Saturday, July 4, 2009

Musings on "Lament"

"Born on a snowy night in New Haven, he died twenty-five years later on a snowy slope of the Kaisergebirger."
Strange how death makes us think of the beginning again.
"When we gather now, there's always someone missing"
Exactly. Always someone missing. People will tell me I have a big family. That I have a lot of boys. But it feels so small to me. I think I might just be starting to know how many children are in our family. Usually if I am asked, I actually have to stop and think and count. The numbers just don't seem right.

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