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.
Thursday, October 29, 2015
Beyond Age
It is annoying that people knowing the boys' ages think they must then be typical of that age (or of an expectation of what is typical). Since about age two people have thought they could discern from this single fact just what they were like. I expect it will be the same with Matt, and I anticipate being no less annoyed.
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