It takes effort to escape the current of the comfortable. The current is easy. It's the way we
would float without exerting any effort at all. Yet, as life goes, the
conversations that mean something are rarely found within the flow. They
require struggle and the possibility of failure.
I sat across from my Dad and placed my phone on the table.
I pressed record, and we tried to talk. We left comfort behind in search of the right
words.
I reached for questions. My Dad reached for memories.
As the minutes passed, his answers smoothed into a string of
stories. One memory brought up another
that brought up another. We were moving
again, but not floating.
This was more like swimming.
I really want to talk to you about this. I've been trying to organize an interview of my family members about my grandparents too! So crazy. Wish I knew that before I left Richmond. :)
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