My Son Monologue
The sun was right overhead and we had found our campsite in a clearing of the woods. We had been hiking since sunrise.
“This is it,” I muttered.
I would recognize it anywhere. It was the same oaks trees. The same pond.
“The clearing looks like we took it out of 1964, I guess some things stay frozen in time.”
Yes, maybe some things do. Right now, it sure felt that way. It was as if we traveled back thirty years, before it all happened. Yet I barely recognized my son. My scrawny, short son had turned into a man. In fact, he was taller than me, strongly built, with facial hair and glasses. You don’t notice change when you see it everyday. But looking at my son, I barely recognized him.
“We should set up camp,” my son responded. “You’ve always put business first. I’ve always respected that about you,” I laughed.
From a young age, he was serious. Me and his mother called him an “old soul.” …show more content…
Over the years, I had grown accustomed to being alone. After I left my son and his mother, I wondered for a while. I got in bits of trouble here and there, couple of bar fights, nothing too serious. I met some girls, no one I loved as much as his mother. Mostly one nighters that helped make the loneliness go away. I spent most of my time alone, drinking. I went in and out of rehabs. I tried to track down my son and his mother one time after many years. I even found they were living. I knocked on the door, and a man opened it. Looking back, I guess it was Greg, but all I knew is he said to me I would ruin their lives if I came in the door. I wanted to see them more than anything, but I couldn’t take care of them like this man could. They had a house with a yard and a fence, two cars; they were living the American dream. I left them, permanently this time, and never looked back. I got into some hardcore stuff around that time and moved around a lot. Eventually, I cleaned up for good. But by then, I was already an old man. It was a lonely
“This is it,” I muttered.
I would recognize it anywhere. It was the same oaks trees. The same pond.
“The clearing looks like we took it out of 1964, I guess some things stay frozen in time.”
Yes, maybe some things do. Right now, it sure felt that way. It was as if we traveled back thirty years, before it all happened. Yet I barely recognized my son. My scrawny, short son had turned into a man. In fact, he was taller than me, strongly built, with facial hair and glasses. You don’t notice change when you see it everyday. But looking at my son, I barely recognized him.
“We should set up camp,” my son responded. “You’ve always put business first. I’ve always respected that about you,” I laughed.
From a young age, he was serious. Me and his mother called him an “old soul.” …show more content…
Over the years, I had grown accustomed to being alone. After I left my son and his mother, I wondered for a while. I got in bits of trouble here and there, couple of bar fights, nothing too serious. I met some girls, no one I loved as much as his mother. Mostly one nighters that helped make the loneliness go away. I spent most of my time alone, drinking. I went in and out of rehabs. I tried to track down my son and his mother one time after many years. I even found they were living. I knocked on the door, and a man opened it. Looking back, I guess it was Greg, but all I knew is he said to me I would ruin their lives if I came in the door. I wanted to see them more than anything, but I couldn’t take care of them like this man could. They had a house with a yard and a fence, two cars; they were living the American dream. I left them, permanently this time, and never looked back. I got into some hardcore stuff around that time and moved around a lot. Eventually, I cleaned up for good. But by then, I was already an old man. It was a lonely