Day twenty-three

Much to do today before we go help Bruce move home. I’ll post my weekend notes when we get back. The only entry I’ll make now is to publish a poem that cousin Dan sent to me this morning. It was written by his father—my Uncle Bob.
 

Home Schooling
      by Bob Dixon

Grandpa, teach us of truth.
I will help you study mathematics.
Is mathematics a language?
Yes, but it never speaks of good or evil.
Where shall we learn of good?
We will read poetry.
But must we not study God.
Yes, yes, we will read from the Greeks.
Is that not history?
No, I will teach you the history of your family.
But Grandpa, that is not written?
Writing destroys the sense of time passing.
So will we stop studying writing?
No, write on paper that does not endure a century.
What about the Greeks?
Their words were lost for a thousand years.
Was that bad?
Probably not, wisdom is better when it’s not seen as fact.
What about science?
Certainly you must study it, but it is always being revised.
You mean it is just theories?
No, science is about ways to make guesses about the future.
Grandpa, why do you always make us guess the answer to a problem?
We have mental processes that can not be put in words.
Is that like when people talk about art?
Exactly, or when athletes talk about playing ball.
Grandpa, have you learned much in your 70 years?
Yes, but if I told you it would be like yesterday’s ball game.
Is it sad that when you die that will all be gone?
No, you have a quarter of my genes.
But must we discover again all that you already know?
It seems that life requires refreshing everything but the bare essentials.
Does that mean having children?
No, it means having grandchildren.

      © Bob Dixon / All rights reserved.

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