It's a Sunday today. I went to church for the first time in decades, listened to a sermon. It reminded me of being a kid. My dad used to drag me to to church. The priest there was an odd kind of fellow, freaked me out as a kid. I resented my dad for making me go. He was a cold, distant figure in my life overall. He worked all day as a lumberjack, like his father, and his father before him since they founded it in 1901. I was supposed to go down that path too. They owned a lot of land there in central Washington. Everything they did was either chopping down trees or hauling it around. Wasn't the most glamorous or refined profession but it was pretty common around those parts and it let us live comfortably. My father was proud of that company, of what his family had made and what they stood for. As for me, I never really understood it. Or well, I suppose I did, I just didn't care. Passing on the bloodline, inheriting and continuing my families legacy, making 'em proud, everything else. I just didn't give a rats ass about it. It never appealed to me. They were able to own as much land as they wanted. Had a big name in Walker Creek. I wanted my own legacy though, not chopping down trees 'till I died. I suppose I succeeded. I was proud of my shop, and of my family. Me and Julia. Probably as proud as my dad with his own life. But I wouldn't have wanted to pass anything on. Not that I can now. People should be free to live their own lives. Not be marching to the beat of someone else's drum, if you get what I mean.
- Trevor
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AuthorTrevor Magnil Archives
November 2021
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