“So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.”
Of course F. Scott Fitzgerald was talking about all of us when he typed those beautiful final lines to his novel, The Great Gatsby. And by that I mean I certainly recognize he wasn’t speaking exclusively about fathers or men, or the particular cargo we carry with us across the days of our enterprise. But I will tell you that’s precisely how that line has always rested with me, more than a closing epitaph from Nick Carraway to Jay Gatsby, it apparently sums up the always difficult love of men for other men and our shared lineage in this seemingly endless fumbling at manhood and fatherhood.
