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.
Friday, March 20, 2015
Compartmentalizing Life
I have compartmentalized life, placing each relationship and every aspect of time into its own part of memory, insulated or protected each from the others even though protection may not have been what was in their interest. I limit their interaction and in some instances their very awareness of one another. I am trying to control and maybe it is not as protective as I think, though I am not so sure of that.
Labels:
control,
memory,
protection,
relationships,
uncertainty
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