A Writer's Notebook, Day One-Thousand-Six-Hundred-And-Twenty-Two

I am missing my dad a lot tonight.  I suppose that is not surprising, considering it is Passover and tonight's Seder included a lot of family traditions.  Even more, I keep thinking about things and how they might be different if he were still alive.  It may just be my own fantasy, and things could have turned out just the same as they are, but I don't think that is true.  There has been a lot that has happened in my family recently, and I feel like my dad would have handled it all very differently.  Certainly, there are things that would probably have worked out the same way, but, even in those cases, I tend to believe my dad would have handled it differently and, even if the end result was the same, I would probably have a different relationship to certain events.  For example, there were some important decisions that were made which I was explicitly kept from knowing about, even though everyone else, including my younger brother, was informed, and I am fairly certain my dad would not have let that happen.  He was a big believer in being fair, and I can't imagine he would let one of us be informed about something important while keeping the other one in the dark intentionally, and, though I would probably still be upset about things, it would be very different if I had been aware at the same time as my brother was.  Of course, the truth is that things would definitely be better if my dad were alive just because he would be alive and that would be better.  I don't need to be certain he would have acted in the right way to know that I miss him and wish he was here.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Poem: Neighborhood Inhabitants

Neighborhood Inhabitants There was a fox once, and another time, otters, and now a peacock that we think got lost during one of the storms. She stays down on the other end of the street, though, does not visit us. We have a racoon family that stays in our tree some nights, and there is a baby lizard, a brown basilisk, who we have seen several times. It is not supposed to be here, is invasive and troublesome to the local ecosystem, as are the duck.  I hear there are giant snails now who eat stucco or concrete or something of that sort. I have not seen one, though, I just heard they are here and big as my fist.
Read more

A Writer's Notebook, One-Thousand-Eight-Hundred-And-Seventy-Three

I am still finding it difficult to get back to a more productive work schedule at the moment.  In part, I am sure it is that I gave myself permission to slack off a bit, and it is difficult to walk that back, especially because I am still writing and being productive, even if not to the same degree. I know it would be good to get back to doing more writing, but I also know that I am still meeting my core obligations, even if at a more minimal level.  Really, I just need to make the choice and force myself to stick to it.  To that end, I am planning to at least get back to work on my longer projects again tomorrow, even if I don't increase the poetry output right away.
Read more

A Writer's Notebook, Day One-Thousand-One-Hundred-And-Thirty-Three

I received my acceptance to attend workshop at the Palm Beach Poetry Festival next year and am very excited to be working with Matthew Olzmann, a poet whose work I have admired for some time.  He has a rare capacity for being simultaneously absurd and serious in ways that are hysterical, but with devastating insights underneath.  I feel quite fortunate to have the PBPF, and can say, honestly, that each workshop I have attended there has been incredible.  As a person who has taken many workshops in my life, and who often finds them wanting, I am always astounded at the caliber of the classes at the festival, both in the instruction and in the community of poets I have encountered.  I only wish it could be more than just one week out of the year.
Read more