Time Is Running

The denials are always loud and vehement. Not I, not us, nada, nada, nada.

“No, not us,” the words are insistent, loud and yes, intimidating.

Others (like I) cringe and wonder, then why it is only our family that suffered fractures, some slight, others devastating.

I always believed in my heart of hearts that it was part of the baggage humanity carried, and a loss of essential communication happened to everyone at different times, places and quantities..

Sometimes when the sun had been hidden for a week or the glamorous news anchors told of a new Covid alert, I wondered if perhaps it was just my beloved clan that was silent on occasion,

Or if I really was wearing the dark cloak of depression, I wondered if perhaps it was an archaic Irish curse.

Although I have never believed in that possibility.

As a small child I learned about the problem from both grandparents’ families. One grandmother bore the loss of communication from a beloved daughter with stoic silence.

The other went walking in the night on the cold concrete streets of Ninth Avenue in Hells Kitchen. She never found her son, but Bellevue found her and became the place death claimed her.

However, I have since accepted reality. Everyone does not communicate well; neither family, friends or even foes.

The well publicized political feuds substantiate that.

However, my immediate problem today is not family (or should I say blood relationships). My two iPads are akin to not family, but obviously close relatives.

Today they stopped speaking. One will not accept my emails nor indulge my requests to return any messages.

How dare they disrupt my need for tranquility?

To be honest that is the only reason I have indulged in the luxury of adopting two from the land of Apple.

I enjoyed the luxury (which admittedly, it is, was or should be) of getting immediate alerts from several areas of my domain.

And now they dare to indulge in not communicating. I refuse to allow this lack of family acceptance or courtesy to continue.

If they do not speak within the next 12 hours, both will be sent home to the land of Apple in a plain brown box with Do Not Return on the cover.

Life is too short and fragile to allow such nonsense to interfere.

Time is running out.