Rituals.

September 7, Berwyn.

We moved at night to avoid Chicago traffic, and Jeremiah drove with his brother, Christian, and Jacob, three young guys working in the circus, the three Cook bothers here now, Jeremiah, Christian and Daniel reunited.
To Jeremiah I owe one of my favorite circus rituals.  Every morning as we set out, last of the lasts off the lot, Fridman and Castro first with I following them and Jeremiah closing behind us, Jeremiah makes a little speech on the CB radio, and it inevitably ends with "the perfect combination for a convoy," with the two syllables of convoy drawn out in a falling guttural cry.  The speech can include everything from comments on the weather for the day to the reason why we had to wait half an hour on the lot, but the end never changes. 
Another ritual, Jeremiah asking Fridman if he can stop at a gas station for a cup of coffee, and as we stopped last night there was Christian talking out his skateboard for a few quick figures on the station's parking lot, like a kid who can't stop himself, and that's what they are, really, the whole gang of them, kids having fun, working hard at the circus.
But for me, being grateful for more rituals to remember fondly, and miss.