The Preoccupation of Lee H.
Today, I read about a man who lost his family 70 years ago. He cannot remember the faces of his mother, father, brother. A few years ago, he wrote about his experience. He wrote a few hours every day. He says, writing about his experience shatters his soul.
I don't know about this. I only know about the consequences of 70 years ago. Displaced water seeps and dislodges everything forever. All foot soldiers like babies mouth for milk thereafter. Babies begin anew every day.
It is as if we have forgotten to tell each other soft cheek hair contains all messages from our ancestors. Is that not enough for a life? For now?
They said to me when they bathed her "your mother was beautiful". Of course, she is. And she whispers often. She whispers how beautiful it all is even if humanity seems lost. Her whispers confused among the crackling. She whispers among the foot soldiers, and patiently waits to be heard. She kisses each of them. And, as if confusion becomes a blanket, each surrenders.