Tuesday, November 20, 2007

All About My Mother

Nod to Pedro Almodovar. My narrative lacks spiked gazpacho, erotic toreadors, or PMS, but it does share with that Spanish cineaste a bit of revelation, release, and redemption. This is the woman, Anna, who introduced me and my dear wife to her husband, Jerry, last Saturday night as "John, my son." At once bridging the man who was raised with a different (and alas far less distinctive) name and the infant who she last saw in an incubator four-and-a-half decades ago. I realize this is the third post in a row featuring me in a photo-- what a year this has been professionally, linguistically, and personally. More thoughts will follow, but for now, this picture can replace my thousand words.


Miss Templeton said...

Oh my dear Fionnchu! Doesn't she have the look? YOUR look? My thoughts were with you this whole weekend -- and, mindful of my own "just some Horslips fan I met online" status, I did not push my way into this very personal and pivotal moment for yourselves.

But cheers! Cheers and best vibes and all that. (Though I would also like to know your thoughts and impressions of our fair city at some point...self-involved to the last!)

Anonymous said...

John, that picture is wonderful, worth more than a thousand words, priceless. You are GLOWING. If for that moment alone, I am so happy for you. Thank you for sharing this. Just, wow. Congratulations!
Love, Carrie