On May 19, 2005, at 12:42 AM, I wrote:
He said, joking, "Was I worth it?"
My answer, immediate, was "yes."
Yes.
To amplify, in the picosecond between his question and my answer, every torment I had ever lived, every horror I had endured, every bullying I'd ever faced was forgotten.
In the space of a breath, in the space of a breath, in the space of a breath, my frustration, anger, sorrow and sense of loss at being back here, in Kingman, was shot to flinders. The town that had nearly killed me. And it was gone. Gone, do you see?
The boy I had been, uncertain, fatherless, lost in a sea of feelings that needed beacon; the starry evenings I'd sworn this night, this night, I will not be lost; the words I did not have as a boy but saw so clearly, so clearly as a man; these were no longer open sores; in that single instant, in that question -- why am I here, why are you, why are we -- it was closed, reconciled, healed.
Fifteen years -- FIFTEEN YEARS! -- of bottled rage at my old confining town, ten more at the release, I dropped, forgot, turned from.
Why?
I think I know, and those who have kids probably do too.
So, yes. Yes, he was worth it.
Do you see?
There are many things I do not understand, and there are so few things of which I am certain.
I think that's probably a good thing.
I hate this town. I hate it. But I love this kid and, as long as he needs me to be, I will be here for him.
-- Warren Ockrassa, Publisher/Editor, nightwares Books http://books.nightwares.com/ Current work in progress "The Seven-Year Mirror" http://www.nightwares.com/books/ockrassa/Flat_Out.pdf
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