netr allar nío
There are few things that truly matter in this world. Oh sure, there are lots of distractions and shiny things that catch our eye, and we delude ourselves by assigning worth to material things that fail to advance or fulfill us spiritually in any way, shape, or form.
See, what truly matters is family.
Family to me transcends shared blood. Family is earned, through words and deeds. Especially deeds.
In this twenty-first century world, the ideas of clan, of tribe, of folk are not revered as they once were, and more’s the pity.
I have many brothers and sisters, though we crawled out from different wombs. Nothing vexes me more than when we become cross. But right is right. There is no sense in denying it. It is as sure as finding cold and snow in winter.
I have tried to instill these truths in my son. He, being young and pure, always sees the right of things. One thing I’ve learned, as we grow older, this becomes more difficult, more entangled, even though it shouldn’t.
Right is right.
It is said, “Inga träd växer till himmelen.” No trees grow above the sky, which is a fancy way of saying that nothing lasts forever. Some truths are hard to face, some roads hard as hell to travel, but in the end, right is right.
A hard day is coming.
In the Havamal it is written, “Be your friend’s true friend. Return gift for gift. Repay laughter with laughter but meet betrayal with treachery.” I don’t have it in me to be treacherous, but I can summon up the courage to speak the cold hard truth.
But not today. It is still a time for mourning. But soon. Because right is right.