The Sound of a Train

I can't sleep tonight.

The other day I sent the money for a ticket on Amtrak for my youngest child to travel up the east coast on Thanksgiving to see her grandmother.

But I don't really know my daughter. She's 21 and I am 72.

I would like to get to know her, but that has to be her choice. For starters, I do not know what she thinks of me. Not that that matters all that much -- I'm just the jerk who married her Mom -- what I really want to know is what she thinks of herself.And I have only a few hints of what her inner life is like.

The sound of the train on the tracks carrying her north is very familiar to me, and I will imagine that for her, but that's something she's way too young to know about me. I used to ride that train all the time when she was 2. The train is both the nicest and the loneliest place to be at the same time.

It sure as hell beats flying!

I tried to sleep but could not, so now will stay awake for hours. There is so much unresolved in my life. I limp around with this cane, watch old movies and listen to music on YouTube. And wish that my daughter might call me sometime.

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