Henry Strayer
the beginning of a good book, a book that holds all my successes and
failures are just a chance to get better is what I’m told by friends and
family are too busy to really care, they just pretend by smiling and
laughing comes in gales, uncles and aunts and grandparents giggling and
trying to see the humor in the grim affairs of the funeral service and
the reception after is a party, finger foods and juice for the kids and
former alcoholics who make up a formidable percentage of this and
every other family must be just as happy as we are, at least I hope and
pray that there’s a better way to do things, but statistical analysis and
my own intuition says that everything will get better if we wait and
pretend to believe that the future won’t be like the past, twisted and
beautiful trees border the parking lot as we say our goodbyes and
make promises we can’t keep, all of us in a hurry to go, to leave and
begin a long drive home, the nighttime sky pleasant shades of black and
blue like my cousin’s back I saw at the reception as he was running and
jumping like a star football athlete, maybe he has the determination and
drive he needs to break free from the cycle we’re still a part of, him and
all the rest of us are a family filling the pages of photo albums and
family portraits can make anyone look good, even the obscene and
grotesque parts of our history can be forgiven because love and
kindness is in such precious short supply we may as well forget and
forgive is good advice to try and follow, to rise above the past and
everything that it represents will hound you for the rest of your life and
your future is what you make of it, stretching out like a fresh start and