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Old 08-10-2013, 05:38 AM
hairwing530 hairwing530 is offline
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Default Re: I Met Myself Last Night...

The pages of the journal made little sound as I finished the chapter in question and closed the covers of the book. Written at his old roll-top desk during one of his last Fall evenings spent visiting "Trail's End," it was both typical Montgomery Jackson in its scrolling, artistic hand-wrought penmanship, and non-typical in the depth of heartbreak and sorrow that the words would elicit from any reader, but especially yours truly. The writings could only be described as a form of gut-wrenching, soul-baring brutal honesty in his last days.

The chapter-- the first of the four remaining in this last personal journal --portrayed a man rich in friends, yet deeply lonely in his final hours. Long estranged from his only son by his son's own doing, it was clear that the late Montgomery Jackson held to deep regrets about not being able to overcome that one hurdle in his lifetime. Having known the man for 50+ years, his son was the true loser in that scenario.

The rest of his work in that chapter was intensely personal and more down-trodden than any side of the late Montgomery Jackson I'd ever known, and I won't betray his trust in me by airing his laundry, so to speak. Given our long friendship, it just wouldn't sit right with me. Suffice to say, his words gave me pause for quite awhile last night...

As I write this short addition to "I Met Myself Last Night," I realize that every man needs some company when he's standing on the rail tracks of life and facing down the last oncoming train. That said, if you know of a friend standing astride the rails or just in need of company, please take the time to visit or just to let them know that they're not facing that last train alone. The really good friends will always make sure that you're pushed clear of the wreckage, even in the final moments. After all, the late Montgomery Jackson did so for me...
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