At some point I started thinking of them as how much closer I am to death. I’m not sure when. Maybe I was 35. Maybe I was 9 or 10. My grandmother took me to grave sites. Her sisters. Her parents. A friend she had in her 30s when she worked in the USSR. And I became obsessed with beginning and end dates. Finding them on tombstones. Calculating how close someone was to their birthday when they died.
I’m Irish, a recovering catholic and have to talk myself out of the quagmire of not my inevitable death but of the people I love. Like you, I dread saying goodbye so I’d do what is known as the Irish goodbye or French leave and simply disappear from parties. In college a friend coined the phrase playing on my last name that I simply pulled a Higganigan and leave a party like an apparition. I share this trait with my 3 older brothers and we are certain we get it from our Father. Hmmmm. The topics you introduce, Alex. Thank you! And the photo should be blown up to an enormous scale & hung over a fireplace! Brilliant!
Cummings wrote: “for life’s not a paragraph
And death i think is no parenthesis”
I’m Irish, a recovering catholic and have to talk myself out of the quagmire of not my inevitable death but of the people I love. Like you, I dread saying goodbye so I’d do what is known as the Irish goodbye or French leave and simply disappear from parties. In college a friend coined the phrase playing on my last name that I simply pulled a Higganigan and leave a party like an apparition. I share this trait with my 3 older brothers and we are certain we get it from our Father. Hmmmm. The topics you introduce, Alex. Thank you! And the photo should be blown up to an enormous scale & hung over a fireplace! Brilliant!
❤️
Thank you. We Sag’s love to escape.
I needed this. Thank you.
But hosting parties makes me feel loved, or maybe makes me feel like everyone loves me only for my parties