July 11th, 1977
The physical death of my father is a superficial loss for me. My fear of his cruelty and of his capacity for violence drove me away from him years ago. The personality that I continue to experience as father exists deep within the memory of a five year old boy.
The loss is my mother’s. I am so worried about how she is going to manage now. She so totally embodies the dark parts of my personality. I can empathize completely.
She has lost her mate. But he was so much more than that to her. She needed him the way I needed Richard for awhile. He was her force, her motivation, her energy.
Now what will she do?