Dad never gave up. One would think that after so many years, he would. But he must have thought there was hope of some kind. The particulars escape me, but I remember that he always played with Michael and he always wanted to visit him at Willowbrook. When he was placed in a group home, […]
I was killing my brother. We were both characters in an opera and I was supposed to be acting only I couldn’t be a total actor, and he wouldn’t die. I kept squeezing and squeezing him. I had to, but I couldn’t So I thought he was dead and I ran away, up the fire escape to the building which […]
I mentioned a few posts ago that I should reallyretrieve my journals. I am sure they are laden with details about the first dance I attended with my older brother. It was wintertime and I arrived at the lodge first. I didn’t know if Michael was looking forward to it or if he even knew […]
(This is a re-post from the ‘History’ section, where I discuss Depiction of the Mentally Ill) Respectful portrayal of the handicapped is a question near and dear to my heart, since my older brother is profoundly retarded and autistic. Michael has never spoken and it was never obvious to me if he know who I […]
