Born with the Sound of Thunder

First of the New Year 2017

Dear Cassi,

Two thousand seventeen was born with the sound of thunder that shook the windows and set off car alarms. I was on duty when it happened and the roar of human jubilations was lost on me as I sat in silence for nearly twenty minutes letting the blasting play itself out.

The air is still burnt nearly twenty four hours later and smoke from the fire that scorched the night still lingers as a ghost. Every now and then the pop of a firework serves as the moan of this spirit of jubilation. As for me I don’t understand.

The world has moved on from the hard parts of life and the homeless still clog the streets in tent settlements like clumps of leaves in the rain gutters. The world still burns under the human touch and we have come no closer to changing things.  Still we fill the night with jubilation as if the world’s problems have been made nothing.

Perhaps I am a pessimist and all this should be stricken from my mind, but to me the future looks dark and that orange thing who will soon lead the world is making me feel sick and worried.

I don’t know what the future holds for me, but I do know that I will meet it as best I can. My life has been a fight and it looks like a fight one can never win, but so long as there is life there is that fight to keep me.

                

Stay safe, little sister,

Richard Leland Neal

Magic Fire and Angry Souls

4^th July 2013

Dear Cassi,

Today is the Fourth of July and there was a time when this day brought to me so much joy and mirth. Now, honestly, it’s a day I go to work. Is there some reason we should save something for the holidays or should we just live every day? Well, that is a question for another time.

          
As a boy there was a magic in fire and so fireworks were a great thing to me. The family would go about and buy some reasonable supply of combustibles, as would our neighbors, and the block would have a show of fire and smoke. Pickles was one to dance about with fire in hand and make the folks laugh.

          
There was one soul that had dismal feelings for our mirth and that person was my stepmother. I think she hated to see me happy. Or perhaps she hated to see anything go to children that were not her own. Who knows? All I can say for sure is that my love of fireworks infuriated her.

I recall one year I had taken the family fireworks out of the bag and put them on the coffee table. Fireworks were so nice to look at with their cartoon designs and colorful paper. I think at some point I moved the combustibles to a hire location hoping to keep them from the dog.

          
My stepmother was furious. She came over that weekend before the forth and said, “I think what you want to do is eat those things. You arrange them over here then you arrange them over there.”

          
Why this was her affair at all escapes me. Then why, even if it was, would a child loving fireworks be so offensive? Some folks live life looking for a reason to be angry. I paid her no mind at the time and regret ever having taken her seriously in the duration of my knowing her.

Let every day have its magic,

Richard Leland Neal