Thursday, April 16, 2009

My sister sent along the Times article on Nicholas Hughes. I’d seen the obituaries, more about his parents than Nicholas, rehashing the controversies, battles fought in verse. Even in the Times’ article Nicholas is at best, part of the ensemble.

I feel for the survivors, sometimes we don’t know what we’re in for, other times we know too well and can’t avoid it as he or she is our parent or sibling. Nicholas’ girlfriend who knew just where to look, if he went missing and where he could, would be found. How horrible to have to carry that knowledge and then to discover the reality.

Depression is so awful it robs you of joy, of energy, of life. It plays tricks on the ones closest, he seems happy to day his energy is so much better, enough energy to take ones life.



Anonymous VJ said...

Thanks Kim, Oh for the days. Well I recall arguing at some great lengths to some feminist friends way back when about the seriousness of Plath's depression. How much was just unknown, unknowable & certainly untreatable at the time, given the circumstances & state of knowledge. But books and reams of papers, whole forests were felled to essentially hold just one man, Ted Hughes, responsible. Ad he grieved for the rest of his life too. It's dramatic impact on families can profoundly echo down through the years & decades. It's real, tangible & ghostly presence is denied at everyone's peril, and surrounds us all where and when we least suspect it.

Here's wishing you brighter thoughts too! Cheers & Good Luck, 'VJ'

8:27 AM  

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