Monday, August 22, 2005

I woke up crying this morning--I couldn't get the finale of Six Feet Under out of my head. I don't want to say too much about the last show, because my sister hasn't had a chance to see it yet, and I don't want to ruin it for her, but, man, how perfect and heartbreaking and beautiful an ending was that?! It moved me so deeply. It made me feel so alive. It made me want to hug everyone in the world (and draw those I love even closer to my chest).

I tend to cry when things end. I cry when I finish reading a book that I loved (and I always kiss the cover of those books before I put them back on the shelf.) I cry at the end of plays, even if I didn't like them that much (I especially cry if there is a standing ovation.) I often cry at the end of movies. I hate saying goodbye to people. I love how fluid life is, love how life is constantly changing, but endings--even though they usher in new beginnings, new possibilites--hit me hard.

At my last reading of The Book of Dead Birds, I felt a little rush of sadness--I realized that since I have a new novel on the horizon, I probably won't be reading out loud from The Book of Dead Birds much anymore. The sadness surprised me--when I was touring around a lot with the book, I started to get tired of hearing myself read from it, hearing myself talk about it, but now that I read from it less often, I feel a real sense of loss. So many little endings in life. I guess they help prepare us for the final ending, the final letting go...

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