In recent weeks I have had two unique experiences. Push troubles me and it may seem a demonstration of bad taste and insensitivity. Yet they are deeply linked in my mind, and I do not think that I can mention one without the other promptly.
This is the death of my mother and the publication of my first book in common, in addition to the coincidence of time, have only two things: first, it is the uniqueness that forced me to do, in different but not as much as I would have thought, a statement of who I am, I've become, I would like to change or continue to be to think about the present and future, in other words.
The other thing they have in common is more nuanced, more difficult to grasp and has to do with the demonstrations of attention, esteem and affection I received in the two cases, by people who know me personally and I often see, other links with whom I have many years of writing and reading, and from people I had lost sight of for some time and that I (or me) found.
The mail and the words that I read and heard in the last month ... well, 'I did not expect to be around people watching me and I think so. With care, good flavors, gentle curiosity. With care. I knew at least enough to find the right words in both cases, long look, attentive ears. And discretion.
Folks, I tend to travel light, this united the heroine of my book. I have drawers full of junk and she spread to the four winds that have accompanied the objects for a stretch of road is no different. The question is (s) confidence, excessive caution, the temptation to live, as it were, in profile, not to be discovered, I suppose.
These days, reading your mail and listen, watch his face while were saying sorry or to talk about the atmosphere of will yesterday, I did a little 'accounts. And I came to doubt that he lavished time and energy to protect me while I had better spend it ... well, trusting, laughing more, perhaps, overcoming mistrust and guilt instead of ignoring them.
Perhaps now is the time to put the suitcase on top of the cupboard, where metaphorical historically it is always ready, but in the cellar.
I could stop here, not bad at the bottom. Is not bad.
So I would like to thank you. There will name, for in this blog that I put myself in the game, you are entitled to your sacrosanct privacy. But thanks, really, for having been close, and especially for giving me a bit 'in crisis. True companions on the road are for.
PS yesterday I was asked two questions, one on the present and the future, which could be summarized roughly as follows: "What do you do these years still full of energy and health? "and" What you want (you) to remember your life in old age ? "They are good questions, an echo of the other. Quiet, I'm thinking and I think the answer is: " Only the best for me .
Although it's not easy ...
This is the death of my mother and the publication of my first book in common, in addition to the coincidence of time, have only two things: first, it is the uniqueness that forced me to do, in different but not as much as I would have thought, a statement of who I am, I've become, I would like to change or continue to be to think about the present and future, in other words.
The other thing they have in common is more nuanced, more difficult to grasp and has to do with the demonstrations of attention, esteem and affection I received in the two cases, by people who know me personally and I often see, other links with whom I have many years of writing and reading, and from people I had lost sight of for some time and that I (or me) found.
The mail and the words that I read and heard in the last month ... well, 'I did not expect to be around people watching me and I think so. With care, good flavors, gentle curiosity. With care. I knew at least enough to find the right words in both cases, long look, attentive ears. And discretion.
Folks, I tend to travel light, this united the heroine of my book. I have drawers full of junk and she spread to the four winds that have accompanied the objects for a stretch of road is no different. The question is (s) confidence, excessive caution, the temptation to live, as it were, in profile, not to be discovered, I suppose.
These days, reading your mail and listen, watch his face while were saying sorry or to talk about the atmosphere of will yesterday, I did a little 'accounts. And I came to doubt that he lavished time and energy to protect me while I had better spend it ... well, trusting, laughing more, perhaps, overcoming mistrust and guilt instead of ignoring them.
Perhaps now is the time to put the suitcase on top of the cupboard, where metaphorical historically it is always ready, but in the cellar.
I could stop here, not bad at the bottom. Is not bad.
So I would like to thank you. There will name, for in this blog that I put myself in the game, you are entitled to your sacrosanct privacy. But thanks, really, for having been close, and especially for giving me a bit 'in crisis. True companions on the road are for.
PS yesterday I was asked two questions, one on the present and the future, which could be summarized roughly as follows: "What do you do these years still full of energy and health? "and" What you want (you) to remember your life in old age ? "They are good questions, an echo of the other. Quiet, I'm thinking and I think the answer is: " Only the best for me .
Although it's not easy ...
0 comments:
Post a Comment