August 18, 2014
We read The Fantastic Flying Books of Morris
Lessmore last night. In the book, Morris has a diary in which he writes “of his
joys and sorrows, of all he knew and everything he hoped for.” Surprisingly, I
didn’t realize this would make me sad. It did, and I had to let Cate read some
of the pages for me. It is a beautiful book as well, but somehow sad in its
beauty rendered in black and white and sepia. Characters who read become color.
Characters who lose reading or books become sepia or black and white.
After reading it, Will told me he lost his
last tooth while at the Donnovan’s house. It was his left incisor. He brought
it to me and I held it and was sad. The night ended with general peace after
talking about how my sadness is partly due to my inability to focus on a
diagnosis with determination. It makes me fumble along without direction as I
vacillate between sadness, numbness, and anger. Cate was wonderful for me,
talking through this intense emotion and supporting me through it.
I would let the dog in my bed... and the kids but I would not allow Wille "The Mark" Gillham anywhere near my bed.
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