Resignation
Resignation has more wrinkles on his forehead than an old leather bag. The wrinkles are grumpy and seem to scowl at you if you look at them straight on, so you can never really get a good look at him. His hands are worn and pale, two withering leathery skeletons that shake slightly if you watch them. He is a gray person with a gray life and a gray job. His clothes are gray and he wears gray frazzled socks with old gray sandals that sag like a sad song. He hardly ever gets out of his chair in the gray corner at family reunions. Sometimes he talks with Defeat and Despair but they don’t get out much either. He hates Determination.
Resignation lives in a gray house in his gray clothes. His only companion is Criticism. That’s who got him into this post in the first place. Resignation has a past that he warns us not to ask about. It's okay, no one wants to ask anyway. But I think he spent so much time with Criticism that he eventually abandoned everything else. That’s when his only companions became Defeat and Despair.
If you ever talk to Resignation, you probably won’t like him much. He scowls at you as you talk and never quite looks you in the eye. Most of his comments are complaints and he never asks you about your day. He’s not the kind of person you invite over for polite dinner company. I know from experience. We had him over once and the evening ended with Resignation asleep on the couch after clearing the liquor from our cupboards.
But everyone talks to him at some point, because even though he is reclusive, he hangs on to people like your grandma’s thank you letter you’ve never written. When you do, he will probably tell you that whatever you are doing is not worth it. He will probably tell you to quit baseball and give up dancing. He will tell you to stop hoping for love and waiting for opportunities. He will tell you that they will never come.
Resignation lives in a gray house in his gray clothes. His only companion is Criticism. That’s who got him into this post in the first place. Resignation has a past that he warns us not to ask about. It's okay, no one wants to ask anyway. But I think he spent so much time with Criticism that he eventually abandoned everything else. That’s when his only companions became Defeat and Despair.
If you ever talk to Resignation, you probably won’t like him much. He scowls at you as you talk and never quite looks you in the eye. Most of his comments are complaints and he never asks you about your day. He’s not the kind of person you invite over for polite dinner company. I know from experience. We had him over once and the evening ended with Resignation asleep on the couch after clearing the liquor from our cupboards.
But everyone talks to him at some point, because even though he is reclusive, he hangs on to people like your grandma’s thank you letter you’ve never written. When you do, he will probably tell you that whatever you are doing is not worth it. He will probably tell you to quit baseball and give up dancing. He will tell you to stop hoping for love and waiting for opportunities. He will tell you that they will never come.
Resignation is a grumpy old grandfather who tells his grandchildren that waiting is all we live for. He will tell you to give up and hang your hopes on the wall with your soccer shoes and your old guitar. But you mustn’t listen.
All he really wants is for you to take his post.
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