The Laughing Wolf

A Much Needed Break

No, I still don’t believe in coincidence. Even less so now.

My cousins/friends took good care of me yesterday. I came so close to trying to beg off, but knew that I needed to get out, and how much I enjoy their company. So, I let myself be hauled off to Ellijay for some BBQ. Good ribs at Col. Poole’s Bar-B-Q at the Pig Hill Of Fame, and I even gave the “Peace Through Superior Firepower” button I was wearing to the good Colonel.

We also stopped at some apple sheds, tried samples, considered options, and came home with a few goodies. Plans are to go back and actually pick apples one weekend soon, which should be fun. My only disappointment was in not finding any more of the cheddar sourdough bread as it is made in Ellijay. Since the 12-year-old was not with us, we spent some time coming up with ideas to torture him encourage personal growth. In short, a good time was had and I actually got to relax a bit, and laugh.

I needed it. Breslan hit home for me, hard. There is a tendency to romanticize former enemies and hard times, and I know it, but this is not that. This hit not just because of a people that have suffered enough, but because I see it for what it is: the warmup for more to come here. A glimpse of a future that I hope that my godsons and other children here may yet avoid.

The only thing that would have made yesterday better would have been to have my godsons with me. To be able to hold them, hug them, and send them off to enjoy and explore as we did the same. To not hold back the tears, tears of sorrow at what was, and tears of joy at those who are safe.

It was on my way over to my cousin’s that I stopped to get a quick bite to eat. I forgot to eat yesterday morning, even to drink. So, having dealt with my thirst and caffeine addiction, I pulled into a small place to get a small something to eat. It is not my favorite place, but for some reason I stopped there. I heard her voice, and then looked at her name. I had to ask: “Vwe Ruska?” The answer was “Dah.”

Being a restaurant and busy, we could not talk long or much. We avoided the news, talked of her hometown and that I should visit; of St. Petersburg and the beauty there; and, of desires to visit and revisit towns. All too short, and though I don’t care for the place as a rule, I will go back. Maybe then we can talk longer, and on more things. Maybe then I will start to improve my Russian.

No, no coincidence, just a reminder. That which is elsewhere is here. For most of us, that school is as our own, and its people are our people. The fight is ours, wherever it may be.

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