"The essayist is a self-liberated man, sustained by the childish belief that everything he thinks about, everything that happens to him, is of general interest." ~~ E.B. White
. . . On this day my mother ended her life in 1992.
What do I say? I watch the words hit the page this morning and I know if I charted the distance between them and the pulverizing impact of her suicide it would take more than a millennium to cross the divide.
The facts of it all sit like dusty stones – cold, and hauntingly still. It was the second time in the span of a year that she talked of ending her life. We had intervened the first time, and, for the moment, succeeded, at what I wonder. It only delayed the inevitable and in the days after her death, I would learn from her oldest friends that she had been talking about suicide since I was a boy. What had it been like for my father? I can’t imagine.
Sadie looked at him and said, “I did look you up online a little. You don’t have any assets.” It wasn’t a question.
Harvey’s jaw wanted to drop, but didn’t. “That’s true.”
“I have assets.”
“I’m happy for you.” What the hell else could he say? He was too busy keeping his sense of humor pinned to the mat. She had large breasts and when she told him she had assets he could’ve sworn she puffed her chest out. That her breasts had nothing to do with what she meant by assets, he understood. It was simply one of those moments when, alas, the healthiest choice on the table was silencing humor.
They were sitting across from each other at a picnic table in the picnic area of a large town park, boasting some 1,500-square acres. The smell of pine trees turned air into a delicacy. Across the way, kids were playing soccer. It was Spring and you could hear the birds.
Sadie had dark hair parted in the middle, a cataract had reached the base of her neck and stayed there. She continued. “The last man I got serious with had a problem with prenuptial agreements. I need to protect my assets. You can understand that, can’t you?”
“I can, very much so,” Harvey said, and meant. And he did mean it. Yes, he didn’t have any in-depth knowledge of life story. However, he knew enough about life to recognize and know she’d been deeply wounded along the way. Her instinct to protect herself didn’t come from nowhere.
Harvey looked down, and then back up at Sadie.
“Sadie, how long would you say we’ve known each other?”
“I don’t know. Between phone conversations, texting, in person? Two, three hours maybe?”
“Today is the first day we’ve met face to face, and you’re worrying about prenuptial agreements.”
The woman asked me, “Why do you tell people you love them?”
I’d just said, “Love you, brother,” to the man who bagged up some groceries for me. The man always greets me with a smile and a good to see you. I said, “Because that’s how I feel.” “But you don’t even know him.” She sounded appalled. “I don’t have to know somebody to feel loving towards them.” “Nobody ever really feels loving towards someone, unless they know them.” “I don’t know what to tell you.” “I mean I know when I like somebody, or, sometimes, you know, sometimes you know straight away you don’t like someone.” “Hold up.” Her head tilts. The movement asks, “What?” “How is it knowing you like or don’t like someone without knowing them works, and feeling loving towards someone you don’t know makes no sense to you?”
“It’s two different things.”
He knew the healthiest word and said it. “Okay.”
Two hours later they were out for a walk. A neighbor down the street had a box of puppies out front so they could get some sun. He watched her face light up with joy when she saw the puppies, hurrying over to get a closer look.
“Honey, look! We can adopt one, she said so. Look at them. Don’t you just love them?!”
In the wake of former President Donald Trump’s defense of those calling for the hanging of former Vice-President Mike Pence during the January 6 insurrection, , a telling exchange occurred between ABC’s chief Washington correspondent, Jonathan Karl, and John Barrasso of Wyoming, the third-ranking Republican in the Senate. I thought an edit would save a bit of time, and help Barrasso make his point with, well, pin-point accuracy.
Actual exchange:
Karl: “Can your party tolerate a leader who defends murderous chants against his own vice-president?”
Barrasso: “Well, let me just say, the Republican party is incredibly united right now and … I think the more that the Democrats and the press becomes obsessed with President Trump, I think the better it is for the Republican party. President Trump brings lots of energy to the party, he’s an enduring force.”
This writer’s edit.
Karl: “Can your party tolerate a leader who defends murderous chants against his own vice-president?”
Kahrmann Blog 