Dean Winchester (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
single_man_tear) wrote2024-05-27 10:40 pm
single_man_tear) wrote2024-05-27 10:40 pm
Entry tags:
Journal Entry: Dear Sam
Dear Sammy,
Last Friday I went out drinking and ran into a guy who’s having “Troubles.” He’s speaking nonsense and gibberish. Apparently it’s some ancestral curse that’s from a town in Maine. I looked at the lord and didn’t find anything specific on it. Nor anything that would cure him. I even reached out to Cas and he didn’t respond.
I guess the thing with Kevin means he won’t return my calls.
Today is Memorial Day. For me and you it usually meant another day on the road. But now you’re retired and I’m on an island that turned me into a dog. They had a little celebration out by the lake put on by the fire department and local police. I just set up a couple of chairs, drank beer and people watched.
Remember my plan for when we stopped Chuck? It was going to be you and me, a beach, beer and sand between our toes.
I had a chair for you. I sat back and watched children play, kids with squirt guns and people relax and have a good time. And even though this isn’t my reality, I realized that our world, our reality, gets another year to enjoy that.
I picture you and Eileen with your son at some neighborhood barbecue. Eileen is chatting the neighbors while you chase after your son. I wish I could be there to teach him all the crap you wouldn’t. How to spit. The right curse words to drive you nuts.
I also wish you were in this empty chair right beside me having a beer.
I’ll never get to meet your son. We’ll never get to have the sand between our toes. It’s days like these I miss you the most but I’m happy you are living your best life.
Also a raccoon and a muppet both drove rickshaws right into the lake. It’s better than watching the Three Stooges.
-Dean
Last Friday I went out drinking and ran into a guy who’s having “Troubles.” He’s speaking nonsense and gibberish. Apparently it’s some ancestral curse that’s from a town in Maine. I looked at the lord and didn’t find anything specific on it. Nor anything that would cure him. I even reached out to Cas and he didn’t respond.
I guess the thing with Kevin means he won’t return my calls.
Today is Memorial Day. For me and you it usually meant another day on the road. But now you’re retired and I’m on an island that turned me into a dog. They had a little celebration out by the lake put on by the fire department and local police. I just set up a couple of chairs, drank beer and people watched.
Remember my plan for when we stopped Chuck? It was going to be you and me, a beach, beer and sand between our toes.
I had a chair for you. I sat back and watched children play, kids with squirt guns and people relax and have a good time. And even though this isn’t my reality, I realized that our world, our reality, gets another year to enjoy that.
I picture you and Eileen with your son at some neighborhood barbecue. Eileen is chatting the neighbors while you chase after your son. I wish I could be there to teach him all the crap you wouldn’t. How to spit. The right curse words to drive you nuts.
I also wish you were in this empty chair right beside me having a beer.
I’ll never get to meet your son. We’ll never get to have the sand between our toes. It’s days like these I miss you the most but I’m happy you are living your best life.
Also a raccoon and a muppet both drove rickshaws right into the lake. It’s better than watching the Three Stooges.
-Dean