You are almost as old now as your parents were when they killed them, and soon you will be older than they got to be, they who have stayed twenty forever. They had dreams for you and for a world more suitable and habitable. I would like to talk to you about them and to have you tell me about yourself; to be able to recognize in you my own son and to let you find in me what I have of your father–both of us are his orphans. I would like to repair somehow this brutal severance or silence that has perpetrated the military dictatorship within the very flesh of my family. I would like to give you your own history, but not separate you from what you don’t want to separate from. You are big now, as I said.
(tearing at the photograph, also because i can’t help but think of the colleen turzynski story). in these reunions, what i always care more about is not the orphan but the unconditional love of the old.)
Best of the Transparent Hummingbird