Thanksgiving Tape 4 - CLient DRV.HA.110

(Beep. Music fades in.)

Professor, I… I don’t know what to say.

You came up in conversation during the holiday, which makes sense I guess. I am very thankful for the time I spent in your class and for the lessons I did not always take to heart. I am grateful for the kindness you showed me and for the book that you gave me. I’m even thankful for your new book, even if it has little to nothing to do with me or anything. I’m just happy that it exists. That it’s out in the world.

I’ve already read it cover to cover a few times, but my girlfriend has not. So when I repeat a point that you made in it, she’s really impressed. And I kind of just let it sit between us for a few moments before I clarify that it came from you. Then she’ll chuckle and assure me that being well-read is still an achievement. 

I think she puts it that way because she does know who you are. And she has been telling me to email you. Or connect on social media. The digital overlords have been recommending that we do, and I am unsure how those websites knew we were connected, and I am scared to find out. 

But typical me, right? I’m scared of many things.

(Music fades out and new music fades in.)

We know what’s pretty high on that list of things, right? You not being okay when I probably could have prevented it in some way. 

I know you’re okay now. I’ve heard as much. And I know it’s hard for you to reach out. That’s why you haven’t. You don’t know what to say, and while you are trying to find the words, you lose track of time or give up or something comes up. I know you’re busy. Busy with teaching, busy with writing, busy with life, and busy with other stuff. You don’t have to justify anything to me. After all, I have reaped a lot of the benefits. 

And I am grateful for that. I know I’ve said as much. How much of this repetitive nature is actually the guilt talking? Because I didn’t take your lessons to heart, and if I had, well, that could have saved me a lot of trouble. And I wouldn’t go back and forth with whether or not I owe you an apology. It’s my life, I get it.It was my action and my consequence, so where are you in all this? I don’t know exactly. I think I feel compelled to talk just to fill the space.

(Music fades out and new music fades in)

When I first pieced together why I was dreaming about you, that your wife had died, I felt like I needed to email you and ask if you ever wanted to talk, that I was open to that. But it was probably a bad idea. I definitely was not in the sort of place to help you, and it probably would have been a boundary crossed for you to even talk at me about her. 

But I don’t l know. I really don’t know. It was just a hunch I guess. Because when it was my dad, I just wanted to talk about him and what I was feeling. But no one else wanted me to. It stung, more than it had to. And I thought that you might be in the same boat, and if so, maybe I could actually help you. Because at the very least, I would be too meek to stop you from talking

I’m glad I didn’t do, though, for everyone’s sake. Given the season, the urge to reach out with that specific and ill-advised offer came back. My girlfriend suggested that I go with part of that impulse. The reaching out part. But I feel like I don’t know how.

I can preach until I’m hoarse that we should not let grief isolate us, but that’s kind of what happens. You find a group of people that can support you rather well and everyone else has to wait outside. But I worry that no one is inside with you. I’ve seen things or I guess conversations that don’t inspire much confidence in me. The aftermath wasn’t kind, was it? Some people weren’t kind.

(Music fades out and new music fades in)

I do try to stay out of your head. Out of respect. Boundaries and all that. But even from this distance, I can’t imagine it was easy to something to be thankful for. Maybe instead you got caught up in all that’s bad about this holiday. Which… you know, fair enough when you’re not doing it as a terrible coping mechanism. Intentions and effects and all that, all that you taught me. 

Maybe there is some merit to the idea that I could repay you for all your lessons if I could muster up some of my own. But that’s hard. Obviously, I have less to pull from, but right now, I have literally nothing. I know I should be thankful for what I do have rather than obsessing over the pains left by absence. And I could tell you that or teach you how to do so, but easier said than done. 

And maybe easier still for you if she wasn’t the center of your traditions. Or maybe you did not celebrate at all? I could see that, but I don’t know. I make it a point not to know. It’s not my business. I’m just worried about you. The holidays are never easy for me. They aren’t easy for a lot of people. And I would not wish this ache on anyone. Especially not you.

(Music fades out and new music fades in)

I don’t even know why I made this tape for you. I don’t have anything more to add to what I’ve said before. To what might not even matter. It might not be enough or worth anything, and that is said because I cannot muster up anything more. 

I am grateful for you, though. I am grateful to have known you, to have learned from you, and to have studied your work. It made me much stronger. In time, yes. It took me a while to learn, but I got there. And I am grateful for it. I am thankful for you. And thinking about that helped me.

So thank you. 

(Music fades out. Beep.)

This has been the fourth and final part of the Oracle of Dusk Thanksgiving special. A small token of appreciation for all who listen.