Instead Of Cheerful
There is an undercurrent of resentment which in my opinion belies the outward show of cooperation between the group. Who resents whom or what and why is something inside a variable of seven.
There is a feeling among three, six, or none, that emotion should be contained until the business is effectively performed to a satisfactory end. There is in this no mention of product but there may be one.
One or all have thoughts about the questionable benefits of longevity.
Everywhere around there is larger tragedy to dwarf that of the individual but the individuals are connected with no dissent on the issue of self-involvement.
Some are suspicious of the emotional hoax and some are just waiting it out.
The product lacks patience and so do the buyers.
No thing remains.
I met Mr. and Mrs. Louis sometime in the 70's, and they seemed old, or at least grandparently, to me at the time. This comes from being the first born rather than the seventh.
I have yet to grapple with the loss of autonomy of parents that many of my age peers are dealing with. Co-workers and friends are dealing with aging and death. I can see my own parent's gradual decline. Although for now it is mostly physical -- manifest in declining mobility, aging joints, chronic pain. And the rare critical incident.
I've seen the example of my grandfather, now past ninety. In his eighties his body became weary, but his mind continued to expand in new directions. Newspapers, books, computers, gardening, volunteer work and travel kept his mind from atrophying. An eighty something year old, who learned to drive in a Model T, writing a newsletter on a computer. That's something.
But, if the body maintains, or at least the vital organs do, the brain will ultimately betray us. The mind, relying as it does on a fragile network of cells and chemicals, slips away. That betrayal is the most troubling to us all.
Since a young age, I've been in touch with the transient nature of life. I had Billy Pilgrim's ability to allow the present to have a tenuous grasp on me. Even more than usual, the temporariness of it all is present in my mind.
On the date of your posting (1-11-05) LA would have been 64. I am older than she was when she died in October 1983. I have been reflecting about that over the past year - not in a very deliberate way - more an involuntary/unexpected sort of remembering way... Your kindness during that time still means a lot to me. Who can ever know how to help a parent age/transition/die? Or what it will feel like to watch her lose parts of herself? Or to lose her.
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There is an undercurrent of resentment which in my opinion belies the outward show of cooperation between the group. Who resents whom or what and why is something inside a variable of seven.
There is a feeling among three, six, or none, that emotion should be contained until the business is effectively performed to a satisfactory end. There is in this no mention of product but there may be one.
One or all have thoughts about the questionable benefits of longevity.
Everywhere around there is larger tragedy to dwarf that of the individual but the individuals are connected with no dissent on the issue of self-involvement.
Some are suspicious of the emotional hoax and some are just waiting it out.
The product lacks patience and so do the buyers.
No thing remains.
- jimlouis 1-12-2005 7:30 am
I met Mr. and Mrs. Louis sometime in the 70's, and they seemed old, or at least grandparently, to me at the time. This comes from being the first born rather than the seventh.
I have yet to grapple with the loss of autonomy of parents that many of my age peers are dealing with. Co-workers and friends are dealing with aging and death. I can see my own parent's gradual decline. Although for now it is mostly physical -- manifest in declining mobility, aging joints, chronic pain. And the rare critical incident.
I've seen the example of my grandfather, now past ninety. In his eighties his body became weary, but his mind continued to expand in new directions. Newspapers, books, computers, gardening, volunteer work and travel kept his mind from atrophying. An eighty something year old, who learned to drive in a Model T, writing a newsletter on a computer. That's something.
But, if the body maintains, or at least the vital organs do, the brain will ultimately betray us. The mind, relying as it does on a fragile network of cells and chemicals, slips away. That betrayal is the most troubling to us all.
Since a young age, I've been in touch with the transient nature of life. I had Billy Pilgrim's ability to allow the present to have a tenuous grasp on me. Even more than usual, the temporariness of it all is present in my mind.
- mark 1-12-2005 9:26 am [add a comment]
On the date of your posting (1-11-05) LA would have been 64. I am older than she was when she died in October 1983. I have been reflecting about that over the past year - not in a very deliberate way - more an involuntary/unexpected sort of remembering way... Your kindness during that time still means a lot to me. Who can ever know how to help a parent age/transition/die? Or what it will feel like to watch her lose parts of herself? Or to lose her.
- Angela (guest) 1-13-2005 5:34 am [add a comment]