Winter diary.
“Do you know how you felt when you would lean all the way back in a chair, and just before you were about to tip over, at the very last second, you’d catch yourself ? That’s how I feel all the time.” ― Richard Pryor
“Through me you go into a city of weeping; through me you go into eternal pain; through me you go amongst the lost people” ― Dante Alighieri
a friend
in harlem
is a friend
indeed
Up to 1 4 5
To visit David Rhodes [ @augustuzziah ]
Tenacious uptown street photographer
To drink coffee at red kup
(flat white)
deliver fungus
photos at Jackie Robinson park
and cross paths w / D’s friend Joey and dog
(broke my cheap shutter release)
A to the G home
For a long time it was just mom and me, in a haunted house on a hill, in the woods, near a lake. It was a tough life, she was a tough lady with a big personality and big sadness and bad breaks. We had fun. We ate TV dinners on tray tables and watched Jeopardy. We ran into each other at midnight in the kitchen for milk and cookies. We kept each other going. She managed to do what I strive to do every day—get up and feed the kids and go to work and keep it all going despite the big sadness, despite the bad breaks.
She made a lot of things possible by letting me be me. She made a lot of things difficult by her being her. There are so many memories only shared by the two of us. As a parent I know she had so many more memories of raising me that I will never recall. Losing her I know only our love survives.