Thursday, October 5
During the last counseling session with my long time psychologist we explored my past, and delved into my earliest parental memories, in order to find possible sources of grief and anguish in my life. I shared what seemed to be innocent enough recollections, but he noticed that most had some subtle element of loss. For instance, when I was about four years old, my mother was sitting at the kitchen table chatting with a friend while I played a few feet away. Scribbling with crayons on paper, I would take them to her and she pretended to read musical notes, and then sing them. It felt wonderful and fascinating to me, and I was enthralled with this new game, but she eventually tired of my exuberance and demands. So, finally she told me that my notes did not mean anything. I was crushed, and have remembered all these years, though I don’t bear a grudge or anything. Nonetheless, I am more aware of how I learned that distances can exist and thwart seemingly strong emotional bonds.