Field Notes from the Diaspora

fond of marginalia, & those who read it. married (see: footnotes). what accrues in the old alphabet, gathered under #הגיגים

[tigerlilypurr]

[monamoni]

Upside down fig tree in Bacoli, Italy. No one is quite sure how the tree ended up there or how it survived, but year after year it continues to grow downwards and bear figs.

[tigerlilypurr]

there is only so much dignity a person can maintain while her heart is being asked to understand the unacceptable.

[justbeyourownheroe]

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[emmaloveslyrics]

Transatlanticism // Death Cab for Cutie

[tigerlilypurr]

no need to worry. i have only converted a feeling i cannot articulate into eight hundred dollars of perfume.

[gliklofhameln]

Pocket watch from Switzerland, early 20th century. Silver; niello; enamel.

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Bob Dylan in the NYT today, in a piece where a few artists in their 80s were asked about the best and worst parts of reaching that age, and whether they had advice for the president on his getting to the milestone. (Dylan apparently demurred on the final question, not surprisingly.)

Chris Willman

[tigerlilypurr]

[tigerlilypurr]

i’m almost too afraid to ask, but, on belay?

[tigerlilypurr]

[tigerlilypurr]

my dad retired from the police department after twenty years, when i was in third grade.

he left because my mom had cancer. she would be away for a while, getting better, and there were two children at home who needed him.

i understood more of it on my birthday, sitting in a hospital bed beside my mom and opening presents. the first one i unwrapped was a sega genesis i had not asked for. my parents didn't allow game consoles at all, and television was for weekends. i understood from the exception that my mom was sicker than anyone had told me.

she got better, so i let the year end in the way children are allowed to believe things end.

i did not understand there was more to know until high school, when my sister and i were cleaning out the garage. we found two bottles of wild turkey hidden in different places, each with a different amount remaining. it took me a moment to understand that my dad had been drinking alone out there, out of sight, and rarely enough that he forgot where he had stashed at least one bottle.

my dad didn't spend much time in the garage, and there was a large, fully stocked bar in the living room, so the bottles didn't seem like ordinary drinking. they had to belong to that year, when my father held the house upright and made sure the strain never entered our consciousness. he absorbed what was happening so fully that we never knew what it cost him.

[tigerlilypurr]

[tigerlilypurr]

i'm having an allergy flare that has me congested and coughing.

the skilled nursing rehab where my dad is staying won’t let anyone in with respiratory symptoms, which is as understandable as it is unbearable.

so i'm lying on my dad’s side of my parents’ bed, in his old 49ers shirt, reading one of his books. i doused myself in his yatagan cologne, but i can’t smell it. my nose is too stuffed up.

[tigerlilypurr]

didn’t have time to find my copy before i left. daddy must have bought another one, because i found this on his bookshelf at home.

i’ve promised to give this one back

[tigerlilypurr]

my mom called this morning and mentioned my dad had lost his balance, but thankfully his wheelchair was right there. afterward, he noticed his vision had gone blurry and he wanted to see the eye doctor today.

this is a man who believes most medical appointments can be improved by not attending them. when he wanted one immediately, i knew he was downplaying the severity.

i said it might be neurological. we should call for medical help now. my mom said no, and then she got angry, the way she always does when i suggest this.

i knew if we kept talking, we would only be talking. so i made my excuses and got off the phone. then i called 911.

when i called my mom back to tell her to unlock the door for the paramedics, she was furious.

but i would rather be rude than late.

he had a stroke. i wish i'd been wrong.

i'm flying home tomorrow. alone, because the house is mid-renovation.

anyway, make the phone call. be the bad guy. it's better than the alternative.

[jt1674]

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[tigerlilypurr]

where do you find yourself in the universe’s quieter temperaments. the fleeting twinkle that appears differently depending on who is looking, and why.