Sometimes You Just Want a Hamburger. - The days when I am really sick of myself, I just want a hamburger. This is how I can tell exactly how sick of myself I am- by how badly I want to sit down...
Monday, March 28, 2011
Letter to Campbell McGrath
Consequently, you will know how to piece them together into a vision of your own design. -James Wright, "A Letter to Franz Wright"
I am not in Italy. Nor have I ever been. I take you and James Wright at your descriptions of it, which I couldn't touch if I were standing there.
Like both of you, I am a father. But again, a difference: I have girls.
I, too, have smashed my crude hammer against a wall of jewels and tried to gather up the pieces. I have wanted to collect both wall and splintered hammer and set them at my daughters' feet when they are ready (if they should have any use for a shattered hammer).
I like that your sons are with you, creating and sharing your Italy. I love that their words are your words, a distinct difference from James Wright's letter to his son, then distant from him.
"The hopes and dreams of fathers for their sons" (or daughters) and the desire to pass along something worthwhile, maybe even beautiful, of my own hopes and dreams and life.
I read your letter to James Wright and then re-read his letter to his son Franz and the words and sentiments swirl into deep blue water and I can't decide whether to watch or jump in