Carys Comma

Carys, 

 My dad was great. I mean he was great within his circumstances. He raised three boys without much help, and did so while having no idea what he was doing. I can relate. I have no idea what I am doing. 

My parents divorced when I was young. I think that I was five years old. It is all fading - the timeline. When I was seven, my mother was murdered. 

My dad had to deal with all of that. Yikes. 

Dad knew no other way to deal with things other than hard work. He worked himself to the bone when I was young. Thank god for my grandmother. She was able to keep us boys fed and clothed while dad was out working manual labor fourteen hours a day - killing himself. 

He didn't know what else to do. Working was all he knew. I imagine the work helped with the stress of dealing with all that his boys were struggling with. He provided. He kept us alive. Beyond provision, he struggled to provide. 

And I understand that now. 

I understand how tempting it is to see parenting as an economic challenge. Parents are so acutely aware of the reality of deprivation - we have to keep the kids alive! But, children need so much more. They need 

grace

love

relationship

security

hope

support

and so much more. 

When I look at you, when I talk to you, I see how much I have parented like my father. 

But, he was a great dad... within his circumstances. I can only hope to be such. 

I should like to be better. So would my dad. 

Caedmon Comma

Caedmon, 

I was wasted. I had just come out of surgery, and you were the appointed 18 year old adult that could pick me up and make sure that I didn't die on the way home. I was drugged and due to the surgery, I was unable to speak in a comprehensible way. However, I remembered the anxiety that I took with me into the surgery. I remembered the message that I would have wrote to you. I remembered what I wanted to tell you before I went under into an unknown future. 

Unfortunately, I could not voice it. I could not say it. 

So, while you drove me home, I asked an AI chat to do it for me. It seemed urgent, but drugs were involved. Here is what me and the AI came up with:

 There is something I need you to know before you go, and I need you to carry it with you.

What you are about to walk into will be the loneliest experience of your life. That is not me trying to scare you — it is me respecting you enough to tell you the truth. There will be nights that feel endless. Moments when you wonder why you chose this. Times when everything in you wants to come home.

And you will get through every single one of them.

Not because it will be easy. But because of who you already are — even if you can't see that yet. The strength that is going to carry you through those hard nights? You brought it with you. It has always been yours.

When the world feels far away and the distance feels too great, remember this: home is not going anywhere. It is here. I am here. Waiting — not with worry, but with pride that has no bottom to it.

Go. Be brave. Be hard when you have to be, and let yourself feel it all when you need to.

And know that no matter how far you go, you always have a place to come back to.

Always.

I didn't write that. Claude did. However, somehow, weirdly... I mean every word.  

Your Dad

Caedmon Comma

We are more than we define ourselves by. We are more than our definition. When we look for more than what we more, is it because we are not aware of how much we have? 

 What does it mean to lose track of time? There is no tomorrow. There is no yesterday. There is only the present moment. How can we lose it? It is all there is.

Find yourself in the present moment, son. Know who you are in the now. Not who you will be someday. Not who you were in the past. No now. 

If you can find satisfaction and joy in the now. You have found it in eternity. 
 

"There is no path to happiness. Happiness is the path"

Carys Comma

I'm here. I've got you. That is what I whisper as I hold you in our small circle of light.

The shadows outside the circle are vague. They dart and weave through darkness.

We hear them out there. They whisper and hiss. Is it language they use, or is it just the guttural sounds of predation?

I can sense your tenseness, your concern, as we grip each other and will the darkness away. But, the darkness persists, the shadows harry our circle. 

You are crying now. What is it?

I don't know. Just hold on.

But, I soon sense the rising intensity of the darkness - the danger.

Suddenly, a streak of darkness darts into the light. It envelops you and yanks you away. I try to grip harder and so do you. But, the darkness overcomes us, pulling you away. I hear your scream fading into the darkness.

I go to chase you, but stop at the edge of the light. I look all around, panicked. Desperation is filling my mind. My sanity is losing its hinges. I feel compelled to run headlong into the dark. I feel compelled to search for you, find you, and bring you back to this safety, to this circle.

Yet, I remain. I do not run into the darkness. I do not brave the wild shadows.

Instead, I sit. I begin to pray.

From time to time, I stand and look all around as far as I can see. I do this over and over. I sit and pray, then stand up and peer all around through the darkness. I will continue to do this and I do not know how long.

But, I hope.

I hope that one day I will see, somewhere in the dark, a small circle of light bravely piercing through.

... 

Caedmon Comma

We unknowingly veer from our best and from what is best for us. We sometimes drift off course, even while searching for destination. Perhaps, we just snooze at the wheel. Whatever the case, we end up at a place foreign and uncomfortable.

We forget that which is meant to guide us. We forget the navigational beacons that populate our lives and our souls.

When they are working, these beacons point us toward the best places for us. They show us the way through dangerous travel and assist us in finding the destinations that we need. When we leave these beacons, or ignore them, we find peril or hardship.

At times, it may be necessary to leave the guidance of the beacons. At times, you may have to explore the wild places beyond safety. There, you will experience toil, loss, and bewilderment. You will grow weary from facing the challenges and you will long for better places, for safety.

Remember, you can always go back. You can always find those beacons and follow them back to the path you once knew.

And when you do, we will be waiting and joyful with your return,

Dad