father and son
There were artifacts in my childhood that sustained me against a sea of trouble Shakespeare couldn’t have imagined. Music was one of those things that kept my heart buoyant through the storms. Tiny life rafts that opened up passages to secret, inner islands. Now, here I am, a father- listening to a son far away, thanks to gift of cell phones and media- carried on his raft of song. The silent suffering of parents estranged from family is almost bearable, if the song and voice doesn’t make you cry.
