Buying a truck;1995
I’ve been following a progression of books, one into the other as if they belonged together. Losing Mum and Pup flowing into No more Words then falling into the memoirUnder a wing. The connectedness of the books doesn’t lighten the topic in my mind at all.
Fathers and mothers. I began wondering if these people loved each other. Why did they stay married? One group was very social, having crowds of friends in or around them all the time; the family built up high walls to reinforce their solitary safety net.
When I was married to Paul, my house was always crowded. Conversations flowed in and out like a colorful weaving every night…more on weekends. Art, photography, writing, politics, all talked of over a beer or glass of wine, all threaded through the cigarette and marijuana smoke. Now few visit here.
I find I am always taking pictures of my home. Occasionally I rearrange my empty rooms until they are so filled with things the rooms grow static.
George was raised like a military dependent moving every few years He learned not to make friends as he would always have to leave them behind. His solitary life style is a result of his parents actions, and he remains a very solitary person. I know he cherishes some special friends, and he interacts wonderfully with others when thrown into their circle. But he genuinely likes being alone.
They say when you get married, one person adapts to the life style of the other. Perhaps those long ago crowds were inspired by Paul, and I just flowed along. I know that I’m railing today against this emptier life in which George is so comfortable.