Elizabeth would have loved Iron Man 2.
Robert Downey Jr she referred to as "genius."
We loved to watch movies together.
She would have graduated this month from college
Every Sunday I get a report on who visits the blog. I see there are people with Smith College addresses looking ... we are all probably wondering why Elizabeth didn't get to graduate with you all.
All around NYU parties were taking place last week, and young women walking around with graduation gowns. I try to feel happy for them without feeling sorry that Elizabeth isn't among them. It is just plain impossible.
I saw my next door neighbor, six months older than Lizzy, and she is a grown woman. She is ready to start out in the world now, like so many of her friends. Good luck, you all!
A mother of a Smith graduate sent me this picture from the program.
All around NYU parties were taking place last week, and young women walking around with graduation gowns. I try to feel happy for them without feeling sorry that Elizabeth isn't among them. It is just plain impossible.
I saw my next door neighbor, six months older than Lizzy, and she is a grown woman. She is ready to start out in the world now, like so many of her friends. Good luck, you all!
A mother of a Smith graduate sent me this picture from the program.
Memory
When she was four or five, and it had rained very hard, we put on our boots and jackets and went to Harrison St. where the deepest puddles were. We splashed around until we felt we had tested the rain gear sufficiently and found it satisfactory. Or not. For a few minutes, we were roughly the same age.
photo by Enzo D.
photo by Enzo D.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
How Dina Aunty relished her memories. Mummy and Daddy were the same, talking about their yesterdays and smiling in that sad-happy way while selecting each picture, each frame from the past, examining it lovingly before it vanished again in the mist. But nobody ever forgot anything, not really, though sometimes they pretended, when it suited them. Memories were permanent. Sorrowful ones remained sad even with the passing of time, yet happy ones could never be re-created—not with the same joy. Remembering bred its own peculiar sorrow. It seemed so unfair: that time should render both sadness and happiness into a source of pain.
> From A Fine Balance by Rohinton Mistry
> From A Fine Balance by Rohinton Mistry