Posts Tagged ‘depression’

My father was a distinctly midcentury man.

He was a man of tract homes and manual transmissions, cigarettes and pipe tobacco, straw hats and huaraches, sand dunes and surf fishing, Frank Sinatra and Mel Tormé, pancakes with his kids on Saturday morning and roasted meats with his dad at the table on Sunday nights.  He was a dry martini/red wine with ice kind of guy: uncomplicated, elemental, rustic, reserved.

And yet, in his final decade, I found him nearly indecipherable. (more…)

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Dragons AheadNails clicking on the hardwoods, he pads toward my dawn-chilled room. I see his greyed muzzle poke around the open doorway, black nose wriggling. His old limbs are stiff, but he’s always been like that; he was never young. Churchill’s Black Dog was never a pup, never a young whelp filled with enthusiasm and love of life. He’s always been a grizzled, aged hound, waiting out his final days in lassitude and despair.

He snuffles.

Tottering in, he looks for a sunny spot but finds none in my shadowed den. Thick through the middle, callouses on his joints, his coat is dull with dust and dander and his droopy eyes are rheumy and silvered with cataracts.  He stumps over to the corner, turns two inelegant circles ’round his tail, and clumps down in a heap.

He sighs. (more…)

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The Red Knight, Parry’s nemesis in The Fisher King

I got very angry yesterday, after hearing the news of Robin Williams’ death, but I wasn’t angry with him. I was angry with two other people.

The first person I was angry with was an acquaintance who berated Williams for his suicide, calling him selfish and weak. Thankfully, many came to Williams’ defense, chastising this person for both his insensitivity and his ignorance.

The other person I was angry with was myself, because there was a time when I would have said something similar. (more…)

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