ditto

Hang in there Jon. Let Sam stitch it all back up for you, you just keep walkin’ the days. 🙏

Hey Jon u need a hug. Fly a sign. Full of Love outta luck. It’ll help ya it helped me. Much love 💗

I have a father who raised me and my siblings as if we were poetry that he was writing; the goal being to make us turn out as beautiful and inspiring as he possibly could. My entire childhood was filled with unconditional love and a constant stream of music in a warm, nurturing environment that cultivated honesty, altruism, compassion, creativity and the use of our imaginations. When I was a little boy, I fell off my bike one day. Skinned up my knee, hand, elbow and forehead pretty badly. Started crying, and some other kids on the block started making fun of me for doing so. I told my dad about it while he was cleaning my wounds, expressing my embarrassment that these kids saw me crying. He came back with something like, “Oh Michael, don’t let those boys get under your skin. I assure you, they cry too. All kids do. And it’s nothing to be ashamed of. Crying is one of the body‘s natural ways of healing itself. You’re a tough kid. No crybaby, that’s for sure. So don’t worry about it. When you need to cry, do so. Because one day, when you grow up and become a man…it’s going to be very difficult for you to cry. And sometimes you will miss being a boy, back when crying came so easily.” I wasn’t able to wrap my head around what he was telling me. I asked him, “How could it possibly be difficult to cry? It’s difficult NOT to cry! So like…you NEVER cry? Even when you get really sad or when you cut yourself really bad or break your bones? You will cry then, won’t you?“ He smiled at me, “No, probably not. But there are some things that can occasionally make me cry, if I open myself up and allow them to.” “Like what?” “Like beautiful things. Something that’s so beautiful and touching it moves me to tears. Like a very beautiful poem or song.” Now I was even more confused. This truly made absolutely no sense to me, at that point in my life. And I told him as much. He just smiled at me again, put his arm around me and pulled me into his chest for a hug. He kissed the top of my head and let out a sigh, saying, “I don’t know why it’s so difficult for a man to cry. It just is. I wish I was able to do it more often. I’d probably feel a lot better, during difficult times, if it wasn’t so difficult. One day you’ll understand. You were going pretty fast when you fell. I’m glad you’re ok. I love you, Miko.” Of course, he was correct. And this song is a perfect example of what he was talking about. Btw, my dad was a singer-songwriter, same folk genre. All three of his sons turned out to be singer-songwriters, too. I have played/sang this song HUNDREDS of times, by myself, alone in my living room. But I’ve never played it live. Because I can’t get through it. Even after hundreds of times. I always get choked up at some point. Because it’s just that fucking beautiful. The words in this song are so deeply moving to me, so magically poetic, that I just can’t help it. The same thing happens to me when I read the poetry of Kahlil Gibran. I can also describe it as this feeling I get that I find to be present in moments like…when I am personally connecting with an audience/know that I am giving a powerfully touching and emotionally cathartic performance. Or like…when I first reach the summit of a mountain I’ve spent days climbing up, and gaze out over the world from that spot. Or say…when a dangerously aggressive dog that I have been rehabilitating for weeks finally allows me to pet him. Such moments are so filled with beauty that I feel some thing which might be best described as the touch of God. And I write that, as an atheist. Because the only proper response when you’re so overwhelmed by beauty that you feel the touch of god - is to allow that touch to run its naturally intended course through my being, eventually exiting itself in the tears that drop from my eyes. This song is so beautiful that it almost always makes my eyes swimmy when I listen to it. So when the pain inside reaches a point where I feel like I am starting to succumb, and something HAS to break - I listen to this song. So that I can cry. And allow my body to heal itself…even if it’s only enough to prevent any further progression to succumbing. Because of this, the trapeze swinger will always make me think of my father when it’s serving as the soundtrack to my grieving. You wrote the common time responding to six months ago. I hope the sun has risen for you since then, Jon.

@@K9MikePerfectly phrased, you certainly have a talent for storytelling. You can be proud of your wise, empathetic and loving father. Even though I was constantly fighting with mine I still miss him. He was a talented painter and artist who turned our house into an art exhibition of all kinds of styles and categories but from early on his family forced him into a job that bored him so badly that he developed a bad drinking habit. Even though he often vented his anger and frustration on us, he should have had the chance to follow his own path in life.

He attacks other versions. This one is gentle, and perfect. I also visit it often, when times are the worst.

The tastiest dog ever

Matt It feels like a little piece of poetry what you put in here. Capturing, beautiful and rare!

Praying for you brother🙏🏼. Keep feeling…

Hear you, brother.

His imagery in his writing & his phrasing is so incredible.