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One writes to make a home for oneself, on paper, in time, in others minds. Kazin
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| I noticed three women sitting in front of me, at a workshop on journaling through depression. They were rapidly shaking their leg the way EJ does. I couldn't help but wonder if they were seeking a way to easier and calmer days. Since EJ opened up to me I notice things about her that I no longer consider just a habit. She was easy to read all along -- now that I know. How is it that I couldn't see it then? How many years had to pass before I could be there to help and support her. All those empty looks I had collected from her I just tossed up as a typical teenage attitude. I remember being that way with my mother - I just assumed it was now my turn to be on the receiving end. I never knew or felt this emptiness, how could I have guessed it was more than I had thought. I remember taking a picture of her as she was lying on her bed with that "look". That look of not looking - blank - without expression - like her eyes were made of glass. I remember showing her the picture and telling her, "This is what I see all the time". I remember her telling me, "This is how I feel all the time". And still I didn't see. I didn't understand. I just threw my hands up and walked away, spitting out typical mom things about homework and laundry. Now seven years later I understand and I feel regret and fear. |
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