Typical Saturday, running errands, birthday parties, haircuts…I miss my Dad.
Epitaph
When I die
Give what’s left of me away
To children
And old men that wait to die.
And if you need to cry,
Cry for your brother
Walking the street beside you.
And when you need me,
Put your arms
Around anyone
And give them
What you need to give to me.
I want to leave you something,
Something better
Than words
Or sounds.
Look for me
In the people I’ve known
Or loved,
And if you cannot give me away,
At least let me live on your eyes
And not on your mind.
You can love me most
By letting
Hands touch hands,
By letting
Bodies touch bodies,
And by letting go
Of children
That need to be free.
Love doesn’t die,
People do.
So, when all that’s left of me
Is love,
Give me away.
- Merritt Malloy
Noticing this morning’s reblog from Humans of New York, our producer Phyllis Myers was reminded of this poem, which is a favorite of hers, and it’s so lovely I wanted to pass it along to the rest of you.
(via nprfreshair)
This reminds me of you, Dad.
As I was staring at the ceiling at 4am this morning, Isa giggled in her sleep and said “grandpa”. My heart.
Fatigue is realized when Fear subsides and Reality rips through your soul. Powerless exhaustion.
We put them in their own bed every night. This is how they end up every morning.
Brotherly love.
Rachel Maddow, saying what every Democrat has been trying to tell every Republican. (via bowsic)
Amen.
(via section9)
Rachel Maddow, another voice of reason.
(via jennyjennybobenny)
Love Rachel Maddow

