The past always seems to be so close at hand, but when I try to bring it closer it strikes me and I recoil in sad surprise.
It happened tonight.
I reached out, held it for a moment and it crumbled into dust.
The dust burnt my fingers, and I felt stupid.
What I thought was yesterday was forty years more.
Forty.
How could it be?
Everything seems so real, so present, so easy.
In fact, it doesn’t exist except in a distant memory and it hurts.
And it is silent.
No voices come from there.
All week I have tried to draw them out, draw them near but they remain mute.
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8 comments:
“The past is never dead. It's not even past.”
― William Faulkner, Requiem for a Nun
Mx
Hello Mary, i'm better now, got over it.......ish
and you?ok?
And Me? Plodding through. My 98 year old dad is living with me now so things are, to say the least, different. He is happy not to be in that horrible long-term-care home but he grieves terribly for my mum who died of Covid in February. I do the best I can to make his days comfortable, but at his age, he has a lot of past to deal with and is tiring of this world of sickness, war, disaster, poverty, and ignorance.
Hope the family is keeping well. Better days to come, I think.
Mx
I hope so.... he will grieve terribly but remember - his daughter is really really special, the past and now is what we all have.
And both pass far too quickly.
xx
Any new Mr. Chris and Mr. Peter podcasts? Mx
Well... basically there has been one a month for the last four years (excepting July and August)!!
The most recent being available here ! (somewhere in the middle)
https://www.cfmradio.fr/bazart-a-4-ans-
Just listened to it. Theatre of the discursive absurdism? Waiting for Godot?
Very funny!
Mx
Well thank you! starring Wilma as The Professor and harmocist(a)
Other podcasts available here -https://www.cfmradio.fr/emissions/bazartland-615
we're always around the middle.
ish
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