There is really no way to tell this story, to do it justice. There’s really no way to be poetic about it, and a short story written on the subject would easily turn into a novel the size of War and Peace.
I am talking about my family.
I wish I could convey to you, in a beautiful, poetic and subtle manner, all that is going on with my family right now. I wish I could communicate all of the complexities involved, over the years and throughout many generations, all the many issues and ailments and small triumphs and defeats.
But I can’t. I don’t have the time, the patience, the skill, the wisdom, nor the ambition right now to tell you everything. But oh, I wish I could tell you everything.
I wish there was someone out there that would want to listen to this story, too, to hear it and know it, and know me. To handle me crying and talking incoherently… and just, know…
Still, I have to say something.
So here, in no particular order and sans sense, is a cloud of words and feelings and actions and ideas about the subject:
Check the tags.
