Amy
Who am I writing for, if Amy is no longer reading this blog?
Even though I know that Amy is dead now, and I even found it surprisingly comforting carrying the box with her ashes in it, I have the feeling I am still watching for her to show up online, make a funny comment here or on Facebook, send me an email with a joke, a rant, her professional advice (which I might or might not heed) … Over the years I have become accustomed to feeling connected to Amy in so many different ways, although telepathy, the most fundamental of all connections, never let us down until two weeks ago. There are many scholarly and thoughtful and entertaining essays and art works dealing with “remote presence”, but how does one learn to live with remote absence?
I was glad that Paddy went with me to Michigan and that we were able to drive to Albuquerque from there with Dan and Pat. I think it was good for Paddy to be with his uncles then (and he said the first evening that he was glad Dan and Pat are still Dan and Pat), but he also did a fantastic job of looking after me – and I have to admit that I actually did need looking after sometimes. The most natural and obvious thing now would be to send an email to Amy to tell her about it, also to tell her about meeting her friends and colleagues in Michigan, to tell her about the long conversation I had with Mother – except that Mother and I talked for a long time about how we will both miss sharing things with Amy.
Paddy and I got home on Wednesday, and I am happy to be home again, but I am still feeling a bit lost. Part of that, at least, might just be exhaustion. I haven’t slept well over the past two weeks, and jet lag seems to get worse as one gets older (at least Peter is convinced of that), but nothing seems to feel quite real now.
I want to try to write myself back into reality, but who am I writing for, if Amy will no longer read it?
From the County Press in Lapeer, Michigan
Even though I know that Amy is dead now, and I even found it surprisingly comforting carrying the box with her ashes in it, I have the feeling I am still watching for her to show up online, make a funny comment here or on Facebook, send me an email with a joke, a rant, her professional advice (which I might or might not heed) … Over the years I have become accustomed to feeling connected to Amy in so many different ways, although telepathy, the most fundamental of all connections, never let us down until two weeks ago. There are many scholarly and thoughtful and entertaining essays and art works dealing with “remote presence”, but how does one learn to live with remote absence?
I was glad that Paddy went with me to Michigan and that we were able to drive to Albuquerque from there with Dan and Pat. I think it was good for Paddy to be with his uncles then (and he said the first evening that he was glad Dan and Pat are still Dan and Pat), but he also did a fantastic job of looking after me – and I have to admit that I actually did need looking after sometimes. The most natural and obvious thing now would be to send an email to Amy to tell her about it, also to tell her about meeting her friends and colleagues in Michigan, to tell her about the long conversation I had with Mother – except that Mother and I talked for a long time about how we will both miss sharing things with Amy.
Paddy and I got home on Wednesday, and I am happy to be home again, but I am still feeling a bit lost. Part of that, at least, might just be exhaustion. I haven’t slept well over the past two weeks, and jet lag seems to get worse as one gets older (at least Peter is convinced of that), but nothing seems to feel quite real now.
I want to try to write myself back into reality, but who am I writing for, if Amy will no longer read it?
From the County Press in Lapeer, Michigan
posted by Aileen at Friday, September 19, 2008
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home