tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6670201345837905864.post1398077653071144802..comments2023-06-17T03:38:57.128-04:00Comments on The Squashed Bologna: a slice of life in the sandwich generation: Imagine thatVardahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13542045802860922751noreply@blogger.comBlogger4125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6670201345837905864.post-58212209042389883762011-01-22T05:07:05.628-05:002011-01-22T05:07:05.628-05:00Fantastic post. I love the idea of us all being al...Fantastic post. I love the idea of us all being all our ages inside - so true. When an old lady tells you that she still feels 18, part of her does. I felt for your father - being told to call your Dad Uncle to keep up the mirage of his double-life would have been heart-breaking.<br /><br />Thanks for sharing this story. And thanks for Rewinding at the Fibro today. :-)Life In A Pink Fibrohttp://lifeinapinkfibro.blogspot.comnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6670201345837905864.post-10743648617433159542011-01-21T23:06:16.596-05:002011-01-21T23:06:16.596-05:00Life is often like that isn't it? I long for i...Life is often like that isn't it? I long for it all to be tidily wrapped up in a bow but it won't let me no matter how much I tug. Beautiful post about your father.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6670201345837905864.post-20599554545077569682011-01-21T19:36:26.072-05:002011-01-21T19:36:26.072-05:00I loved that post - Thank you.I loved that post - Thank you.A Farmer's Wifehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17094401205258678969noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6670201345837905864.post-41737724583582533402010-09-12T12:28:39.766-04:002010-09-12T12:28:39.766-04:00Ruminative is a lovely word.
I was rereading Paul...Ruminative is a lovely word.<br /><br />I was rereading Paul Auster's book, "The Invention of Solitude," just a few days ago. He speaks of his father's passing and of how his father was invisible in this world in his life. Unknown by those around him, and also unknown to himself.<br /><br />Your father sounds as though he was instead a man of substance. A man who looked into the mirror and saw past the exterior to the boy within. To the heart within. To the soul within.<br /><br />And as though he was a man who knew how to make others see him. The thought that he would summon his children to hear his stories one last time before the telling was no longer possible?<br /><br />That has made me cry.<br /><br />And that you saw him? That you can share him with me this morning?<br /><br />That's just beyond lovely.<br /><br />My condolences to you.<br /><br />And thank you.krishttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15216357183896156044noreply@blogger.com