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Jul. 12th, 2011 09:33 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kingtycoonso my telephone broke in a way that... well it broke in a way that ten years ago you wouldn't notice - now it operates like an old timey telephone in that it rings and I answer it - and that is all. I guess I could dial a number - if I knew anybodies. Even my old folks don't have the same number. I can call my old car dealership I guess - the one phone-number I always remember.
It's been a weird year for phones. It's been a weird year for a lot of things.
I think. I think that this week young Agatha will face death. I think before the month is out her great-grandmother will die. And that is very sad, and not at all sudden. I always liked her - best of that branch of kind-of family. Thelma. They call her mother- when her first grandchild came she said she was too young to be anyone's gramma - so she told her grandkids to call her mother. So close to 90. I liked her - I mean she always got dressed up and put on her makeup or perfume or whathave you to meet me at the door - which was lovely. I think I'll try and go and find out about it.
I was thinking about what I might tell young Agatha about these things. But I don't know. I thought about what I think about death. At first I remembered that I didn't know my grandfathers - they both died in my memory. My grandmothers - I remember, but they were distant in serious ways - linguistically, geographically - they had their own realities in the end. Both of them - I wasn't close with them. I didn't have a feeling. I was thinking - nobody I really like has ever died - then I remembered my poor uncle and his son both in a month of each other last year - my poor cousin on the heroin - his own kids running and playing at his funeral. Maybe they didn't know him. I didn't, not really. His dad I knew- well enough. Sad - well. Not for me. I"m starting to think I don't have a good understanding or mechanism for facing death. Because I looked at my aunts and cousins and my uncle's poor wife there at the wake - and they were all tears and horror - it was really, really sad - and for them I felt a terrible sympathy - I wanted for them - I wanted for them a better feeling that I had no way of conjuring, and so I sat and was quiet and when people wanted hugs they got them, when they wanted words I tried.
But I never thought of how sad it will be not to see them anymore. I didn't think it was sad. I mean, not in a callous hateful way - I mean, it isn't sad. People go - it's not what happens. Isn't it? Never again - I might not have the concept ironed out. Maybe I just don't have the skill of missing the absent. Bad at noticing details - like a dirty room - it upsets people- other people - not me, who knew the room was dirty? Symmetry? Why? It matters man - to a lot of people - and it's just something I don't see - like ultraviolet light or radio frequencies.
I wonder why.
It's been a weird year for phones. It's been a weird year for a lot of things.
I think. I think that this week young Agatha will face death. I think before the month is out her great-grandmother will die. And that is very sad, and not at all sudden. I always liked her - best of that branch of kind-of family. Thelma. They call her mother- when her first grandchild came she said she was too young to be anyone's gramma - so she told her grandkids to call her mother. So close to 90. I liked her - I mean she always got dressed up and put on her makeup or perfume or whathave you to meet me at the door - which was lovely. I think I'll try and go and find out about it.
I was thinking about what I might tell young Agatha about these things. But I don't know. I thought about what I think about death. At first I remembered that I didn't know my grandfathers - they both died in my memory. My grandmothers - I remember, but they were distant in serious ways - linguistically, geographically - they had their own realities in the end. Both of them - I wasn't close with them. I didn't have a feeling. I was thinking - nobody I really like has ever died - then I remembered my poor uncle and his son both in a month of each other last year - my poor cousin on the heroin - his own kids running and playing at his funeral. Maybe they didn't know him. I didn't, not really. His dad I knew- well enough. Sad - well. Not for me. I"m starting to think I don't have a good understanding or mechanism for facing death. Because I looked at my aunts and cousins and my uncle's poor wife there at the wake - and they were all tears and horror - it was really, really sad - and for them I felt a terrible sympathy - I wanted for them - I wanted for them a better feeling that I had no way of conjuring, and so I sat and was quiet and when people wanted hugs they got them, when they wanted words I tried.
But I never thought of how sad it will be not to see them anymore. I didn't think it was sad. I mean, not in a callous hateful way - I mean, it isn't sad. People go - it's not what happens. Isn't it? Never again - I might not have the concept ironed out. Maybe I just don't have the skill of missing the absent. Bad at noticing details - like a dirty room - it upsets people- other people - not me, who knew the room was dirty? Symmetry? Why? It matters man - to a lot of people - and it's just something I don't see - like ultraviolet light or radio frequencies.
I wonder why.
