I feel like I'd been writing angry, frustrating stuff. Like this piece on the HIV funding cuts. Read here. I also turned in a piece for an anthology, recalling a vulnerable time in my life when I was 18.
For my own sanity, I felt I needed to write something a little more...uplifting, grateful. I came up with this piece for the Huffington Post. On Father's Day eve, I'm happy I had a father to love and hate. Read here.
2 comments:
Nice piece. Your dad would be proud that you remember him in such a fond and unflinching way.
Beautiful, Noel.
My dad was a profuse letter writer. Years after his death we find his words tucked away in books on old crisp paper. Just last week I called my sister to read to her one I found that he had written to my daughters. It was like hearing his voice, and experiencing his wit and humor anew. We laughed so hard, we cried.
He always signed them 'love,' but my favorite letter of his he wrote to his adult gay son (and only son.) Three hand written pages and I only remember one line. He wrote to Bob, "I'm so proud of you."
It's a good thing to be able to look back with the clarity of age. Thanks for sharing, and listening.
Carson
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