Disclosure: the giving out of information.

open_bookDo not reveal your thoughts to everyone, lest you drive away your good luck. — Apocrypha, Ecclesiasticus 8:19

A certain daily reading came to me at the right time. When I think about all those Dave Eggers/Ricky Moody/Jonathan Franzen-esque poetic and exhibitionist accounts of a parent dying slowly and gruesomely I get a little sick. The objectification. “Fiction” or not, I don’t care. These days, I don’t like it. On another hand, I have the desire to bear witness. To tell someone all theses little —  and big — things I’m living … horrible, sad and sweet alike.  Texas catheters, seizures, and the ongoing crumbling of a once fiercely strong man.

No one ever accused me of being an open book, that’s for sure. But how to know what to do with all of this. I would tell someone. I am sure I will tell someone sometime. But right now it is all just bunching up.

I watched a movie the other night, The Savages, in which I imagine the writer was bearing witness. The story was weak, tho, and I couldn’t believe they got Phil Hoffman and Laura Linney to do the film. Probably just killing some time. Right now I am a fairly jaded and biased judge of just about everything. So don’t mind me.

One thing I’ve noticed: seems like every other commercial on TV is for Cancer Treatment Centers of America or a similar facility. Has it always been so or do I just notice more now? Was also wondering … all the famous people dying in the past year — is it the usual rate? Feels like more than usual. But it may just be that I am older and more aware than I once was.



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3 responses to “Disclosure: the giving out of information.

  1. superdave524

    I saw The Savages recently, too. Not awesome, but not awful. More about the kids trying to come to terms with the destruction their dad wrought upon them and their inability to connect with anyone because of their rotten childhood than the trauma of his last illness. Your dad, it seems, was not a bad dad, so maybe that movie wasn’t made for you.

    Mom went through a fairly brutal respiratory illness before succumbing to it three years ago, but she lived in a convent and had good and constant care. She also had her wits about her until the end. Dad was alive, then just wasn’t. Heart attack at 47. In neither case did I get much closure, because mom never wanted to talk about old stuff (obviously, the Eccessiasticus verse hasn’t really sunk in for me, has it?). Anyway, he’s lucky to have you.

  2. thank you, SD, as always for your thoughtful reply to this post, and my other posts. i don’t know why you care … but i am humbled that you do.

    you raise a good point that i am lucky to have the time and closure with my dad. i am sorry you didn’t have that with your parents. feel like i’ve been to hell and back with my parents the past 5 years but the key part is … AND BACK. after all the crap, and the drama, i feel fortunate to have had been here to forgive my Dad and see him though to a graceful end. he was a wonderful father, who created a warm, loving and vibrant family and network of friends. he deserves every bit of devotion i drape on him.

    indeed, the savages was not awesome and not awful either. i’ve seen worse. you’re right, it wasn’t made for me — those characters were coming to terms with the end of a man who gave them a shitty life. by its nature, that story has got to suck. am reminded of a note i gave to a scribe friend, “tragedy arouses fear and pathos.” i think the savages, for me, was a little thin on pathos. it just needed a bit more sympathy to make the kids not seem like self involved jerks. this is a theme i keep brushing up against. i may just be projecting. even with that aside, the film WAS messy. the end when she was jogging with the ex lover’s knee-impaired labrador … what was that? it was inexplicably shoehorned in there, as were several other non sequiturs.

  3. superdave524

    You’re more than a little bit alright, Col.

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