He had no idea his first born nephew was living in Old Louisville now. Close to a year of firing on all cylinders; using both hemispheres to feel fully connected to this mean and loving world. Hemispheres that grind together squeezing out ambiguity. At rare times there's the wholly connected-ness to people and to God. The rest is spent in the uncertain everyday-ness. He loves me, He loves me not. A snow fall is only beautiful for a fleeting moment before the world stains it. God loves his stained creation anyway.
He often thought that if he were God, He'd have given up on humanity after the nuclear bombing of Japan.
He had come to learn with, and eventually to love, ambiguity in life. Let the hemispheres grind together and play hide'n seek with God. The same humanity which can be so cruel, can be uplifting in the same breath. He had learned to appreciate material things in life, but had come to find joy in unseen things more than he'd ever had in the past.
So he sent out a thought to his first born nephew. May he learn to live with the sweet ambiguity of life and use it to find joy in the things unseen, and find them often. He loves him, he thinks of him often, and he wishes him a happy anniversary.
The Beatles: "Tomorrow Never Knows" 1966.