I've brought a barrel of 2309, there is no finer vintage!"

So says Martok.  Prophecy is for time travelers (future short story title, amazingly does not seem taken).  I have waited for this series conclusion to be the finale.  Through the Black Mirror and the Voyager and the Before Trilogy and the Stranger and the Invisible Man and the Criminal and the State of the Union and the Deadwater Fell and the Dead to Me.  At the last, DS9.  Maybe Darmok in a moment if you feel up to it. 

We have learned of the connection to the gold rush, Jimmy's potential illicit parentage on the other side, Mom's solicitation and identification of the line-up at age 6, the drowning of granddad's best friend chasing a dog before the war early on.  Dad's trip to Washington at age 14 as the trip up the Monument.  Other imperceptibilities.  Other tales amidst the cooking rituals.  So many hours billed from this very couch.  Alison can have it, but remember the Tequila spilt on it, and the sound of mom's soft sighs and snores.  As Dad wishes for her.  Always.  Hard to be a care-giver and a lover down through the years.  The frustrations and the jealousy and the madness of time and the chimes of the clock, the manufacturer out of business, the weights hanging down helping. 

Relationships beyond repair even as, maybe, not?  This idle was supposed to start with a trip to the Drakensbergs, cut short before it began.  A summit of import.  And so, in a way, it proved.

"How are you holding up, old man?"
"All things considered, think I'd rather be on Risa."
"Well, that makes two of us."

Worf - insisting on Minsk.  The series ends in the great link, disappointing to Jake and to us.  So a hone call across the seas.  Smiles.  Then the last of all the Netflix episodes.  And gilad.  Gilgamesh. 

"He who was my companion through adventure and hardship, is gone forever."

Sadness.  Fight.  Magic.  Power.  More.  Innocent's friends wanting a glimpse.  Hehehe.  As you plan a honeymoon of Zanzibar, Seychelles, Maldives, Sri Lanka, India, Nepal.  Make it so.  On this night of Sonnet #57 by Frakes.  Thank you Sunny.  Ha.  What is true, after all, and how?  Unconditionally. 

Safe drive.  Could be Cape Split in 12 hours, come what may...