It has a been...a quiet time. A Dreamtime.
For the First Fans - we have lost three in sixty days.
The Big Man was the first to go. He taught me more about parenting then my own Father did.
The next was Her Mom. She needed the dependent care but in the end, She would always been the disobedient person that She was, in need of oversight at all times, and needing saving when there was no oversight. She wanted to make Her own decisions, and that is why She has gone.
The third, I did not not know well, but Her loss punctuated the generational gap.
There is a child that will be born this year, a child that will be the first (known) grandchild to me.
...and suddenly, the stories I should have written have now become the stories that will be told to a young child. The stories that they will hear of the Big Man, Large Marge and another, will no longer be coming from the lips of those people, but will be regaled by story tellers.
The aboriginal people of Australia speak of the Dreamtime, to explain the landscape of the land, and the history of their people. And I will speak of the Dreamtime in the technological era, of the people that came before the child, and of what the child meant to those people.
I wonder if my own children will tell the Dreamtime story of their Father to their children?