T his is just me I'm talking about, but let's cut right to the chase: how about evangelical terrorism and emotional abuse? Yes, I know, yours isn't like that, and no one is ever made to feel wretched or small. (I even believe you.) By all means go to church if you want to! Even [...]
What was I thinking? Of course it's related to the book, i.e. The HELEN CHRONICLES: When Your Mother Falls Apart, the annotated collection of blog posts that tell the story of my mother’s chaotic last few years under the influence of dementia, Alzheimer’s, paranoia, schizophrenia, delusions, and hallucinations. All of a piece, too, those stories, [...]
Something deep and dark has found me. The trigger came yesterday morning when I remembered Lady the Wonder Dog (above). The locale in that photo, though probably irrelevant, is Camden, Maine in '78 or '79. A few years later my wife went on sabbatical, and we were set to go to Europe for six long [...]
But this time something else occurred: I saw the projection leave my body and jump into the message like a wraith, a barely-glimpsed black arrow, or a bird. Busted and surprised, I deleted the tweet immediately. A few minutes later, it happened again: something pushed my buttons, I lashed out, and sure as hell I saw the long black rope and pulled it in again. After that I wasn't angry any more.
"Just write," they tell me. "Just write." Something wants expression and I'm the one to do it, but not for the last few weeks. Editing the soon-to-be published collection of blog posts I wrote during my mother's final chaotic last four years on Earth precludes any letting go to be creative. It's also like washing [...]