Lineage

I’m passing this to you to lighten the load on my aging hands and it breaks my heart to bring this burden to you but this is our lineage. You’re next. If it was mine to carry I’d continue on so the load is lightened for you but it’s taken what it can and I must go.
I’m passing this to you. I don’t know why. Why would someone pass this to someone. I’m not sure what it is but I know it’s heavy. I’d continue to carry it for you but I’m not sure what it is. I think it belongs to you.
I have dementia. My thoughts get confused and jumbled. My genetics predetermine what is coming next for me, and what could be coming next you. I don’t mean to pass this to you believe me if I could control it I’d keep it. Dementia is a thief. It’s just a matter of time
What time is it. Have I met you before. Here take this. And get the hell out. How dare you bother me when I’m busy with this work. Did you hear me. Take it and get the hell out.
And so I pass you. Completely. Not a nod or a hi or shimmering of hope that I knew you. I noticed in passing you seemed to have dropped your heart. The empty hollow in your eyes could tell me that something heavy hurt you. Did something hurt you? Did you fall? Was it something I did? What does my doing have to do with you?
I’m handing this to you. With weary hands I reach to hold your hand hoping it’ll anchor me to where we are. I’m handing this to you. And I wish I wouldn’t. Wish I couldn’t, but, it’s genetics. This is our lineage.

Billets and Brothers a year later

Gold in the field, gold around their necks, I know they’re gone even if it just hasn’t it me yet.
Waving hands, stand in cheer, now cowbells silenced, wavering hearts, hands locked in fear.
We stand on guard for thee, a national anthem starts the game, we stand on guard for thee, united we stand for them.
A nation locked with pieces of broken hearts and broken dreams. A nation locked in rising, praying, remembering.
We will, we will, rock you. Rocked. A nation rocked. Bundled in the stands, freezing hands applaud, freezing hands wring around frozen hand in worry.
Broncos as brothers. Billets as family. Friends as family. Oh how the West was won and all at once lost.
You lace up your skates, you sharpen your edge, you throw down your gloves. You fight for the victory, you feel through the loses and then you lose a loss that you just can’t come back from.
From dawn to dusk the game was played, dry land trained, drills drilled in to their heads and a bond that will not be broken.
Mass casualty, we unit as a mass, as a country unified. Hockey, our game, hockey your life. The pride, the practice, the patience, the perseverance.
From billets, to brothers. From the Rocky’s to the East. We hold you higher from Sea to sea.