christmas has come and gone and it’s that time of reflection as one year passes on and a new one beckons.
I was listening to a radio program about old photographs that people have collected over time discussing long gone relatives and looked at my own old-enough-to-be-in-black-and-white pictures. i wonder if anyone will explain who i used to be.
this christmas I was lucky enough to spend time with loved ones who invited me into their home, but I’ve become painfully aware that there is a finite measure of comfort before I feel overwhelmed with the presence of family. Seeing the impact of my presence in the reality of other peoples lives, while trying to figure out who I am, where children ask me my father’s name and i stumble, searching for the answer, to their surprise at my hesitation.
on my way back to greensboro i get an email from my mother wishing me merry christmas, which shows me that her email address is still still works. This stings, as my request for information about my father to this address went unanswered few months ago. i’m afraid to ask again, afraid to find out if it’s too painful to answer. or afraid to find out the truth.
i skim the email but don’t read it. the paralysis continues.