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Abandoning a Cat
> And the cat went back to being our pet.

​> and cats and books were my best friends when I was growing up.

​> These questions—along with that of how the cat beat us home—are still unanswered.
> Another memory of my father is this:

​> I should explain a little about my father’s background.

​> Things he never could have written in his letters, or they wouldn’t have made it past the censors, he put into the form of haiku—expressing himself in a symbolic code, as it were—where he was able to honestly bare his true feelings.

​> Yet he must have felt a compelling need to relate the story to his son, his own flesh and blood, even if this meant that it would remain an open wound for both of us.

​> is breathe the air of the period we live in,

​> I understand all the more now why he closed his eyes and devoutly recited the sutras every morning of his life.

​> Still, that solitary raindrop has its own emotions, its own history, its own duty to carry on that history. Even if it loses its individual integrity and is absorbed into a collective something. Or maybe precisely because it’s absorbed into a larger, collective entity.
via-justin-duke  father  parenting  haruki-murakami 
13 days ago by jasdev
What Kind of Father Am I? - The American Scholar

Long after it had become apparent that our son had not contracted a fatal disease, I kept thinking—as I again do, in remembering the event—of the errors I had made, of what I should have done instead, of how helpless I had felt following my discovery that the rat had escaped.
thinking  father  son  family  essay  from instapaper
4 weeks ago by aries1988
This week, the world lost a great and caring , a , a , and . Thank You to…
physician  CommunityLeader  patriot  father  from twitter_favs
6 weeks ago by jonesdlwa

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