Today it finally hit me that my brothers, my sister, and I are orphans. Eric still has his mother, but the rest of us are parentless. We’re all fifty or thereabouts, so it’s not like we’re now helpless and terrified. I find it incomprehensible more than anything else. Though Mom and Dad died for nine…
Reclaiming my past
October 2, 2013
I just found a letter I’d forgotten I wrote. It’s dated September 26, 1996. I never sent it. Here’s part. * * * I’ve been dividing my time between writing, seeing a shrink (my head’s the size of a grapefruit now), and working on my great-aunt’s house next door. It’s a very Wictoresque venture so…
Trees were unclean
September 2, 2013
My father hated trees. In his world, trees were unclean. He hated the leaves they dropped, and he hated the shade they provided. To him, shade connoted sloth and secrets. Shade trees in your yard meant you were lazy and had something to hide. A moral, upright man had no trees. The lawn of a…