At what price, memory? Ask the amnesiac. Have that conversation with an aphasic. We can reminisce about such things with our loved-ones, though strangers we are to them as they fade-to-death with Alzheimer’s disease. [...]
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…and it’s about time. Public school, anyway, for our household. My three children were born four years apart, give or take few months or so. That’s a lot of trips to the not-so-ivory towers, back and forth, multiple times per week, sometimes multiple times per day. Let’s add eight more years schooling to the first [...] [...] Sometime approaching my childhood’s end I began waking up to what I thought at the time were nightmares. The dream was that I would live forever, that I would never die, and that I would forever explore all things in all directions… forever. This, at that time, was terrifying. A few years earlier my father [...] [...] |
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