My father was a writer. He wrote all of his life, inflicting upon many of us his novels, plays, articles, essays, and self-help books. Some were marvelous; some merely well-intentioned. But of all the things he wrote, his journal is his legacy: by turns wise and bewildering, it neared 1,100 type-written pages when he died in 2010. Although perused many times, this is the first time it will be read - cover to cover, page after page.
Tuesday, November 20, 2012
Digging Through Old Arguments
They revisit old arguments, rehashing and digging through them as though somewhere amid the resentment and misunderstanding there was something worth finding. They are like people routing for buried treasure at the dump. It is unlikely anything is there, but if it is, is it worth the effort required and all that must be dug through before finding it?
Labels:
conflict,
metaphor,
misunderstanding,
search
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment