Well, in my case she moved to higher ground: Aloof. Didn't work
though, not when years later we found ourselves in the same room - at
her instigation. She, my greatest love, couldn't speak except a
stutter. Literally.

Talk about obliterating time, I wanted to put my arm around her - once
her safest place.

Instead I played with my grandson, on the floor, before he could talk
- in part to cover for his grandma. It was all only a moment, and the
monster she had created never emerged from the closet. Everyone was
confused, except the 9-month-old who laughed and laughed at a little
fuzzy bunny rabbit pursuing him across the carpet.

Moral: Don't tell anyone about the "monster."

Because sooner or later the door opens... and out pops a little bunny
rabbit.



On Jun 7, 6:14 pm, rigsy03 <[email protected]> wrote:
> I think my children would be hurt if I wrote honestly- so I won't. Two
> especially, who would read between the fictional lines however masked.
>
> On Jun 7, 4:33 pm, "d.b.baker" <[email protected]> wrote:
>
> > On Jun 7, 4:59 pm, rigsy03 <[email protected]> wrote:
>
> > > I have been dipping into a philosophy forum and rattling minds...
>
> > How 'bout Joyce Carol Oates (NYT) on outing love 
> > letters?http://www.nytimes.com/1999/05/18/opinion/words-of-love-priced-to-sel...
>
> > My ex said I was the greatest of such letter writers, and following a
> > painful two month separation we burnt them all - knowing we'd look
> > foolish if read today.
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