We are wire

Child,
Your father is a wire: long and lean, coiled of endless strands, surviving on tension. Ideas jolt through me like electricity. A wire is full of heartache for the stories and songs and pictures that are lost into air. There are more ideas than time and there are bills and trips to the grocery store and the curse of sleep. Even so, I am endlessly grateful for the electricity that flows through me. Ideas are treasure.

I thought that this wire theory was my own, which just proves the theory as it disproves my ownership.

Your grandparents told me many times that I was not born from them, but that I came through them. They were the wires that delivered my charge into the world, sparks and tears flying. This proud theory of mine is theirs, and now yours.

You do not belong to me. If anything, I belong to you. You belong to God, to this big blue world, to yourself. We are wires carrying your charge. And you too will be a wire, full of sparks and hope. Wire to wire, strand to strand, we are parts of an endless network connected across all time, connected through all things. I see this now so clearly. Thank you for sharing that spark with me.

pa-