By Sue Silverman
Read or Download Because I Remember Terror, Father, I Remember You PDF
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Additional info for Because I Remember Terror, Father, I Remember You
After all, my father Heartbeats in Stone z5 holds me on his lap, my face against his undershirt, and strokes my hair. My parents buy me pretty dresses. My mother cooks us dinner and wears beautiful red lipstick. My father shows me his love, over and over, when he teaches me new things. I am addicted to these terrifying new things. Addicted to terror. For terror, feel love. With terror, my body feels loved. Terror is the definition of love, a synonym proving love's existence. So I stubbornly sit in this house in order to enable my parents to love me.
She is the one to stare into the lens of the camera held by my father as he leans closer and closer to her body. D D D An excerpt from my father's journal kept while he was Chief Counsel to the Interior Department. Entry dated August 5, 1947. Occasion, the signing, by President Truman, of the Philippine independence papers: 14 RED Called Congressman Crawford and arranged to meet him at White House at noon. Matt Connelly and Charley Ross showed us in precisely at 12:15. We circled the President seated ready to sign the bill.
We're told they rarely kiss—even parents and children rub cheeks or noses, but no kissing. I don't know what they would think of Suzie's tongue kissing. It's strictly non-Japanese. \—le^rtbe^t? , we lived in a two-family house on Southern Avenue. Now, when I am five, we move into a ranch house on Kingswood Road in the suburbs. How proud my parents are of their brand-new home, the first they've ever purchased. How beautiful are the hardwood floors with Oriental rugs from Israel. My father tells me what a lucky little girl I am, with my own private bedroom, the windows high, close to the ceiling, so no one can see inside.