Wednesday, July 30, 2008


Saturday, March 01, 2003

on a gray, hot, humid day, i died a little.

everyone in this position feels their loss is incomparable and thinks the words they write about it are profound and moving. they are not deterred by the universality of the feeling and the feebleness of their expressive powers. me neither.

if we, the mean, cannot convey profoundly, we ache no less than the great. churchill said, reflecting on the death of his wife, that "the light in my life went out forever." his hurt, his anguish was not greater than ours, of mine, of bobbie carpenter's, such a happy person married all her life to eddie, happy, not just content or resigned to,but happy with her life in elkton and her life with eddie. every day walking past our house on the way home, always smiling at nothing and everything and then that day eddie was driving down the street with the door open and not realizing it and the going to the doctor and the discovery of the brain tumor, the size of a golf ball and the hopeless operation in pittsburgh and the inevitable result. afterwards bobbie would walk the same way home but never she smiled again. the smile had gone out of her life forever.

it is like a death. perhaps that' the ultimate conceit but that's the comparison felt here. michelle was my other half, truly my soul mate. the two days apart earlier in the last week. everything i did, everything i read and thought was done with her in mind. gotta tell michelle about this, michelle has to read this, wonder what michelle will think of this, it was in those days that i knew what it would be like, that part of my life ended, i was going to die a little. because it wouldn't just be the pain, but the loss. i will not be able to go to art things or parties or study ulysses and the odyssey for a long time. what for? i have noone to talk to. noone to share with. share a life with. it's gone. my other half is gone. "michelle, michelle, michelle."

we were that rare couple who were truly better than the sum of our parts. as a couple we were a unit. we made each other better. we were a GREAT couple. "the fun couple," israel the photographer, said. everyone who saw us together saw it. they had never seen anything like it. dawn and sara. michelle's mom. strangers: israel, the man at temple, "are you two getting married?" "stop having so much fun," the lady at the ballet function, when we just started dancing spontandously in front of everyone.

names-child, little one, the molecules, the mollies, cherub, peach, cherubic cherub, "first bite for the baby," everytime we would start eating.

our first trip to new york:
-carnegie hall: "cole na vay (sp?), wagner, daniel baranbohm
-the opera: so enchanted, so in love, hoding her hand and not wanting to let it go

"i drink it"

"give it"

kaufman samuel, our wished for, dreamed about, strong, brave, loved, worshipped, never to be, little boy. i love you, kaufman. your daddy loves you.

leaving a message after she first got her toes painted "i think i have the prettiest toes in the world."

her excitement at everything; her willingness to do anything; her embrace of all i exposed her to

her closing in jenkins

posted by nietzsche at 1:58 PM

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