GregKoren
The Face in the Window
Today is my 53rd birthday, and I'm celebrating it alone, in the shadow of my father-in-law's admittance yesterday to a fulltime facility for Alzheimer's patients. He'll be there until the day he dies, existing as a ghost of his former self, there but not. I'm very sad.
Bill's long, blue goodbye has me ruminating on my own mortality, my own life, and the experiences that have shaped who I am. They remind me that life is the story we tell ourselves about ourselves.
With that in mind, and with your indulgence, I would like to tell you a story from when I was a teen-ager living in Ohio, a story I'm calling The Face in the Window.
To be continued...
The Face in the Window
Today is my 53rd birthday, and I'm celebrating it alone, in the shadow of my father-in-law's admittance yesterday to a fulltime facility for Alzheimer's patients. He'll be there until the day he dies, existing as a ghost of his former self, there but not. I'm very sad.
Bill's long, blue goodbye has me ruminating on my own mortality, my own life, and the experiences that have shaped who I am. They remind me that life is the story we tell ourselves about ourselves.
With that in mind, and with your indulgence, I would like to tell you a story from when I was a teen-ager living in Ohio, a story I'm calling The Face in the Window.
To be continued...