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11/24/2003: "Companion"

You were always with me. I saw you when I got up in the morning, in my little footie pajamas; I have fallen asleep with you. When I was sick my mother would let me see you; when something terrible or wonderful happened I rushed into your presence. The president was buried forty years ago and my memory is of you. My mother breathed her last six years ago: you were keeping vigil with my brothers and me as she slipped from this world. It seems strange, that I once went away and you weren't there: those vacations when I was a child, the times in college when I went so long without seeing you and then resumed our relationship without a pause. You have both emptied the hours I spent with you, and filled them. Sometimes I've loathed you, sneered at you, or looked on you with contempt; but I've always had room for you in my life. I'll watch you tonight, even if you have nothing on.