I've posted this before, but I wish to repost to remember, to never forget: From Blogizdat LJ:
I first wrote and posted this on July 28th, 2005, reposted on July 28th, 2007 with slight revision, and again on July 27, 2010 revised once more, with an additional commentary: On July 28th, 1966, our family went on a picnic outing with friends to celebrate the birthday of a young South American teacher who was living with us at the time. We drove a few kilometers away from our town to a small undeveloped beach on the Tocantins river, where we had a picnic lunch, after which my dad took a nap in a hammock, and my mom went down the beach to a shack to change into swim wear, while the several of us kids and young teens splashed about in the warm and shallow water. Then, the unthinkable happened.Read the rest here.
Reposting from Blogizdat July 25, 2007, originally posted on July 25, 2005, slightly edited to make it up-to-date:
I was at home in bed in the wee hours of the morning 26 years ago today, when the phone rang: it was my brother, calling from overseas to tell me my father was having a heart-attack on the front porch of the family home, and when I called back a few minutes later I was told that Dad had just died of a heart-attack on the front porch of the family home at 51 years of age.Read the rest here.
“They were kissing. Put like that, and you could be forgiven for presuming that this was a normal kiss, all lips and skin and possibly even a little tongue. You’d miss how he smiled, how his eyes glowed. And then, after the kiss was done, how he stood, like a man who had just discovered the art of standing and had figured out how to do it better than anyone else who would ever come along.”
Neil Gaiman (Anansi Boys)