Thursday, October 12, 2006


Yesterday Sven and I escaped to Boston for a day of respite. My brother and his wife assumed Bea’s care. Still talkative, she worried about my dad’s absence. When told he had died, Bea explained that was impossible because, “We have only been married a year …”

A deadline for a script was another preoccupation.

Bea seems to be recalling her life, so full. The different periods replay in her mind much like a kaleidoscope, images which need to be experienced again before letting go …


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