Bad Company - Tess Gallagher

Gallagher and Carver

I suppose, sometime in the future, I will frequent cemeteries.

God – what an awful thought.

I don’t like to even imagine the scene.

Why would I be there? Not sure.

It seems that going there will bring plenty of heartache – the memories of the person that I will visit. Things I will say in my head to them, our conversations all taking place in my head.

Will I bring flowers? Momentos? Will there be a grave to tend to?

I’m too busy living to think about the dead…and I wish to be busy living for a long time.

I remember as a teenager thinking about my loved ones and how I would feel after they were dead.

In those days, I remember thinking that it would be so much better if I died before they did…so that I would not have to feel the pain of their death, and absence.

Pure selfishness.

Death is a difficult part of life. I’m not sure how I will react when death is a presence that becomes familiar to me.

Will I grow from death as I have often heard people do? Or will I shrink into a tight ball of black mass?

New Yorker Fiction Database update

Not making as much progress as I would like.

Last entry – 7/7/2003 – John Updike - The Walk with Elizanne - Row 358. Of course, the entry will shift down as I add most recent to the top.

Roughly 8 years down, only 78 more years to enter.

Reading, writing, running and being a dad…are proving to be serious competition against getting work done on the project.

It’s O.K. though.

I’ll get there someday.

Communist – Richard Ford

Even before my son was born I thought about how my parents behaved in their life when I was an infant, a baby, a child and young boy.

In what I am beginning to realize now as what was the last true/honest lucid discussion between my father and I in a motel room back in 2003, – before Alzheimer’s kicked into a degree that we could all clearly recognize, I was able to get the last few details I needed to complete the picture of what my father’s life was like as a new father and husband.

It was enough detail to solidify the pissed-off disposition I carried towards him several years before the discussion, and continue to carry today.

I’m able to keep those feelings neatly compartmentalized and draw upon the emotions they stir when I need to…but I don’t see the necessity to live daily with them in my life.

I suppose that I’ll wrestle with the damage of the divorce for the rest of my life. I’ve accepted that…soooo I’ll deal with it.

During several of our long evening walks as M and I discussed the timing and possibilities of starting a family, I’d drag out into the conversation the almost disbelief I had at my father’s behavior when he was 33-38. Now I know there are two parties involved in a divorce, and in the past I’ve said pretty much nothing about the role that my mother played in that whole affair. She factors into the decision that they made…but if I were to break it out and assign percentages of blame, I’d say it was 90% him 10% her. That measly 10% is also probably why I hardly mention her in these posts…she of course was a huge influence in my upbringing but at this time is my writing…I cannot bring her into this space – not yet.

I like to think that M and I are making better decisions and have established a better relationship than my parents had when my sister and I were young.

The relationships that the main character has in this short with the adult characters drove me to think about the future with my son and wonder about our relationship. It caused me to wonder about the relationship he will have with his mother.

It made me think about what my mother felt as she worked hard to raise my sister and I as my father spent hours and hours away from home…working.

It made me think about my mother and I after the divorce – our relationship.

The weight she carried the responsibility to care for two young children – alone.

Gossip – Frank Conroy

Frank Conroy - January 15, 1936 – April 6, 2005

Another really good short.

As Carver promised…a story to show us what it was and is like out there.

This story covers several decades but there was a particular piece that I related to.

A section of this story deals with the main character as a professor. A female student of the character/professor is a victim of some gossip linking her romantically/sexually with the professor…and there we have the storyline that I can understand.

It was difficult during my time in Romania to keep the gossip about me under control. In fact, there was no controlling it. I was able to keep the gossip concerning my romantic affairs to a minimum. Just a minimum…not completely under control.

I worked hard to make sure that I was not seen in the company of girls or women. I was careful not to be alone in classrooms with female students. Lines would be drawn and assumptions made.

As I’ve mentioned in previous posts, there were ample opportunities early in my time at the school where I could have established myself as man of many women…but I knew of the negative consequences associated with such a label.

Plus, I think I have a pretty realistic view of the world, and I know my place in it, and the reality of it is, that the fact that I was an American in the village only polished to a pretty decent shine what is underneath…a pretty average guy.

It was difficult for M and I to completely hide our relationship once we took that step, and we knew that tongues were wagging, but we worked our hardest to make our relationship look professional. Honestly, in retrospect, I’m pretty sure everyone knew.

Mid-summer of 2000, when the notice of our marriage appeared outside of the mayor’s office, everyone’s assumptions were proven true and our daily walks around town caused eyes to settle on us just a bit longer and the whispers and smiles to increase just a bit more.

Just as the student in this story felt the weight of the gossip, I’m sure that M and her family felt the weight of our relationship and marriage much more than I did or will probably ever know.