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02/24/2005: "Singing and thinking"
I protested so very much about "having to sing" tonight during Dad's presentation.... hehe! I don't think anybody was fooled.................
He made me sing "The Little Blue Man" again. He always does. I still don't get it. I'm really not sure about how Jesus fits in, but so many people seem to understand. I always identified as myself being the blue man, but I think Dad sees him as Jesus.
I always so it as loving someone almost foolishly in spite of being constantly shut down, and the pain of finally giving up the dream. I think Dad sees it as Jesus' persistence until the final rejection. Some people believe it is never too late. Some believe there comes that time. Me? I'm the one being rejected, never the one rejecting.
I always smile about Dad's presentations. He speaks and makes sense. I become flustered when I have to talk. I never know what to say, my tongue gets tied, and I feel I embarrass myself. About Mom, though, is I love when she writes. She is so creative in her way of expressing thoughts, ideas. We really need to finish the penguin page. Really.
What I think about sometimes is how I wish Mom and Dad would write books. I think Dad should write about the insights he has, the knowledge of so many deep and interesting thoughts, the result of reading, analyzing, feeling, researching, encapsulating, understanding, interpreting for all these years.
I think Mom should share her experiences as only she can do, with that creative turn on each and every little thing that makes her touch your heart. Then sometimes I think, too, about Mom-in-law and the loss of all she could have shared if she just would have, or would have had encouragement, or would have had more time..... and I hear Dad again saying it is up to each person to come to their understanding, so why should he write a book? and I imagine Mom saying that nobody would be interested in reading anything she has to say.
Both of them are so wrong. Why should their legacy be lost? None of us kids, not even all of us if we were to piece everything we could together could capture the tiniest fraction of either of our parents to hold on to forever. This makes me so sad.
Of course, I thought I would write a book.... or chapters.... or whatever..... but then I didn't want anybody to ever know my secrets. I didn't want to expose myself, so I don't write. Maybe I'd not mind people reading them after I die, but I just don't want that stuff around while I'm still alive and might be embarrassed.
How do people write their autobiography? how do they allow others to write about them? Such intimacy with strangers is disconcerting, but I feel it would be moreso with friends and family.
Thing is, when I write in here, maybe nobody will ever read it and that is okay. But some stuff would never show in here.... never.... particularly not with names....
I was reading an old entry about somebody who divorced after years of marriage and for nothing.... but I forget who it was, and I was purposely vague so they wouldn't be recognized, but now I wonder exactly what I was writing about. Maybe I should have been as clear about the hurt for people I care about as I was about Princess. Man I loved that dog.
