The Distance Between Years
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I don't know why I was thinking of him while painting this picture. I don't think of him often but when I do it is never a good thing. I may have told the story before but I was thinking about that moment again and it reminded my of why we haven't spoken in many years. I was a senior in high school and there was no talk of college with him because the only place I wanted to go to was art school and he could not wrap his head around art school and for some reason he took me to McDonalds and I sat across from him eating a hamburger and as we talked I got the sense that he didn't like me very much. I think it was because I wasn't saying the things that he wanted to hear. "What do you want to do with your life?" he asked. "I want to go to art school." I took a bite of my hamburger. My long hair covered my eyes. "What are you going to do at art school? What good will that do you?" I was too afraid of him at that time to have any kind of discussion with him. And he so far away from me that he would have never been able to see my point of view anyway. "What about the Marines?" He went on to tell me about what the Marines did for him. I looked down and didn't answer. I remember the silence after that and the drive home seemed long even though we lived close. It is odd to think that you can be so alone with family in the car seat next to you. It is even more odd to think that you can feel so much better with them so far away. As I write this, I can't help but think that he would miss the point if he were to read this. He would want to make it about him. It is no longer about him. It is about me and my own family and my own friends and also about all of you who get what it means to help people grow and thrive and become what they want and not what you want, because in the end that is what we are here for isn't it? ... Enjoy!
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