Saturday, October 3, 2009

Vision II

Which is not to say my parents didn’t love each other, since I sincerely believed that they did. I think even then, I questioned what their version of love was, thinking that there must be something different, more open and giving. My father very rarely spoke of my mother now, and I wasn’t sure why. I went to see him one day and take him to lunch. As we sat at the restaurant, waiting for our food, he began to talk.
“You know my wife, she died a little while ago,” he said.
“Oh, I’m sorry, that’s terrible,” I responded, not sure where he was going.
“She died, just a little while ago. And it was so horrible. She died giving birth, there was too much blood; they just couldn’t stop the blood,” he became more agitated, obviously horrified in his mind, trying to convey the scene to me.

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