The house is emptier tonight. Earlier this day, we took Annie the cat to her new home. Earlier in the day, my sister’s grandchild came and wept because Pat is not here and she should be. Instead, we are here, and it is not the same. Pat’s grandchild took away some of the things that tugged on her heart and memories, and as the house emptied for the first time, and Pat’s cat was gone, Pat, herself was somewhat less present in this space.
In our review of papers, I found my sister’s wallet, and I found my mother’s wallet which must have been secured by my sister when my mom died. They are together now. I have them. And someday in the not-too-distant future, my wallet will join them, and someone else will have them all and hold their strangeness.
I remember losing my wallet at various times and panicking. All the trouble this caused. I was no longer valid without identification. Couldn’t drive. Couldn’t buy alcohol. Couldn’t pass in the manufactured world without my wallet.
When I look at my sister’s and mothers’ wallets there is nothing about their real identity there. There is just numbers and no stories. Our wallets are the shell of our soulless existence which is in conflict with our soulful existence.
The house is emptier tonight, Annie the cat’s absence tugs on my heart tonight. The fact is that the air is different in here now and all I have is these damn lying wallets with their fake representation of identity. I need to put the wallets away and go to bed and dream. Then I can stop this war with what is real and what is not. When sleep comes we souls can all be together again.
— DanielSouthGate
In our review of papers, I found my sister’s wallet, and I found my mother’s wallet which must have been secured by my sister when my mom died. They are together now. I have them. And someday in the not-too-distant future, my wallet will join them, and someone else will have them all and hold their strangeness.
I remember losing my wallet at various times and panicking. All the trouble this caused. I was no longer valid without identification. Couldn’t drive. Couldn’t buy alcohol. Couldn’t pass in the manufactured world without my wallet.
When I look at my sister’s and mothers’ wallets there is nothing about their real identity there. There is just numbers and no stories. Our wallets are the shell of our soulless existence which is in conflict with our soulful existence.
The house is emptier tonight, Annie the cat’s absence tugs on my heart tonight. The fact is that the air is different in here now and all I have is these damn lying wallets with their fake representation of identity. I need to put the wallets away and go to bed and dream. Then I can stop this war with what is real and what is not. When sleep comes we souls can all be together again.
— DanielSouthGate
I like the juxtaposition of soulless and soulful and your acquaintance with both.
ReplyDelete"...hold their strangeness," and "...the manufactured world." You manage to convey a great deal with phrases like this. Yes, wallets ARE strange, and partly because of the weird 'illegitimacy' that seems to loom when we lose them, which you describe well and rightly cite as being unimportant to the soul. I am glad Annie got a new home! (For Annie's sake, but not for yours, because you feel her absence.) (Macoff)
ReplyDeleteWow. Just...wow. Powerful stuff, and such an evocative way of sharing that overwhelming sense of absence a loss can bring (Zachary)
ReplyDelete