Yesterday I realized that Popes have laps just like everyone else. I reached for my bandaged phone to call the past and see how it's doing in the present. It's aging, balding, and procreating. Stories changed from drinking adventures to nursery school adventures but I never saw the transition in subject coming. Wisdom seemed a little more tangible, retrospect does that. Busy lives become more dense with activity, understanding how much time has passed makes it a little more tolerable. History gets a little thicker, bad times iced over, hurt buried in rationalization. The past was still at the other end of the phone and that was enough this time.
I keep thinking all I need is one day, just one.