2nd

On the exact day that Mikael Jacek Miskiewicz was born, his grandfather slipped on some ice and broke his humerus.  That Mikael bears a striking resemblance to his grandfather can only be attributed to some divine intervention.  

An interesting start to his story, wouldn’t you say?

And so it was, on the last day of March the father of Mikael, with his last ounce of energy went out for a run after dusk.  Disregarding his usual route down the Merwedekanaal next to the rowboats, he opted for the Rijnkanaal, and was rewarded with five successive cruise ships harboured for the evening.    Unoccupied, but thrilling nevertheless, the idea of boarding and gently floating away.

Then the following day a text from far away was received, inquiring about Grandfather Jr. & his brother.

Which brings us to today, where the father is sitting in a sterile office, duly waiting for another fifteen minutes so another colleague can finish her meeting and we can all go for lunch together, where he’ll sweat at the discomfort of having to put on a show – the fake smile and inquiries into the private lives of his colleagues masking his real desire to read a book, learn the trumpet, but mainly read a book.  

The weight of it all can best be described as paralyzing.  There’s the need to nurture the young – but also the old.  Only in the last year, there have been four hospital visits from perhaps the three most important people in his life.  Two times, his mother, one time his father and one time his aunt.  The suffocating decisions and weight of expectations, led him to sign another one year contract of misery.  

He’ll seek refuge in literature and at the moment is deliberating his next read.  There are three options on the table.  The first, Revolusi – an extensive look at the colonization of Indonesia, which appears to be a cousin of The Power Broker in terms of scope, detail and mastery of research.  Secondly, on the podcast that was listened to on his commute to the depths of hell, Karl Ove Knausgaurd made a case for Delillo’s The Names. Intriguing because it takes place in Athens, a place where the father spent a few chaotic days in the previous decade.  Lastly, a Roth, which for him, is always a given.  

His kids are alright.  The mom has no mastitis in sight and Ka is fattening up amply.  Lo spends most of his time with the father and he seems quite alright with it.  He can’t stop talking.  On the weekend, while the two were cycling to the city, he pulled out a Raboreader, his makeshift cell phone and started having a conversation with someone.    There is joy in this.  Almost enough to counteract the fear of the elderly’s demise.