yes. it's very strange.
i appreciate what you've all written.
bobbi
On Fri, Apr 20, 2012 at 5:59 PM, Kenneth Wolman <[log in to unmask]>wrote:
> In a weird way, I've become my parents with lots of the edges removed. I
> won't call it "channeling" but you may if you want to. Lots of edges, but
> not all. I have my own. Ask my kids and my ex, among others. There is
> moment in the film "Philadelphia" in which the dying man played by Tom
> Hanks speak his version of an aria from Umberto Giordano's "Andrea Chenier"
> in which the character singing says something about having brought misery
> to everyone who loved her. I can't change the last two+ years but I can
> understand a lot of what happened. The reflections took my voice away until
> the other night. Suddenly I feel as though the adhesions broke. We'll see
> if anything follows.
>
> Time to go feed my cat.
>
> KW
>
> On Apr 20, 2012, at 7:41 PM, Stephen Vincent wrote:
>
> > Yes, I, too, remain haunted by a therapist (whose parents were dead) who
> once
> > told me that her parents, over the years, became closer and closer to
> her daily
> > life/consciousness, & that would be true for me and most of us. I sense
> that
> > more now, now with my dad dead now 7 years. I am never without a sense
> of his
> > presence, but particularly his vigor to go forward & damn the demons. He
> was not
> > the mosquito kind of guy. "Digging" back, I suspect, we are always doing
> that -
> > e.g.,the endless histories, tome upon tome, that we get of wars upon
> wars.
> >
> >
> >
> > Stephen Vincent
> >
> >
> > ________________________________
> > From: Kenneth Wolman <[log in to unmask]>
> > To: [log in to unmask]
> > Sent: Fri, April 20, 2012 11:18:27 AM
> > Subject: Where Did I Leave Them?
> >
> > Where Did I Leave Them?
> >
> > They are still here.
> > My parents are then subject I know best.
> > A single subject, a trinity,
> > father, mother, and kicked-aside
> > unholy spirit, three persons in
> > indivisible unity. I've
> > let them go, so my penance is
> > to sit in silence.
> >
> > I cannot see what I've dropped
> > so do not trust this moment
> > because I can't believe I might
> > have found it, them, again,
> > my dearly beloveds, my obsession
> > hovering around my head,
> > unnetted swarm of mosquitos
> > digging in my ears.
>
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