3/03/2008

the coat in the closet


Photo: My father's hands. September 2005.

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

Well Big Chuck, it certainly is a mystery that will never be answered.
As I said to my work campadre Bill, just before leaving for the islands, "Before you know it I'll be back at work, then the next thing you know, you'll be at my funeral saying swell things about me - maybe".
Jim

Junglechina said...

Asi es la vida. We are no more or less than penquins on the march, mayflies hatching, or salmon swimming up that big river. We just think we are more important or meaningful but we are passing through like everything else.

Doogman2 said...

We all do routine, mundane things. The beauty lies not in that we do them, not even in that we do them with some sort of emotion attached (even if that emotion may be boredom), but that said emotion is recordable, written down to share with others or help us remember years from now. That has the ability to provoke dialog, to compare our existence with others, to reach out....

Doogman2 said...

The picture of the hands: it's happening to all of us. It makes me wonder whether the skin's fragility in old age provides a window to the appearance of our livers or (scarier yet) our brains.