Wednesday, October 12, 2011

Fields of Gold

Many years have passed since those summer days
Among the fields of barley
See the children run as the sun goes down
Among the fields of gold


Apropos of nothing, before you read any further (or instead of reading any further), read this. I care not whether you are a Yankees fan, a Red Sox fan or even a Marlins fan, if you are a dad and/or a son and baseball has ever been a tie that binds you to your father or to your son, then this piece is kind of, sort of written in your voice. Simply beautiful stuff.

No matter how old we are, no matter whether we have ourselves become a parent, we never cease being our parents' child. I am in my mid-40's, married, a father of two young adults and fairly well established in what it is I do to earn my daily bread. Yet, I am forever my mother's son. And more than that sometimes, I am forever my mother's little boy.

A little boy whose ability to bring about any substantial change is almost non-existent. A child rendered impotent by the situation then and there facing him. It has been that sort of week in the lives of us Kenny children. By all accounts it shall continue to improve. Slowly. But it shall.

I never made promises lightly
And there have been some that I've broken
But I swear in the days still left
We'll walk in fields of gold
We'll walk in fields of gold


-AK

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